Epilogue
Later that fall: Lucy
I t was late in the afternoon as Lucy drove through Blewett Pass. With her windows down, the crisp air breezed in with promises of a long, warm autumn. Pops of reds and oranges clung to the few deciduous trees that dotted the sides of the road and the sun neared its final flaming descent below the rocky cliffs.
With her Kia full of boxes, Lucy headed to Leavenworth.
Her new home.
She pulled up to one of the lots in town and parked her car. Giving her key fob a beep, she walked up the steps to The Rooftop Tavern to grab a quick bite before meeting up with her new live-in boyfriend. The server, Stella, handed over a menu and strode to the bar to get Lucy a beer. Looking down to decide what to eat, she heard someone approach from behind but stop just before reaching her.
“Do you come here often?” The deep, silky tenor enveloped her, tickling various sensitive spots on her body. How could a voice affect her so viscerally?
Lucy replied without turning around or lifting her eyes from the menu. “I’m grabbing a bite while I wait for my fella. He’s getting off work soon and should be here any minute.”
“Well, your fella is certainly a lucky man coming home to someone like you every night.”
“We’ve been long distance, so he doesn’t get to see me every night. Until now.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because he asked me to move in with him.” Lucy finally glanced over her shoulder and up to the most ruggedly handsome man in the room.
Jonathan took her hand and helped her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. Pulling back, he smiled. “I love you, sunshine.”
“I love you too,” she returned, smiling so hard she thought her face might break in half.
“I missed you more than you know.” He breathed, tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear. The intimately gentle contact produced a burst of goosebumps and shivers.
Lucy giggled. “You just saw me three days ago.”
“And those were the longest three days of my life.” She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the lost devastation that swept across his face.
“Well, lucky for you, I’ll be here every day now. Can you handle that?”
“Oh, I can handle you, no problem.” His eyes flashed molten amber.
“Is that so?” she challenged.
“Don’t believe me? Cancel that beer and we can go home—to our home—and I’ll show you just how well I can handle you.”
She leaned in, a whisper away from touching her lips to his, and murmured, “Prove it.”
With a quirk of his eyebrow and a low growl, Jonathan picked Lucy up and threw her over his shoulder.
“Put me down, you big lumberjack, or else,” she squealed, grateful that she’d put on jeans that day instead of the fall-toned dress she’d originally picked out. Her laughter gave zero credit to the genuineness of her warning, and the other bar patrons paid little notice, aside from an occasional snicker, as he lugged her toward the exit.
Just before he marched out into the waning evening glow, he threw a shout over his shoulder, “Stella, cancel Lucy’s beer. She has an important matter to deal with.”
The End