Epilogue
Six months later
The houseboat smelled faintly of coffee, bacon, and impending disaster.
Daisy stood at the tiny galley stove, wearing Diego’s T-shirt and zero patience, trying to flip pancakes while the smoke alarm offered color commentary from above. “It’s fine,” she told the alarm, waving a dish towel like she could fan away her mistakes. “I meant to sear them. It’s artistic.”
From across the narrow space, Diego arched a brow. He was leaning against the counter in nothing but jeans and that infuriating grin that said he was seconds away from being unhelpful. “Babe, you’ve managed to invent burnt soup once. I shouldn’t be surprised by charred pancakes.”
“I’m feeding you. Mock me and you get kale.”
“Kale’s not food.” He crossed the space in two strides and plucked the spatula from her hand. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not starting a small fire.”
“Celebrating requires food. You told me to relax, and then you invited everyone.”
“Correction,” he said, flipping a pancake with maddening skill. “You invited everyone. I just forgot to stop you.”
Outside, laughter carried across the dock — Poppy’s bright and bossy voice, followed by Rocco’s deep rumble and Tyler’s dramatic, “If there isn’t coffee, I’m swimming home.”
Daisy groaned. “You didn’t fix the coffee maker, did you?”
Diego’s silence was answer enough.
Five minutes later, chaos reigned: Rocco brought pastries, Poppy brought champagne, Tyler found a life jacket and declared it his brunch outfit, and the coffee maker began making sounds that could only be described as mechanical distress.
“You were right,” Poppy said, pulling Daisy into a hug. “San Francisco suits us. Evans & Poppy Events West has already got two new clients, and one of them actually pays on time.”
“Miracle of miracles,” Daisy said, smiling. She glanced at Diego, who was pretending not to listen but clearly was.
Poppy nudged her. “You look happy. Is that terrifying?”
“Completely.”
Diego came over then, sliding an arm around Daisy’s waist, the simple weight of it grounding her in that same impossible way he always had.
His hand brushed her hip, warm and steady, and her pulse jumped—ridiculous, after all this time, but apparently her heart hadn’t gotten the memo that they were old news.
“You know,” Daisy said softly, “six months ago, we couldn’t even make it through breakfast without a fight.”
He grinned. “We still can’t make it through breakfast without smoke.”
Her laugh was quiet, but it lingered, wrapping around them like sunlight on fog.
“You’re really smug when you’re right, you know that?” she said.
He smiled. “Yeah. It’s one of my best qualities.”
Before she could roll her eyes, he bent, snagged something from the counter — a small velvet box that had absolutely not been there a second ago — and dropped to one knee.
Rocco choked on his mimosa. Poppy squealed. Tyler actually clapped.
Diego, still half-grinning, said, “Don’t panic. I’m not asking you to plan a wedding. I just thought I’d make this official before you burn down the boat.”
Daisy laughed, tears pricking her eyes. “You’re doing this now? In front of them?”
“Couldn’t risk you saying no if it was just us.”
“Diego—”
He opened the box. Inside was a ring — simple, stunning, absolutely her. “You don’t need to plan this one, Daisy. Just say yes.”
Her heart went molten. “Yes.”
The next kiss knocked over a glass of champagne, set off the smoke alarm again, and got them a round of applause from their audience.
“We’re keeping the fire department on retainer,” Diego murmured against her mouth.
“Good,” she whispered back, breathless. “They’ll be witnesses next time.”
Outside, the fog lifted off the bay, sunlight breaking through — as if the city itself had finally decided to give them a break.
Turns out, fate hadn’t twisted them at all.
It had tied them together — nice and tight.