Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER - ELLA
“And that’s a wrap for Ella!”
I nearly collapse when I hear those glorious words. Six consecutive fourteen-hour days on set will do that to a person. The crew breaks into applause, and I manage a wobbly curtsy before accepting a bouquet of flowers from the director.
“You were brilliant,” Miranda says, kissing both my cheeks. “Absolutely brilliant.”
I know she says that to everyone, but I still feel a rush of pride. My first real movie role, a supporting character in a BlackeThorne romantic comedy. I didn’t mess up, throw up, or give up. Although there were moments when all three seemed like a real possibility. Thankfully, not all at once.
That would not have been pretty…
Forty-five minutes later, I’m in a car headed home. Our home. Penthouse, I guess. Pent…home? Whatever.
We made it official a few months after we returned from the wedding. I’d been spending more time there than at my apartment. Clothes kept disappearing from my closet and reappearing in Adrian’s. Toiletries. Electronics. Slippers. The works…
I knew the change was inevitable when the only things left at my apartment were my bed, some half-eaten bags of candy, and picture frames with headshots of Nicolas Cage. Olivia was the mastermind behind that one. She wondered how long it would take me to notice.
Months.
Too many months.
When the elevator finally opens up to our penthouse, I’m hit with two distinct scents: something delicious and something not.
“Adrian?” I call out, nervously, unsure of what I just walked into.
I kick off my heels, groaning with relief. I forgot to pack some flats today, so my feet are killing me. Maybe I can convince Adrian into one of his killer foot massages. Then again, he probably won’t need much convincing. And there wouldn’t be much massaging because he’d get distracted, peel my clothes off my body, and well, I guess that wouldn’t be so bad either.
I follow the strange mixture of aromas to the kitchen, hesitant about what I might find. And when I round the corner, I find Adrian frantically waving a dish towel at a smoking oven.
“You’re early,” he says, looking caught between delight and alarm. “I was— cough, hack— hoping to have— hyacck, hyaacck— this under control before you got back.”
He slams the oven shut after dumping the charred remains of dinner on the counter.
“Open the window over there. I’ve got the terrace… and the fan.”
I laugh, watching as he wheels out a gigantic fan, turning it on before he heads to the sliding glass doors that lead to the terrace.
“You’ve got quite the system in place. I take it this isn’t your first time?”
“No,” he yells from the other side of the dining room.
I turn around, watching as he moves frantically through the kitchen. His hair’s beautifully disheveled with white streaks of flour in it. His shirt has smears of red sauce, and I’m having flashbacks of our first date here after the wedding.
Contrary to what Adrian told me, the man can not cook. I’ve never had spaghetti that was both over and undercooked. And the meatballs? I’d rather not talk about those.
“Okay, Gordan Ramsay.” I drop my bag. “Mind telling me what’s going on here?
Adrian turns, beaming as he strides toward me carrying a large platter with unburned pizza in his hands. Immediately, my heart races and my entire body lights up, partially because I’m starving, but mostly because of Adrian. You’d think that after a year, his smile wouldn’t affect me so much. I’d get used to seeing it and him, and the feelings I’ve had surging through my body from the start of our relationship would decrease, but that hasn’t happened at all. The moment I enter our home, my body amps up, anticipating him. Needing him.
“Happy anniversary.”
“But our anniversary isn’t until—” I pause, counting back the days in my head. “Crap. It is today. Oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot.”
I want to burrow into a hole. How in the world did I forget? I swear I had it marked down in my calendar. But before I have the chance to wallow, Adrian sets the platter down and swallows me up in his warm, comforting embrace and makes it all feel much, much better.
“It’s okay. You’ve been a little busy starring in your first movie. Besides, your being distracted provided me the perfect opportunity to surprise you.”
“With burnt pizza?”
“Not this one.” He waggles his eyebrows, nodding to the pizza in front of us. “But the surprise is that it’s the same pizza we had on our first unofficial date. The night of the rehearsal dinner. I had private lessons for over a week with the chef to recreate it.”
My stomach flips. I can’t believe he’d do that. But then again, is it really out of character? There are no half-measures with this man. Even so, I can’t help but laugh at picturing his suits dusted in flour and face smeared in pizza sauce. “Adrian Thorne taking cooking lessons? What would your board of directors say?”
