First Epilogue
1 month later
Evie
“A toast,” Brooklyn raised her flute, “to Jazz finally locking Homer’s ass down.”
“Here, here,” Brielle added. She knocked back her champagne. “Barkeep, hit me.”
Willa snorted. “Pace yourself. We’re supposed to be helping the bride get ready. Not getting smashed.”
“Barkeep, hit me, ” Brielle repeated.
“Oh, I’ll hit you all right,” Jazz joked.
We were currently in Brielle’s parents’ home in a guest room with a bathroom. It was the staging area for the bridal party to get ready.
Brooklyn and Willa had left their babies with their fathers so they could be free to enjoy this time before the wedding.
“You’re okay that I didn’t ask you to be a bridesmaid, right?” Jazz looked at me, concern in her eyes.
“You didn’t ask Willa either,” I said with a laugh. “Homer’s only got two brothers, so you only needed two bridesmaids. But thank you for including me in this.”
Jazz hugged me tight.
“You talk to your mom?” Brooklyn asked Jazz.
Jazz nodded. “I video chatted with her this morning. I promised to send the nurse a picture of me in my wedding dress.”
Her gaze was wistful, and she hastily brushed her fingers under her eyes to prevent the tears from smearing her makeup. “I wish she were here.”
Jazz’s mother had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s and was in a care facility. Her spurts of clarity came and went; and stress brought them on. As much as Jazz wanted her mother at her wedding, her mother insisted that Jazz focus on her perfect day, instead of having to worry that she would have an episode and ruin everything.
“We’ll take lots of pictures and videos,” Brooklyn said, squeezing Jazz’s hand.
Brielle tried to hand Jazz a champagne flute. “Absolutely.”
“I’m good,” Jazz said, not taking the drink.
“Come on, you’re marrying Homer. For life. You need a little bit of liquid courage.”
“No, I’m really okay,” Jazz insisted, her cheeks flaming with heat.
“Oh my God,” Brooklyn said with a smile. “You’re totally pregnant!”
“Pregnant?” Brielle squeaked.
Jazz didn’t say anything.
“Well, are you?” Willa demanded.
“Kind of, yeah,” Jazz muttered.
“On purpose?” Brielle asked.
Jazz glared at her.
“I meant, was this planned? Did you guys get busy as soon as you were engaged?”
“I, ah, don’t really want to talk about it,” Jazz said, blushing furiously.
Brooklyn covered her mouth but couldn’t stop the laughter.
“You have to talk about it,” Willa demanded.
“I’ll tell you when Brielle isn’t around,” Jazz stated. “Because she doesn’t need to know certain things about her sibling.”
“You’re right about that,” Brielle agreed. “Does Homer know you’re pregnant?”
Jazz nodded. “I told him last night.”
“Are you telling other people?” Willa asked.
“Well, I won’t be drinking today, so I think it’s going to come out eventually.” Jazz shrugged and then she looked at Brielle. “You’re okay with this, right?”
She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with this? But also, kinda late to be asking that question, isn’t it?”
“I just mean, a lot has changed for us in the last couple of months. And now this . . .”
“This? You mean my niece or nephew? My godchild?” Brielle flashed a grin. “I’m so happy for you, Jazz. I really mean it.”
“I think I went overboard with the champagne,” Brooklyn said, gesturing to the two unopened bottles. “Only Brielle can really throw it back.”
“Don’t worry, I’m up to the challenge,” she quipped.
There was a knock on the door and then Cozy and Riley joined the bridal party.
“Ah, just in time,” Brielle said. “I need help drinking the champagne.”
“Just one for me,” Riley said. “I can’t hold my liquor.”
“It’s hardly liquor,” Cozy quipped.
“Fine, champagne makes me horny. And I don’t think Brielle wants to hear that I’m going to be jumping her brother’s bones later.” Riley took the flute from Brooklyn.
“Yes, please don’t tell me that.” Brielle wrinkled her nose.
“Are you going to tell them?” Willa asked Jazz.
“Tell us what?” Cozy asked.
Brooklyn opened another bottle of champagne.
“Guess I better tell you,” Jazz said with a shy smile. “I’m pregnant.”
There was another round of squealing and hugs.
The door opened again, and Riley’s daughter Clementine burst through the door, her hair curled into ringlets.
