Epilogue
Six months later
Declan
The scent of sawdust and fresh-cut pine fills my lungs as I step out of my office, surveying the mill floor below. Production's running smooth today—no spills, no delays, no drama. Just the steady rhythm of machinery and the satisfying bite of blades through timber.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Austin: Ladybug ate my favorite heels. The Louboutins.
I can't help but grin.
Me: The red ones?
Austin: YES. The RED ones. Your dog has expensive taste.
Me: Our dog. And you left them on the floor.
Austin: I was getting ready for work!
Me: Should've put them in the closet like I told you.
Austin: I'm reconsidering this whole living together thing.
Me: No you're not.
Austin: …no I'm not. But you're buying me new ones.
Me: Deal. See you tonight, beautiful.
Moving in together three months ago was the easiest decision I’ve ever made. Bree kept her place as a real estate investment, renting it out through an agency. Her clothes are in my closet, her shampoo is in my shower, and her laugh echoes through rooms that used to be too quiet.
Ladybug’s grown into a fifteen-pound bundle of chaos whose favorite pastime is being a lapdog. She’s also convinced that anything left on the floor is a toy, which Bree still hasn’t quite accepted.
“Dec.” Gunnar appears at my elbow, tablet in hand. “Got the numbers from last quarter.”
I scan the report, satisfaction settling in my chest. We’re up fifteen percent.
Ford’s sales strategies are paying off, even if his social media account—now at 1.
2 million followers—still makes my eye twitch occasionally.
At least he’s been careful. No identifying landmarks, no faces, nothing that ties back to Wilder Industries.
“Good work.” I clap my brother’s shoulder. “Tell Ford I said so, too.”
Gunnar’s mouth quirks. “He’ll be insufferable about it.”
“Let him. He earned it.”
My brother heads back to his station, and I check my watch. Three more hours until I can head home to Bree. Three hours until I can pull her into my arms and kiss her the way I’ve been wanting to all day.
My phone buzzes again.
Uncle Luke: Family dinner Sunday. Your brothers are bringing dates. You bringing Bree?
Me: When don’t I bring Bree?
Uncle Luke: Good point. Tell her I’m claiming Ladybug for the afternoon.
Me: She’ll negotiate visitation terms.
Uncle Luke: That woman drives a hard bargain. I like her.
Me: Me too.
More than like. I’m head over heels, completely gone for Bree Winthrop. The woman who counts her steps, who graduated from Vanderbilt, who doesn’t actually have an Emily Dickinson tattoo but should. The woman who panicked and claimed a fake boyfriend, then stole my dog, then stole my heart.
The woman I’m going to marry.
The ring’s been burning a hole in my truck’s glove compartment for two weeks now. I picked it up from the jeweler in Austin. It’s a vintage Art déco piece with a center stone that reminds me of her eyes, warm and golden-brown. Not too flashy, but quality. Like Bree herself.
I just need to figure out the right moment.
My phone rings. Nash.
“What’s up?”
“Poker night still on at your place?” My buddy sounds distracted, probably in the studio.
“Yeah. Seven o’clock. Rebecca okay with you leaving?”
“She’s the one who suggested it. Says I’ve been hovering.” He chuckles. “Apparently, I need to give her some space before the baby comes.”
“Smart woman.”
“The smartest. Hey, Bree mentioned Izzy’s annulment went through?”
“Last week.” I lean against the railing overlooking the production floor. “She’s doing better. Took a job at Sun Ridge, actually.”
“Yeah, Alex mentioned that. Said Izzy’s got a good eye for talent.” He pauses. “Is Gunnar seeing anyone?”
I think about the way my brother looked at Izzy that day at Hank & Lulu’s. The way he still looks at her whenever she’s around. “Not that I know of. Why?”
“Just curious. See you Sunday.”
He hangs up before I can press further.
Interesting.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of meetings and production checks. By the time I’m climbing into my truck, the sun’s starting its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
I pull into the driveway to find Bree’s Lexus already there, Ladybug’s face pressed against the front window. The dog’s tail is a blur of motion as I walk up the path.
Inside, music drifts from the kitchen—something poppy and fun that Bree probably has queued up on her phone. I find her at the stove, barefoot in yoga pants and one of my old flannels, her dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
She’s never looked more beautiful.
Ladybug launches herself at my legs, and I scoop her up, accepting enthusiastic puppy kisses before setting her down. Then I cross to Bree, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind.
