Epilogue
Nate Bennet’s House in Marietta, Montana
Three months later
Sam stood in front of the floor-length mirror she’d finagled Nate into purchasing for his bathroom door. Maybe a man who existed in jeans and T-shirts didn’t need to see his whole body, but Sam did. Especially for this rare occasion of attending a bridal shower slash bachelorette party.
And since she had helped him pick out furniture, decorate, and spent almost all of her time here, she thought she got a say in what kind of things Nate should have at his house.
Sure, they fought sometimes, and every once in a while, she stayed at her apartment just to prove she could. Or because he’d pissed her off.
But they always came back to each other.
Sam still kept tabs on Bo. She didn’t like to keep secrets from Nate, but she thought that was a fair enough one. If she ever found anything of note, she’d tell him.
But all Bo had done these past few months, far as she could tell, was exist. He lived with his mother and didn’t work—meaning he’d taken a payoff somewhere along the way.
Maybe that was fair enough. She couldn’t quite work up hate for him, even if she didn’t feel sorry for him anymore.
She wrinkled her nose at her reflection. Her dress was uncomfortable, but it suited a fancy dinner at the Graff. Her makeup was passable. And yes, she was kind of dreading this whole thing, but not enough to make up an excuse not to go.
Aly was her friend again. Jill was getting to be a friend. This was what friends did.
She blew out a breath, then stepped out of the bathroom. Nate was lounging on the bed in sweats. He had a laptop on his lap, no doubt doing some work. They’d been busy again after the trial. Each of them had a stack of cases to see through.
“Well, how do I look?” she asked.
He looked up from the screen. He didn’t say anything at first. “How come you never wear a dress for me?” He set the laptop aside and slid off the bed.
“Because we never go anywhere. Besides it’s uncomfortable as hell.”
He crossed the room to her, but she held up a hand. “Keep your hands off me. I spent way too much time on this makeup, even if it doesn’t look like it.”
He stopped, her hand pushing against his chest. “I like the way you look.”
“Yeah, well … I’ve got to get going. I’m running late thanks to said makeup.”
“Okay, just one thing first. What do girls talk about at these kinds of things?”
She grabbed her purse and started walking out of the room, Nate at her heels. “Women talk about … I don’t know. I’ve never been to one of these things.” She made it to the door, shrugged on her coat.
“Relationship things?”
“Sure. Maybe. Why? You want me to get the details on Aly and Landon’s sex life?”
“Christ, Sam,” he said, so pained she laughed in spite of her nerves.
She grabbed the little gift she’d gotten Aly.
She’d gone in with Jill to get Aly some fancy coffee machine, but Sam had done something uncharacteristically sentimental and found an old set of notes Aly had written her in fifth or sixth grade, where they’d been going back and forth all about what they wanted to do when they grew up—rather than paying attention in math class.
Aly hadn’t written marry Landon Bennet, but everything about her future even then had been about staying at the Bennet Ranch, helping Landon run it. So Sam had put them into a little scrapbook for Aly to have.
Sam still felt weird about giving it to her, but Nate had poked and prodded until she’d felt like she had to. She never should have told him the idea.
Before she could open the door, Nate recovered from her suggesting he wanted to know about his brother’s sex life.
“If relationship topics come up, maybe you should ask them if you should move in with me. Officially.”
Sam stilled. It wasn’t … that big of a deal. They practically did live together. She was here all the time. But they’d never talked about it. Never … made it official.
“Like, I’d have to rent out my apartment to somebody?”
“Yeah.” He pulled the hair that was trapped in the collar of her coat out for her. “Like that.”
She looked up at him then. It wasn’t like she’d never thought about it, and it didn’t change anything in their day-to-day. But it was a step. It was an official commitment.
“You think about it. Talk about it. I don’t need an answer right now.”
Sam swallowed the little lump in her throat. No, he wouldn’t. But why stave off the inevitable? This was where they were going, step by step. Maybe it still had the potential to blow up in her face, but a stable, adult relationship was a learning experience, right?