“What’s going on?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and pouting. She clearly didn’t like being out of the loop.
“Er—nothing,” Jazz said.
“I can keep a secret,” Clementine said. “I keep lots of secrets.”
“Like what?” Riley asked her daughter.
“Like the ring Virgil has in his pocket.” She blinked. “Whoops. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”
“A ring?” Riley asked.
“Give me your glass,” Brooklyn said. “You look like you need another drink.”
I settled my bulk into the chair next to Savage. He took my hand. “Missed you.”
“I had to help the bride,” I said with a smile.
“How is Jazz? Shaking like a leaf? Cold feet?”
“Nah, nothing but warm toes,” I said, laying my head on his shoulder.
Horace and Angie Jackson lived on property and had more than enough room for a ceremony and party. A white event tent had been set up the day before and the caterers were ensuring everything was ready.
Homer stood in front of the wooden pergola. Pink and white flowers twined around the wooden beams. Roman and Virgil were with him, and they were conversing quietly while they waited for the ceremony to start.
Cozy and Riley sat in the front row next to the Jacksons, their heads bent as they exchanged some words. They saw me. Cozy gave me a finger wave. Riley looked flushed but happy at the news that Virgil had bought a ring.
I wondered when Cozy would come around to the idea of marriage. But like me, she’d been running scared. Roman was patient with her though, and that’s what she needed.
The string quartet struck a chord, signaling the start of the wedding. Everyone took their seats, and our attention turned to the back of the aisle.
Clementine was dressed in a pink dress, and she carried a basket of rose petals. She dropped them on the ground and when she got to the front, she went and sat on Horace’s lap.
Brooklyn and Brielle came down the aisle, one after the other. They looked gorgeous in their sage green bridesmaid dresses that complimented both of them. They went to stand under the pergola and waited for the bride.
Jazz hadn’t opted for a traditional white gown. Instead, it was satin cream with a spring flower motif. No veil covered her face.
She walked down the aisle as though a magnet were drawing her to Homer.
I looked at the groom, expecting to see a stoic expression crossing his face. But he surprised me. He wore a picture of awe, his jaw dropping a bit when he saw his bride-to-be.
“Well, look at that,” Savage whispered.
“I’m looking.”
The couple recited traditional vows, and I couldn’t stop the tears that gathered in my eyes. Savage reached into his pants pocket and handed me a handkerchief.
Smiling in surprise, I took it and dabbed my cheeks.
When the minister announced they were man and wife, Homer gathered Jazz in his arms and kissed her.
Hoots and cheers went up from the audience.
“Now for my favorite part of the wedding,” Savage said with a grin. “We get to eat.”
“Such a romantic,” I teased.
“I’ll show you romance,” he quipped.
Savage rose and then helped me from my chair. We ambled our way to the tent. Cater waiters swarmed us and offered us finger food and napkins.
“We should get married just so we can have goat cheese stuffed figs wrapped in bacon,” Savage said after he swallowed.
“We could just have that whenever we want,” I pointed out. “They’re not hard to make.”
“But they taste better at weddings.”
“What’s gotten into you?”
He took my elbow and led me to the bar. He asked for a bourbon and a mocktail for me.
“I just think you’d look gorgeous in a wedding gown.” He shrugged.
“Uh-huh.” I arched a brow. “Before or after I give birth? Because as it stands, I’d have to waddle down the aisle.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes? To what?”
“My marriage proposal.”
“Your marriage—” I huffed. “If you’re trying to convince me to marry you, maybe you should put some thought into it.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.”
“What’s she right about?” Willa asked as she pushed a pram toward us. Duke was next to her, holding a beer.
“That if he actually wants me to marry him, his proposal has to be more than just hey you’d look good in a wedding gown .”
Willa glared at Savage. “Seriously?”
“Oh, you think a big declaration is necessary,” Savage murmured. “Don’t you?”
“Well, kinda. It would be nice not for you to think I was a foregone conclusion,” I snapped.
“Hmm. For someone who said they never wanted to get married again, you’re getting kinda bent out of shape about a marriage proposal.”
Duke let out a laugh and Willa elbowed him in his side.
“I’m going to find the bathroom,” I stated. I pointed at Savage. “Don’t follow me. I’m mad at you.”
