Epilogue
TEALUA ISLAND – SIX MONTHS LATER
Juliana leaned back against the hammock, the salty breeze tangling her hair as she flipped her leather-bound itinerary open on her lap.
It wasn’t as rigidly color-coded as the ones she’d clung to back in San Francisco, but it wasn’t blank either.
She’d penciled in just enough structure to keep herself from twitching.
Sunrise hike, snorkeling, a dinner under the stars.
But right there in the middle, in bold capital letters, she’d written:
WHATEVER WHIM GIDEON GETS TODAY.
She smiled, tapping the page with her pen as Gideon dropped into the hammock beside her, sending it rocking dangerously.
“Let me guess,” he said, stealing the itinerary from her hands. “You scheduled spontaneity again?”
She swatted at him, laughing. “It’s called balance. You’re welcome.”
His arm slid around her shoulders, warm and familiar, and she melted into his side.
“I know exactly what I want to do with that time on the schedule,” he whispered, kissing her neck. Her temperature began to rise as she squirmed in anticipation.
“Oh yeah? Do we need to move to the bedroom?” she asked, trying not to gasp at how his lips tickled the spot between her ear and her jaw.
Gideon created some distance and gave her a wicked smile. “Nope,” he said, popping the p. “Let’s go, my love. Gideon’s adventure of the day is waiting.”
Twenty minutes later, as they trekked through the dense palms, the air thick with the scent of hibiscus and salt, she was beginning to question what exactly she’d agreed to. Her sandals slipped against the damp earth, and she tightened her grip on Gideon’s hand.
“You’re walking like a woman heading for her execution,” he teased.
“That’s because I probably am.” She adjusted the strap of her crossbody bag, muttering under her breath. “This was not what I envisioned when I wrote romantic island getaway. I was thinking candlelit dinners. Maybe hammocks. Not . . . cliff-jumping.”
Gideon glanced back, dimples flashing. “It’s a lagoon. There’s turquoise water. That’s romantic.”
“That’s terrifying.”
But then they reached the clearing, and the words stuck in her throat.
The cliff overlooked a pool of water so blue it looked unreal, fed by a waterfall that thundered down the rocks.
Locals and tourists were climbing, jumping, screaming, laughing.
The air was alive with the kind of joy that came from throwing caution to the wind.
Juliana’s breath caught. “Oh wow.”
“See?” Gideon’s arm slid around her waist. “Romantic.”
She gave him a flat look, but her pulse betrayed her.
Six months ago, she would’ve clung to control, to plans, to safety.
But life had already laughed at her color-coded itinerary.
She’d ended up married by accident. Twice.
Once under orchids in Tealua, once beneath the rafters of the Triple R chapel on New Year’s Day.
She was carrying his child. She loved him so much it scared her sometimes.
And suddenly, maybe cliff-jumping wasn’t the craziest leap she’d ever made.
“Trust me,” he said, tugging her closer to the edge. “We’ll jump together.”
Her laugh cracked with nerves. “That line better not end up on my tombstone.”
“Don’t worry.” His grin turned wicked. “I’ll make sure it says, ‘Here lies Juliana Emerson Reynolds, who finally admitted her husband was right.’”
She smacked his chest. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love me.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
They stepped to the ledge, spray misting her face. Juliana looked down at the drop, her heart pounding. “If your mother knew I was doing this while pregnant—”
“She’d book the next flight just to stop you.” Gideon leaned closer, voice warm at her ear. “But she’s not here. I am. And I promise, Jules, I won’t let go.”
Her throat tightened, but she nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
He squeezed her hand. “Three . . . two . . .”
“I changed my mind!” she yelped. But they were already in the air.
The world dropped away in a rush of wind and light and sound. Her scream tangled with laughter as they plunged, weightless and wild. Then the water hit—cold, shocking, glorious—and swallowed them whole.
Juliana surfaced with a sputter, hair plastered to her face, lungs burning with exhilaration. Gideon was right there, grinning like a fool, his arm steady at her back.
“Best detour yet,” he said.
She shoved wet hair out of her eyes, cheeks aching from smiling.
Her hand drifted instinctively to her stomach.
The secret was only weeks old, still fragile and precious, but the thought of the tiny heartbeat already growing there filled her with an awe that stole her breath.
Their child. Their future. “You know what?” she said softly. “You might be right.”
Gideon noticed. He always did. His palm slid over hers, covering it, anchoring her. His grin softened into something deeper. “You realize this means I’m outnumbered, right? You, the baby, and your itinerary against me and my whims.”
His arm slid around her shoulders, droplets of water streaming down his face and chest. These days, she felt extra puffy and exhausted, but he looked at her like she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
They hadn’t needed another wedding after Tealua’s Sacred Union, but on New Year’s Day, in the Triple R Chapel with the valley spread behind the glass and candles glowing against the snow, they’d made it official.
And when she’d walked down the aisle, Gideon’s smile had been the only thing in her world.
As the waterfall roared behind them and the lagoon echoed with laughter, his lips met hers as they treaded water, their legs brushing under the surface. And for the first time in her life, Juliana wasn’t thinking about plans or fears or what came next. She wasn’t bracing for the fall.
She’d already leapt.
And this wild, messy, beautiful life with Gideon was exactly where she was meant to land.