Epilogue
Sinclair
Three Months Later
I stare at the painting that was installed above the fireplace this afternoon.
Jameson arranged to have it brought here from the storage facility in Queens.
It’s one of the most breathtaking pieces of art I’ve ever seen.
When I turn to glance toward the wall next to the window, I smile when I spot the painting that Denia wanted my fiancé to inherit.
It’s an abstract piece that was one of the first that Brighton ever did.
When Jameson first saw it years ago, he didn’t understand the value or significance of it, but when we found it stored in the closet of Denia’s bedroom, we both realized what a true treasure it was.
“Beck and his wife will need to come for dinner to have a look at our mini-exhibition of his work,” Jameson says from behind me.
I spin around to see him on the approach.
The shirt he wore when we went to dinner at Berk and Astrid’s is now gone. I’m not complaining. I’ll never get enough of staring at him like this.
“You like what you see.” He winks. “Feel free to climb on up and enjoy it all.”
I smile. “Soon.”
“Soon, as in, I should lose my jeans now?” His hands drop to the waistband of his jeans.
“Not that soon.”
“Damn.” He cocks a brow. “You’re thinking about something. What is it?”
I glance back at the painting.
“Is it the book launch party?” Jameson steps closer to me. “When we toured Beck’s studio, everything was set. Tomorrow is a day of celebration for you. You’re going to bask in the limelight of being the co-author of one of the greatest coffee table books of our time.”
“You should work in public relations.”
He laughs. “I’m killing it as COO, so that’s a hard pass. I’m close to securing another deal. It’s the last on Denia’s list. I met with the head of that company last week when I was in Santa Fe clearing out my condo. He’s finally ready to sell.”
I cup his face in my hands. “She would be so proud of you.”
“I know.” He nods briskly. “I feel that. I’m doing good work, and I’m loving it, Sin.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
“I noticed you and Berk snuck away for a few minutes during dessert.” He stares into my eyes. “Was it about the wedding?”
We’re just a week away from that, but the conversation I had with my brother had nothing to do with his upcoming nuptials, so I shake my head.
I had debated approaching Berk about the project featuring Denia and Carrick, but he knew something was up when I turned down a lucrative contract to ghostwrite the memoir of a woman who lives in Italy.
It would have meant time away from Jameson, but I know we could have made that work. We’ve talked about that and decided that when I travel again for research and interviews, he’ll tag along when he can to scope out future locations for Carden.
Holden is completely on board with that too.
We’ve both been encouraging him to date again, but he’s not ready for that step yet. Right now, it’s all business, all the time for Jameson’s brother.
“Did you tell Berk about Sweet Love?” Jameson presses when I don’t say anything.
“I told him about it tonight,” I confess. “He’s been worried that I was going to bail on him to work with another publisher, so I told him about the book.”
Jameson’s brow furrows. “What did he say?”
I had been hesitant to approach Berk about the project until I had a solid proposal in hand. I’ve been working on that between interviewing more people who knew Jameson’s grandparents. It’s vitally important to me that I write a book that captures the essence of their love.
I lean forward to brush my lips against his. “He wants it. Sight unseen. I’ll write it. He’ll publish it. It’s a go, Jameson.”
“Sweetheart.” He gathers me into his arms to plant kisses on my forehead. “That’s some damn good news.”
“There is better news,” I whisper.
He leans back to glance at my face. “Better news than that?”
I nod, trying to hold back my tears. “A lot better.”
“You’re going to blow me right here?” he jokes. “I get to eat you out all night? I can fuck you in the shower? Lay it on me.”
My gaze drops to my flat stomach as my hand does.
Jameson’s eyes follow that path, but right away, he’s staring into my eyes again. “What is it?”
“I want to paint the guestroom I stayed in.”
He nods. “We talked about renovating. We can start there.”
We have talked about renovating the penthouse.
For the most part, we’ve distributed Denia’s belongings as we’ve seen fit.
We packed some away in storage, donated a few things, and decided that, eventually, we’ll clear out her bedroom.
We’re not in a rush for that, since we’re enjoying sharing the room that Jameson claimed on the day we moved in.
“We’ll need new furniture after we paint,” I whisper.
“The bed has to go.” He smirks. “Remember when we were fucking that night, and the headboard broke? It was damn funny, but shit, that scared the hell out of me.”
I swallow hard. “We’ll switch out the broken bed for a crib.”
His eyes widen. “For a what?”
“A crib.” I kiss him softly. “For our baby, who will arrive in seven months.”
He drops to his knees to wrap his arms around my waist. “Our baby is coming in seven months?”
I sigh when I feel his cheek rest against my stomach. “Yes.”
“I told you it would happen fast, Sin.” He gazes up at me with love in his tear-filled eyes. “When we stopped using condoms, I told you it would take no time at all.”
I stopped taking birth control around the same time because a family is what we both want.
“Our wedding?” He laughs. “Before or after?”
“After.” I run a hand through his hair. “We’ll have the best wedding ever after our baby arrives.”
“Deal.” He lifts the hem of my sweater to press his lips against my stomach. “I can’t wait for it all.”
“Me either.” I pull on his shoulders to get him back to his feet. “Our life is already better than I ever imagined it could be.”
He runs a hand over my cheek. “We’re just getting started. One day you’ll write a book about our love story.”
I steal a kiss. “I can’t wait for every chapter to unfold. I love you, Jameson.”
“I love you, sweetheart. I always will.”