Epilogue
THE MIDDLE
“ B est part of the week,” Pilar says, a twinkle plays in her amber eyes.
“Agreed.” I grin, settling against the SPN wall with her.
It’s Friday night, AKA Doc and Estelle’s weekly performance.
This will never not be my favorite part of the week.
It’s up there with Saturday brunch with Hope and my six-month-old niece, whom Lars calls LG for Little Georgia, and James calls Her Majesty, or weekly Sunday family dinners.
The new tradition has dinner rotating between my brothers’ places.
Next month, after I move into my new place, I’ll join the hosting rotation.
“I am thinking they’re going to do Much Ado About Nothing . What’s your guess?” Pilar muses, tipping her head towards where Estelle directs two staff members to place the chairs that she and Doc will use.
Doc is more than healed since his hip injury, but Estelle plans to keep “the old goat” safe.
For the last several months, the weekly readings have been done fireside-style, with the two of them sitting in chairs.
As much as Doc itches to flutter around the courtyard like before, he’s listening to Estelle.
At least for now. Davis gives it two more months before his grandfather buzzes around during his weekly performances.
“I don’t know. I’m thinking The Merchant of Venice .” I smile, thinking of how Estelle made me and Davis her famous lasagna last Saturday night.
Another favorite night of the week is any night with Davis.
One of those nights is always spent with his grandparents.
Estelle has become quite the gluten free chef over the last few months.
Between bites of whatever delicious meal she’s made, Estelle and Doc tease us about how they knew we’d be a perfect fit for each other.
“I’ll be right back,” Pilar says, patting my arm before shuffling over to chat with a patient’s family.
Inhaling the decadent jasmine aroma drifting around the courtyard, I take in the scene.
The quiet, babbling fountain and murmured conversations.
The way the wishing stone glows in the light from the lanterns and bright moonlight.
This place will always be magical to me.
Though, I’ve not heard of any other fantastical things happening here in the last eight months.
I’m not sure if what happened to me was a fluke.
Like Glinda says… the Fates have their own workings.
Whether this fountain grants all wishes or fate just stepped in for mine, I don’t know.
“Is this wall taken?”
I look up, and my belly turns in a low swoop.
Hands pushed into the pockets of his jeans, that boyish grin invades every inch of Davis’s face.
“It’s reserved for my boyfriend,” I say cheekily.
“Lucky man.”
“Guess so…” I offer a mock-pout. “But he’s in Denver for work.”
No Boundaries may keep Davis busy, but his family and I remain his priority. No matter the deadline, meeting, or trip, he always makes time for us. He always calls. He always keeps his promises. Even when we assure him it’s not a big deal.
“I hope you didn’t cut short anything important to rush back.” I wrap my arms around him.
“’Cause there’s something more important than being with the people I love.” He nuzzles his nose against mine.
The ooey-gooey sensation seeps into every bit of me.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being loved by Davis Makenzie.
In true blue Davis fashion, he didn’t hold back.
Within two months of dating, he proclaimed his love.
I cheered him on in a pickleball tournament he and Jackson competed in to raise money for a local dog rescue.
After they won, he’d run over, scooped me up, and said, “God, I love you.”
“I never doubt how important I am to you.” I press my smile against his.
“Good, because you are very important to me.” A sly expression invades his features. “And not just because you’re ensuring my childhood dream of a chocolate lab as a pet, when you and Wentworth move in at the end of the month.”
“Did you only ask me to move in for my dog?” I arch one eyebrow.
“He is a really good dog.” He chuckles.
I swat at him. “Guess he’ll be your little spoon, then.”
“Wentworth is very snuggly, but he’s not my little spoon.” He bands his arms tight around me.
“I love being your little spoon.” I sigh. “I love you, Davis Makenzie.”
“I love you, Georgia Lane.” He captures my lips in a toe-curling kiss.
Each time this man kisses me, I rejoice in how wrong I was. I do, indeed, love kissing Davis Makenzie. It’s better than writing The End on my latest manuscript or the grilled cheese from Fisher’s Landing.
“If my grandson would stop canoodling with his girlfriend, we could get the show started,” Estelle teases from across the courtyard.
“Sorry, Nan.” He clears his throat and then smirks.
Cheeks flushed from both my little public display of affection with Davis at my place of employment, and it being pointed out by his grandma, I settle back against the wall.
Davis leans beside me, our gazes forward to where his grandparents take their seats.
His hand folds around mine, causing every cell to hum with happiness.
“Tonight is a special performance,” Doc announces. “We’re taking a short break from Shakespeare. For the next month—in honor of our very own Peach’s birthday—we’re going to be reading Austen.”
“What?” Laughter falls out of me. ”My birthday isn’t until the end of the month.”
“It will take us that long to read this.” Doc chuckles and holds up a leather-bound book.
“It also gives me a month to spoil you.” Davis slides his arm around me, tucking me into him.
Snuggled into Davis, I lose myself in Doc and Estelle’s tandem reading from Pride and Prejudice . I bite back my tiny laugh at how Lizzie and Darcy’s meeting makes me think of me and Davis.
That’s where the comparison ends for me because this isn’t a book.
This is my life—one I hope that I get to live with all my people, especially the sweet man beside me.
I don’t know what the future has in store for any of us, and that’s okay.
Right now, the middle is far too good to rush to the next page.
The End.
Thank you for reading Book Boyfriends. If you’d like to explore more of my books, turn the page for a sneak peek at the first chapter of
Happy Ever Afterlife