Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
HAPPY ENDINGS
I t was right in front of me all along! The potential solution is as crystal clear as the building in front of me.
Parking my car at SPN, I grab my purse and hop out.
Hope is back at the house. My bestie may ride shotgun for my big life events, but after a Braxton Hicks contraction as we walked to my car, we opted to drop her at home.
Before dropping Hope off, we called Jackson to bring the guys to SPN. Then I reached out to Kerry, who I knew was working today, for a favor. Reaching the main courtyard entrance, a sign that reads Closed for Maintenance is posted on the door, and my mouth lifts into a thankful smile.
“There are signs on all the entrances like you asked. Is everything okay?” Kerry asks as I enter the courtyard.
My steps halt. “Ahh… Yeah, I just need the courtyard for something author -related.” My tone comes off shiftier than I mean it to.
“O—kay.” The dip of her brow telegraphs her disbelief. No doubt Kerry thinks I’m up to something nefarious.
“This is such a lovely spot to shoot some promo videos for my socials, and you know how Velma is about that stuff. You know… beg for forgiveness rather than ask for permission.” My exaggerated wink is conspiratorial, knowing Kerry is likely thinking about her repurposing the tossed coins into weekly donations to the Make-A-Wish Foundation without the SPN’s administrator’s permission.
The pebble of guilt lodges in my stomach at my manipulation, but I’ll deal with it. There isn’t enough time to explain this whole thing to Kerry. Though something tells me that she’d believe me. Besides her love of historical romance, she adores anything with magical elements.
“Totally! Want me to help take the video, so?—”
“No need. My cameramen are here,” I interrupt with a wave to my book boyfriends strolling through the main entrance.
“ Girl, do you ever have cameramen?” Kerry breathes, her gaze sweeping over the three men striding toward us.
Individually, each is impressive. All three are over six feet, with muscular frames. Owen is the sexy boy next door. James is regal handsomeness. Lars is rugged sexiness. Together, the three ooze enough sexual pheromones to impregnate a woman just by looking at them.
“Georgia.” James offers a quick bow and then turns to Kerry, his mouth opens, and nothing comes out. He just stares, his green eyes appearing to be entranced.
“Hi, I’m Kerry,” she says, holding out her hand.
After a far too long beat, he blinks, takes her hand, and murmurs, “James.”
“Is she the witch?” Lars juts his chin at Kerry, whose left eyebrow quirks.
“No, she’s not the witch…for the promo .” Even my breathy laugh is suss.
“Promo?” Owen’s head tilts.
I flash him a shut it look.
“She’s no witch, but she does cast a spell,” James drawls, his large hand still enveloping hers.
“Oh.” A dreamy expression shines in Kerry’s features.
Owen shakes his head. Lars snickers.
“Kerry, I think we’ve got this. Would you mind giving us some privacy?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says, her hand still in James’s, pink staining her cheeks.
No good will come from this!
“Sorry, we’re on a tight timeframe. It would be a huge help if you could keep guard… In case Velma comes in. You know how she loves those random drop-ins on the weekends.” In a very un-Georgia-like move, I take hold of Kerry’s shoulders and guide her towards the door.
“Goodbye, Kerry,” James murmurs, bowing as I push Kerry out the door. “What a delightful creature. Who is this Kerry?”
Shutting the door, I spin, wagging a finger. “Not for you.”
He raises his hands. “I wasn’t… I know. Sorry.”
“Ugh! Enough with the apologies.” I toss my hand up as I stride toward them. “Just do better.”
Owen places a hand on James’s shoulder. “Now might be the time for you to just be single.”
“You may be correct, my friend,” he sighs.
“Where’s Jackson?” I scan the space.
“Outside. He didn’t… He thought it would be best,” Lars says, clearing his throat. That playful sparkle in his eyes is dull, and his mouth curves downward.
This must be hard for both Jackson and Lars because if this works, then it’s goodbye for them. Jackson had them all on speaker phone as I said, “I think I figured out how to get you all back.” So, there’s no secret to what this all may mean for each of them.
“As we have been summoned, I imagine the witchcraft consultant provided a solution to this situation.” James waves his hand between all of us.
“No. She said my wish is complete, and there isn’t a way to solve it. At least, not one she knew about or had the power to fix,” I say, my tone soft.
“So, we’re here forever?” Lars asks, his expression unreadable.
“But you said that you had a way.” James’s forehead crinkles.
“I do. At least, I think I do. But I want to give you all the choice.” I pull out the three pennies from my pocket.