“Oh, more fig things,” Savage said, flagging down a waiter.
“Jerk,” I huffed.
I toddled toward the house. The kitchen was busy with catering staff restocking trays of food and drinks. I darted up the stairs toward the guest bedroom where the bridal party had gotten ready.
And came to a complete stop.
Brielle was pushed against a wall, a dark-haired man leaning over her. His hand was on her hip, and he stared at her like he wanted to consume her.
Something about him looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
Not until he turned to look at me and I knew who he was.
Recognition flashed through his eyes, but then he tamped it down.
Without a word, he pushed away from the wall and sauntered past me, heading down the stairs to disappear.
He hadn’t been wearing formal wear, so I knew he wasn’t an invited guest.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said softly. “I had to use the bathroom.”
Brielle came to me, grabbed my hand, and dragged me into the guest room. She closed the door and leaned against it, her chest heaving.
“Uh, I know it’s none of my business, but who was that? ” I asked.
“The man I’m sleeping with in secret.”
My eyes widened.
“You can’t tell anyone,” she begged. “Please.”
“I won’t tell anyone. Does Jazz know?”
“No. No one knows.” She bit her lip. “He wasn’t—I didn’t ask him to be my date. But he showed up and . . . and . . .”
“What’s his name?”
She paused. “Gage.”
I wondered if she knew that the brothers from the club knew him as simply—Ghost. Then again, I couldn’t very well ask questions without coming clean about how I knew him.
“How’d you two meet?”
She blushed. “I, ah, one night I went out to a bar. We met. We spent the night together. And then we’ve been . . . in secret.”
“You don’t think your brothers would approve? Because you met someone in a bar?” I asked in confusion.
“Every man I’ve introduced to my brothers, they’ve scared off.”
“No offense, but he looked like he could’ve held his own against them.”
“Yeah.” She bit her lip.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
She sighed. “The entire story.”
“Keep your secrets, Brielle. God knows, I’ve got plenty of my own.”
“That’s just it, though. I’m dying to talk about it with someone, and now that you know I can tell you.”
“I want to hear it all. But now’s not the best time,” I said.
“Right, because of the wedding.”
“That, and I have to pee.” I grinned. “But the minute we have a free day, it’s you and me.”
“Thanks, Evie.” She beamed. “Do your thing. I’ll see you down there.”
I took a few moments to myself. After I used the bathroom, I looked out the window. I could see the tent and the party and the wedding spot.
A lone figure stood underneath the pergola. A blond man wearing a leather cut. I knew by the stance that it was Savage.
With a sigh, I felt my annoyance at him dissipate.
I went to him, wondering if I could convince him to dance with me. I walked down the aisle toward him. He waited for me.
“What are you doing over here? Why aren’t you at the party?” I asked when I got to him.
His grin was lopsided. “Do you really think I’d propose to you in the middle of a party while I was eating a fig stuffed with goat cheese?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I admitted. “Since we’ve been back, you’ve been really busy with the club, which makes sense. But I—I miss you. Going to sleep without you. Waking up and you having to leave almost immediately.”
Savage didn’t say a word. Instead, he took off his leather cut and handed it to me to hold and then he began to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt. Savage was not a suit guy, not even for a wedding. But he had dressed up in his own biker way.
“You can’t get naked,” I snapped. “This is a wedding!”
He smirked. “I’m not getting naked. I wanted to show you something.”
Savage opened his shirt enough so that I could see the bandage concealing the spot over his chest. He then gently peeled back the covering to show me what he’d gotten tattooed on him.
Two peas in a pod.
“When did you have that done?” I whispered. “I sent that sketch to Roman only a few days ago.”
“This morning. I had Roman do it for me.”
“It’s beautiful.”
I started to cry.
“There’s another handkerchief in the inner pocket of my leather cut.”
I reached into the pocket, but there was no handkerchief.
Instead, there was a square velvet box.
I pulled it out and stared at it.
Savage took it from me and opened it, presenting it to me.
“I love you, Evie.” His eyes burned into me. “You’re my Old Lady. You’re the mother of my children. Be my wife.”
I swallowed, emotion pouring through every part of my heart, blasting away every worry, every concern.
Savage was Savage. And I hadn’t known it at the time, but I was his from the moment we’d met.
“Yes, Savage. I’ll marry you.”