Epilogue Two #2
The entire front row bursts into laughter as both twins fling their arms up like they know exactly what’s happening.
Sophie’s eyes are bright, her smile big. Tessa steadies Lila on her hip, giving me a little nod that says she’s got them covered.
Charlotte squeezes my hand once. Tight. Full of everything we just promised each other.
I squeeze back.
We take our first step as husband and wife, and the room rises.
The aisle feels long and short all at once. David’s wiping his eyes, Erin’s smiling, Maya is bouncing, and my teammates are a row of crooked ties and smirks. Charlotte laces her fingers with mine.
We step through the archway of pine boughs as the coordinator guides everyone toward the reception.
Guests drift into the next room, snow falling outside the tall windows. It’s quiet for a beat—just her hand in mine, the weight of everything we just promised settling warm and steady in my chest.
When we walk into the reception, the room erupts—cheers, applause, a couple whistles I know are Torres and Tyler. Charlotte laughs, the sound hitting me like the first deep breath after a big win.
Sophie and Tessa are right behind us with the twins.
Finn frowns like the bowtie is an act of betrayal.
Lila kicks one shoe loose and looks proud of herself.
Charlotte adjusts my jacket.
“You ready?” she whispers.
“For the rest of my life? Absolutely.”
She rolls her eyes, smiling. “I meant for the reception.”
“That too.”
The DJ shifts the music, and the coordinator guides us to the center of the room. The opening notes of our song float through the air—warm, low, unmistakably ours.
Charlotte steps into my arms, soft and familiar.
She rests her cheek near my collarbone, and I swear my heart stops and restarts all at once.
“You’re staring,” she whispers.
“Can’t help it.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Married,” I correct.
She laughs under her breath, melting a little closer.
“This is perfect,” she whispers.
“Because you’re in my arms.”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling the whole time.
We sway through the last notes, and when the song ends, the room applauds.
The music fades and David steps forward first, glass in hand.
David—stone-faced, dry-humored, always pretending he’s not soft—has suspiciously shiny eyes.
“To my sister,” he starts, nodding toward Charlotte. “I watched you grow into the most capable, stubborn, whip-smart person I know. And to Declan—who somehow survived being my friend long enough to become my brother. Take care of her. Not because she needs it, but because she deserves it.”
He lifts his glass.
“Alright. Enough. To them.”
The room laughs.
Then Charlie’s best friend Kristy takes the mic.
“Charlotte’s the kind of woman who shows up for everyone—quietly, consistently, without asking for credit.”
She lifts her glass. “So watching her finally let herself be taken care of too? It’s… about time.”
Kristy glances at me. “Declan, you make her laugh. You make her feel safe. And you look at her like you still can’t believe you pulled this off.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the room.
“Good,” Kristy says, smiling. “Stay grateful.”
Charlotte laughs, shaking her head, eyes bright.
When Tyler and Torres head up, I hold back a groan.
Tyler says, “We’d like to thank Charlotte for making the captain less grumpy.”
Torres adds, “And for giving us two future first-round draft picks.”
I call out, “They’re one year old.”
Tyler shrugs. “Gotta start scouting early.”
Before they leave the mic, Torres shouts: “To the Tremaynes!”
The entire team stands and lifts their glasses.
After the toasts, the music picks up again—soft, classic, timeless.
Charlotte scoops Lila into her arms and sways around the dance floor. Lila rests her head on her shoulder and promptly falls asleep.
Finn reaches for Sophie, so I hand him over.
She beams—huge, proud, careful—and rocks him gently as we move toward the edge of the floor.
When she looks up at me, it’s with that same quiet joy she had when she first met the twins in the hospital.
“Want to dance with me?” she asks.
My chest pulls tight. “Always.”
We move slow. Her forehead presses into my chest when she leans in. She’s growing too fast. But for tonight, she settles against me like she used to when she was little.
“I’m happy,” she whispers.
I kiss the top of her head. “Me too.”
Later in the night—after the toasts, the laughter, the dancing, the flood of congratulations—I finally catch Charlotte’s hand and tug her toward the side door of the lodge.
She looks back at the room—at Sophie rocking Finn near the fireplace, at Tessa bouncing a sleepy Lila, at David and Erin slow-dancing, at Torres teaching Maya a ridiculous two-step—and then she lets me pull her outside.
The cold hits instantly.
But it’s the good kind—crisp, clean, waking up every nerve after hours of noise and heat.
Snow drifts through the pines, soft and slow.
String lights glow across the patio in warm gold arcs, and the world beyond them is nothing but quiet winter dark.
Charlotte exhales, shoulders dropping.
“It’s beautiful out here.”
I step behind her, hands sliding around her waist, pulling her back against me.
“It is now.”
She laughs softly. “That was cheesy.”
“Married men are allowed to be cheesy.”
She rises onto her toes and kisses me—slow, warm, lingering. When she pulls back, her forehead rests against mine.
“We did it, Declan. All of it. We made it here.”
She leans in again, kissing me slow, deep, unhurried. It’s the kind of kiss that feels like a promise.
When she finally pulls back, she cups my face in both hands, smiling like she can’t hold it in.
“Captain?” she teases.
“Yeah?”
Her voice is soft and certain.
“Take me home.”
I kiss her one more time, the snow settling lightly on our shoulders.
I lace our fingers together, her smile hitting me square in the chest.
A captain normally leads.
But when it comes to Charlotte?
I’ll follow her anywhere.
Thank you for reading Twins For My Pucking Grump!