This all began with a wish. It seems fitting for it to end with one. Only not mine, theirs.
The idea came to me after exchanging well-wishes with Will.
In so many ways, this whole thing started with the end of that relationship.
A relationship where all my wishes and hopes for the future appeared to be ripped away.
Only—as Rem said—it never was my future.
It was me forcing myself into what I thought was supposed to happen.
Who I thought I was supposed to be with.
So many of my failed dates since Will weren’t just their fault, but mine. It wasn’t the fear of getting hurt by someone else that held me back, but of making the wrong choice again. Some of them were exactly who I pictured, but I didn’t trust that.
I didn’t trust me.
Thanks to this wish gone right or wrong, however you look at it, I trust myself now. Right now, I trust that this may be the answer we’ve been looking for.
“I don’t know how wishes work or if this will.
What I do know is that I want to give you the choice.
Something you didn’t have from the start.
Even if I didn’t mean for you to be brought here, you had no choice in that.
I want to give it back to you.” I hand each man a penny.
“For you to wish for your happiness. Whatever that is. It’s your choice. ”
“You want us to wish?” Owen says, his speech hesitant.
“What if it goes sideways like yours did?” Lars asks.
“But my wish didn’t actually go sideways,” I say.
This entire situation isn’t what I wished for.
None of this went as planned. Even if I didn’t plan for it.
It didn’t come with a guaranteed happy ending, like one of my books.
It just is. My eyes are now open, and my heart is ready to live life knowing that things may not turn out okay. It’s both terrifying and freeing.
“Wishes don’t work the way we think they should… But they do work. We just have to be open to it. Each of you has helped me know what I want and at great sacrifice to yourselves. Selena. Ivy and your pack. Lady Cecily.” I meet each man’s stare.
“You want us to leave. To wish to go back.” A tight smile anchors Lars’s hard expression.
“I want you to do whatever you want to do. To wish for what you want. To do what I’d failed to do, write your own endings… your own stories,” I murmur.
Whether their stories are only figments of my imagination or communicated to me telepathically in some strange inter-realm game of telephone, these are their stories, not mine.
This morning, as I listened to Elsie and Patrick’s story, the words came alive with each tap of my fingers on the keyboard, and that truth nested deep within me.
“Whatever we want,” Owen murmurs, holding the coin up.
“Yes.” Stepping back, I gesture to the fountain. “Make your wishes.”
“And what if we don’t want to wish?” Lars asks.
“That’s your choice. Whatever you choose, I’m here for you as you’ve been here for me.”
In a different way each, of these men have guided me to reclaim my own story. Even before they magically appeared, they’d been part of the piecing back together my heart. It’s now their turn to reclaim their stories.
“Thank you, rabbit.” Lars reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.
Coin in hand, each man stands at the edge of the fountain. The stone gleams in the not-quite-evening sunshine.
“I wish whatever is supposed to happen, happens.” Owen tosses his coin into the water.
“I wish for those I left behind’s happiness, as well as my own.” Lars follows suit.
Face wrinkled, James studies the coin before lifting it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss. “I wish for Lady Cecily to get her true happy ending,” he murmurs and then tosses it in.
The three just stand, their gazes fixed on the ripples in the fountain’s pool. I don’t know what I thought would happen. Just as the night I made my wish, it’s quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary. No poof of magic or sprinkle of fairy dust.
“What happens now?” Owen turns.
“I don’t know, but we can find out together.” I step closer to them.
“You’re not done with us after all, rabbit,” Lars snarks.
“No. I think we’re stuck with each other.”
Owen takes a step and then stops. Laughter brightens his features. “We may not all be stuck,” he says.
“What?”
He tips his head up to the sky and then back to me. “Come back to me, Owen,” he says.
“Is Selena calling you home?”
“Yeah. She is or, at least, someone is.”
I fling my arms around him. “I’m so happy for you.” Stepping back, I beam. “Now, go write your story. Whatever ending you want.”
“Thank you, Georgia.” He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to the center of my forehead. “Goodbye, fellas.” Grinning, he steps back. His form becomes transparent until he disappears.
A blend of sad happiness mixes within me. Owen deserves to go back and rewrite his ending. I just know I’ll miss him. So will Hope, who may need to look for a new backup chef.
My eyes flick to Lars and James. Each remains fixed to their spots, their stares locked to where their friend used to be.
“Do you hear anything?” My question is cautious.
“No,” they both say.
Lars sniffs, and then his head jerks towards the door. A giant grin erupts on his face the moment Jackson emerges into the courtyard.
