Epilogue 1
Justice
Songs:
Photograph by Ed Sheeran
Lucky by Dermot Kennedy
This is my favorite part
“Just so we’re clear,” Faye said, nodding toward the dance floor. “I was wrong.”
I grinned, watching Hope with what I assumed had to be an unhealthy level of pride and possession.
“You’re forgiven,” I told her. “But only because I know you helped with her red dress moment.”
She snorted. “Dude. You have no idea how much that cost me.”
I raised my glass to her. “Then this is for your sacrifice,” I tipped the soda bottle toward Hope. “It all worked out.”
“Better than even I could imagine.”
We watched our respective partners take the dance floor by storm, swinging and jiving in a way I could never even contemplate imitating.
“You ever look at Hope and wonder how you ended up together?” Faye asked, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“I don’t have to wonder. Hope was always meant to be mine.” I glanced down at her. “Do you?”
Faye tilted her head back, her gaze finding mine. “I have no idea how Sam and I came to be. We’re so different and yet… we work.”
I chuckled. “Oh, he orchestrated the fuck out of your fake wedding. Let’s be honest. The boy had it bad for you years before you ever glanced at him.”
“Same for you,” she pointed out.
“True. Guess we’re the idiots.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
We clinked glasses.
The song finished and Sam and Hope separated, both laughing and flushed. Hope caught my eye, waving at me to come over.
With a beleaguered sigh, I pushed off the bar. “My wife calls.”
“You’re enjoying saying that far too much,” Faye accused, straightening the cream-colored strap on her bridesmaid’s dress.
“Oh, yeah.”
By the time I’d made it onto the dance floor, the band had switched to a new song—a cover of Lucky by Dermot Kennedy.
Catching Hope around the waist, I pulled her into me, holding her tight.
“Come here, sweetheart,” I murmured, beginning to sway with her. “I wanna hold you a minute.”
She sighed, leaning into me. “Are you happy?”
“My cheeks hurt from grinning.”
She giggled. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.” I cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb across her lips. “You are loved, Hope. This love inside me? It’s scary how fucking much I love you.”
She lifted on her toes to catch my lips in a sweet kiss that quickly turned hungry.
“Take me home,” she whispered against my mouth. “I want you to make love to me in my wedding dress.”
“As you wish.”
Rearing back, I tossed my girl over my shoulder and carried her from the reception to the shouts and cheers of all the guests while she—my naughty wife—cupped my ass.
I tossed her into my truck, grinning at her squeal.
“You ready?” I asked, sliding in beside her.
“For what?”
I started the truck. “You’re the romance author. You tell me what happens next.”
She caught my head in her hands, kissing me. “Oh, this is my favorite part.”
“And that is?”
“Our happily ever after.”
“Is that right?” I asked. “Then I guess we better get started.”
Hope laughed, placing a hand on my knee. “But haven’t we already?”
Catching her laughter with my mouth, I had to admit she was right.
We were living our happily ever after.