“Hi,” I murmur against her neck.
“Hi yourself.” She leans back into me. “How was work?”
“Better now.” I press a kiss to that spot just below her ear that makes her shiver. “What are you making?”
“Attempting your uncle’s chili recipe. He wrote it down for me last week.”
I glance into the pot. It looks... questionable. But I’m not about to say that. “Smells great.”
She turns in my arms, an eyebrow raised. “Liar. It smells like I’m burning tomatoes.”
“Okay, it smells like you’re burning tomatoes. But I appreciate the effort.”
“We’re ordering pizza, aren’t we?”
“Probably.” I kiss her forehead. “But I love that you tried.” Turns out, neither one of us can cook much besides jam.
She swats my chest playfully, then turns off the stove. “How do you feel about Valentino’s?”
“Sounds perfect.”
While she calls in our order, I grab a beer from the fridge and our my girl a glass of wine before heading to the back porch. Ladybug follows, immediately investigating a suspicious spot near the fence line.
Bree joins me on the porch swing, tucking herself against my side like she was made to fit there.
“Izzy started at Sun Ridge today,” she says. “Alex said she’s already reorganizing their filing system.”
“That sounds like Izzy.”
“She seems happy. Happier than I’ve seen her in years.” Bree tilts her face up to mine. “I think leaving Preston was the best decision she ever made.”
“Sometimes the hardest decisions are the right ones.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing absent patterns on my arm. “My dad called today.”
I tense slightly. Thayer Winthrop and I have a cordial relationship. We’ve talked business a few times, bonded over timber industry gossip. But I know he had expectations for Bree’s future that didn’t include a small-town lumber mill owner.
“What did he want?”
“To invite us to their summer house in the Hamptons. Fourth of July weekend.” She hesitates. “The whole family will be there. Including Preston’s parents.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Honestly? I think it’ll be good for Izzy. Facing them. Showing them she’s moved on.” She looks up at me, those honey-brown eyes serious. “But I need to know you’ll be okay. My family can be... a lot.”
I think about the Winthrop empire, the multi-generational wealth, the social circles I’ll never quite fit into. Then I think about Bree, who chose a small Texas town and a man who smells like sawdust over all of that.
“I’ll be fine, beautiful. As long as you’re there.”
“I’ll always be there.” She kisses my jaw. “You’re stuck with me now, Wilder. And my parents know how much we love each other.”
“Good.” I pull her closer. “That’s exactly where I want you.”
Ladybug barks at something in the yard, probably a squirrel, and Bree laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out.
This. This is what I want. Every day for the rest of my life.
The ring in my truck suddenly feels like it’s burning even brighter.
Soon, I promise myself. Soon I’ll ask her to make this permanent. To take my name and build a life with me and fill this house with more than just puppy toys and her designer shoes.
But for now, I’m content to sit here with her on this porch swing, watching the sun set over our small piece of paradise, knowing that every choice that led me here. Every wrong turn, every heartbreak, and every lonely night was worth it.
Because it led me to her.
My Austin.
My Bree.
My home.
***
Want to find out Declan's surprise for Bree? What do her parents think of Declan? Find out by clicking this link for the BONUS EPILOGUE: Aubrey Kent's Newsletter Sign-Up.
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xoxo,
Aubrey
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Want to read Gunnar and Izzy's story? Coming soon! Pre-Order now!
Want to read Declan's buddy Zane's book? Try Influencing the Rancher, or keep reading for a quick Chapter 1 sneak peak!
Chapter 1
Capri
“What the blazes do you think you’re doing?”
A truck door slams somewhere behind the ranch’s barbed-wire fence, but I ignore the rugged voice.
It’s the golden hour in the influencer world, the time of day right before sunset when the sun’s rays cast a warm, natural glow that’s ideal for photos.
Ten minutes remain of this perfect Hill Country light before my shot is ruined, and I’m not about to waste them explaining myself to a man who has no say in how I run my business.
“Hey. Princess.” The cowboy raises one hand and snaps twice. “I’m talking to you.”
Did he really just snap his fingers at me? Even my four-year-old knows better.
I whip around to give the jerk a piece of my mind but am momentarily stunned into silence.
The hottest man in the south stands at the ranch’s fencing, a tight white t-shirt showing off his tanned, sculpted muscles.
Ink swirls down both of the stranger’s arms, the intricate designs eclectic and intriguing.
You’ve seen a male before, Capri. Stop staring like he’s a dessert bar.