“You’re still here. I’m not too late,” he says through panted breaths, rushing towards Lars. “I know I said I didn’t want to get in your way, but?—”
His muscular arms pull Jackson into a tight embrace, and Lars silences him with a kiss. Their mouths cling in deepening kisses between Jackson muttering “I’m selfish but I don’t want you to go,” and Lars’s “Shut up, pretty boy, I’m right where I want to be.”
Hand on my heart, I melt into the gooey sensation enveloping me. Lars’s heart’s desire is my brother, but he couldn’t embrace that completely without knowing the people he left behind would be okay. Jackson’s appearance is, no doubt, Lars’s own mystical voice calling him home.
“At least this means I will no longer have to share the guest room. Lars snores, so your brother may never sleep again.” James makes a huffed laugh.
“I don’t think they plan to do a lot of sleeping,” I quip, my mouth lifting at Lars hoisting Jackson into his arms, his long legs wrapping around the werewolf’s middle.
“We’re right here, gentlemen, though that term may not fit,” James tuts.
“Hush, Lord Jealous.” Lars sets Jackson down.
“Not your best retort, old chap.”
My stomach sinks. “So, no messages or voices for you?”
“No, but there wouldn’t be, would there? My wish wasn’t about me.”
With a frown, I turn to him. “You could have wished for anything you wanted.”
“But I did wish for what I want. Cecily’s happiness is what I desire. Even if it’s not with me. She deserves the world and a man who is worthy to give her it… And I’m not him. My entire life has been about my wants, my desires. I don’t want to be that man anymore.”
“You may not be who I thought you were.”
“But I am.” He frowns. “Please, don’t let me forget that or get comfortable in that idea that I am not. Comfort and delusion shall only blind me to the path ahead. The one to become the man you think I may be, but that I know I am not. At least, not yet.”
“If Cecily’s happiness is what you want, how do we know she has it?” I ask.
“Georgia!” Arms flailing, Kerry trots into the courtyard, several pieces of paper in her right hand. “Sorry to interrupt, but Velma sighting. I was able to snag the signs before she saw them and came to investigate.”
“Thanks, Kerry, but we’re done here.” I smile.
She stops short in front of me and James, her brown eyes bright. She flashes a flirty smile at James. He clears his throat, nods, and then averts his gaze. It’s for the best. Even if I don’t appreciate the disappointment puckering Kerry’s lips into a pout, she’s not for him.
More importantly, James isn’t for anyone. At least, right now. Like he says, he’s a work in progress. Kerry deserves a man with his shit together. Despite the tailored suit, James is very much not together.
“Which book is this for anyway?” Kerry asks, her pout twists into a curious expression.
“All of them.”
“Ooh, I can’t wait to see it,” she coos.
“When it’s all done,” I say, that knot in my stomach tightening with this lie and the forthcoming one when I pretend the video footage got erased. I make a mental note to bring Kerry a latte from her favorite coffeeshop every day next week in amends for lying to her.
“Oh fun!” She claps. “I love your books so much. They always have the best twists. Like I never saw Simon Davenport as Lady Cecily’s endgame, but that man.” She makes a pretend swooning movement.
“Simon Davenport makes you swoon?” James says aghast.
“Oh yeah.” She wiggles her hips. “The unexpected dirty mouth of a quiet, well-mannered ornithologist.”
“Simon Davenport? The Marquis of Hampton?” I blink.
“Yes! So sexy! He’s one of my favorite book boyfriends you’ve written.”
“Figures,” James mutters.
She goes on, ignoring him. “I don’t normally like love triangles, but the way you did it was so clever. First, I was shipping that cad Lord James, but then, like Cecily, I fell hard for Simon. It was such a great analogy for avoiding red flaggy men.”
“Cad? I’m… He’s not that red flaggy,” James grumbles to himself.
I bump James’s arm with my shoulder. “I’m happy you liked that Lady Cecily found her happiness at the end of the book.”
His softened expression telegraphs the realization settling in him. His wish came true. Lady Cecily is with the marquis. She’s happy, and even if James’s mouth ticks down, I know it’s what he wants. Sometimes a little grief and sadness are wrapped up in our heart’s desires coming true.
“Yeah. It’s one of my favorite HEAs. Even better than Owen and Selena or Victor and Ivy.”
“Victor and Ivy? My second?” Lars gapes.
Tucked into Lars’s side, Jackson’s mouth quirks. “Not that I’m complaining, but what about Lars?”
“Who’s Lars?” Confusion contorts her pretty features.