Besides, she loved him, and no amount of anxiety or fear or self-doubt seemed to make that go away.
“I don’t need to think about it or talk to them,” she managed to say. “I’ll put the apartment up for rent tomorrow.”
He grinned at her, but when he bent down, presumably to kiss her, she put her hand on his chest again to stop the forward movement. “But you’re still not ruining my makeup.”
“Tough customer,” he said, but he was still grinning.
And Sam realized she was just … happy. Straight through. Not that shitstorms would never brew again, but she wasn’t actively waiting for one. No, she was enjoying living her life.
“I love you,” she said, because she did and because it mattered and because that was the center of the happy.
“Love you too. Have fun tonight, Sam.”
And she’d try. Really. Because of that whole life thing and the fact he’d lifted some of the swirling discomfort over trying to participate in a friends thing by reminding her that … steps forward, relationships, it was all work, but it was all good.
She walked over to the Graff knowing Jill and Aly had beat her there. Once inside, she wound her way through to their table. She greeted them both then sat down.
It was weird, but it wasn’t uncomfortable like Sam expected.
Jill was good at maneuvering the conversation.
They talked about the wedding. It’d be a casual, tiny affair on the ranch.
They talked about Jill’s book that was going to come out this year.
Sam shared some funny stories from some cases over the past few months, and they all lamented how long winter seemed to drag on.
Eventually, Sam had enough drinks to blurt out her own personal news. “Nate asked me to move in with him. Officially.”
Aly squealed—definitely aided by liquor. “Oh my God, Sam. You said yes, right?”
“Yes, I said yes.”
Aly grabbed her hand. Squeezed. “You’re good together.”
“Yeah, we are.” She blew out a breath, because that still felt like tempting fate to admit, but there was no way around it being the truth.
She looked at Aly, her old best friend, her new friend.
Life was a hell of a ride. “Look at us, Al. Both shacked up with a Bennet brother. Who would have guessed?”
Aly’s eyes were suspiciously shiny, but she didn’t cry.
Until she opened the gifts. Jill hadn’t dragged the whole coffee machine inside. Instead had printed out a picture.
“Landon’s getting it all set up as we speak,” she explained.
“You guys. That’s too much.” Still, Aly held on to the tears.
“I got you just a little something sentimental too,” Sam said, trying not to sound as uncomfortable as she felt.
She pushed the box across the table.
Aly did cry when she opened it and then looked through the notes Sam had put together. “I can’t believe you kept these.” She put her hands on them, the tears just tripping down her cheeks. “God, how long ago this all was.”
“And look, maybe there were some really shitty detours, but you ended up just where you wanted to be.”
Aly nodded, still crying. Jill hugged her, and Sam awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Sorry … I guess I should have…”
“No, it’s perfect. It’s perfect. I’m just so happy, and that kind of scares me. But I want to enjoy it. We should all enjoy it.” Aly beamed at both of them with a tear-stained face.
Sam felt happy, but she didn’t miss how Jill’s smile got a little tight.
“God, I need to clean myself up. I’ll be right back.” Aly got up from the booth and disappeared into the crowd, headed for the bathroom.
For a moment, Jill said nothing, just maintained that tight, fake smile. Then slowly her gaze turned to Sam.
“Sam, I have a favor to ask you,” she said, very seriously.
Seriously enough Sam didn’t think it had anything to do with Aly or the wedding.
“Well, not so much a favor as a job I hope you’ll take. Maybe now’s not the time to bring it up, but I want you to think about it.”
Sam tried to ready herself. Whatever came next was serious.
“I want you to look into my grandmother. I want you to find what happened to her all those years ago.”
Sam waited for Jill to say more. But when Jill didn’t, Sam had to clarify. “Behind her back?”
Jill’s gaze was steady. Certain. “Yes. I want the truth. She won’t give it to me, and I … I need to know. I think we all need to know. Once and for all.”
The End