“Probably that it’s a more productive use of my time than staring at pictures of you on my phone during meetings.”
“You do not.”
“Ask Asher. He’s threatened to confiscate my phone on multiple occasions.”
I wrap my arms around his waist, breathing in the scent of him. “So, you made the pizza from scratch. Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you learned how to make gelato from scratch, too.”
He’s silent for a moment too long.
“Wait.” I pull back to look at his face. “You didn’t…”
“No,” he admits, “but I did have some shipped here for dessert.”
“Oh my god.” I rise on my toes, kissing him, savoring his taste as his hands slide down to my waist, pulling me closer as our kiss deepens. I melt into him, dazed that this is my life now. This man. How lucky am I? Seriously. “You’re amazing. So incredibly thoughtful.” And then my mood sours, my chest tightening as the pit in my stomach grows. “But I didn’t get you anything. I can’t believe I forgot. I?—”
“You’re all I need, Ella. You’re all I want. I don’t care. I’m so proud of you for what you’ve done. What you’re doing. You just wrapped up your first film. Let’s celebrate that. Let’s celebrate us. And besides…” Adrian slides his hands lower, cupping my ass, gripping me tightly as he stares down at me with hooded eyes, “I’m more interested in eating you tonight.”
A frisson of excitement races through me as tingles radiate all over my body. The man is insatiable. Usually, he’s at the door, waiting for me if he’s the first one home. I love it. I love him. And as Adrian threads his fingers through my hair, pulling me into another deep kiss, something batters insistently at my ankles, meowing indignantly at us.
“Someone’s jealous,” Adrian murmurs against my lips.
I glance down to find Snickerdoodle, our orange tabby, glaring up at me with what can only be described as feline disapproval. She bats at my leg again, clearly offended that I’m monopolizing her human.
“Sorry, Snicks,” I say, bending down to scratch behind her ears. “He was mine first.”
This was another surprise from Adrian. Apparently, she’d been hanging around the loading dock in the building, and Adrian heard about it in passing, adopting her on the spot. And let’s just say, she’s about as attached to him as I am.
Adrian snorts and then sneezes because he’s still mildly allergic. “Try telling her that. Yesterday I found her sleeping on my laptop when I left it on the couch for five minutes.”
“She’s marking her territory and begging for your attention. Aren’t you, you possessive little monster?” I try to pick her up, but she bats at me.
We’re working on it. She sat next to me on the couch a few days ago, so she’s not entirely opposed to me.
Adrian scoops her up and scratches her behind the ears. “She’s a little grumpy today.”
“She’s also been plotting my demise since the day I moved in.” I narrow my eyes at the cat, who gives me an innocent blink in return. I reach out to stroke her head. Snickerdoodle allows this contact for approximately three seconds before deciding she’s had enough, wriggling out of Adrian’s arms and scurrying off into our bedroom.
“Now that I’ve got you all to myself…” I lean in. Adrian leans in. “Let’s eat,” I mutter against his lips.
“Fine,” Adrian says, sighing. “But not without one last taste.”
He thrusts his hand behind my head, tunneling his fingers through my hair as he guides my lips to his. When he kisses me, my body feels like it’s going to burst. Fireworks here. Explosions there. It’s hard to believe that kissing Adrian gets even better and better. I can’t imagine how it will be a decade from now if it keeps going on this trajectory.
Thankfully, Snickerdoodle leaves us be for the moment, allowing us to break the kiss when we feel like it, which coincides with my grumbling stomach.
“Sorry,” I breathe.
“Don’t be,” Adrian mutters, brushing my lips with my thumb. “That should be enough to hold me over until dessert.”
“Mmm… gelato.”
“Mmm… Ella.”
I snort. “Easy, tiger.”
“Never.” He kisses me harshly, slaps my ass, and then guides me over to a barstool at the island, my mind still reeling when he slides a plate in front of me with a slice of pizza that looks quite good.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
I smile, giddy as I look at Adrian, handsome as ever. Amazing as ever. “Nothing about you surprises me anymore.”
He frowns. “Guess I’ll have to cook something else up.”
“Maybe another trip. Let the professionals deal with the meals.”
He taps the edge of my plate. “See if that changes your mind.”
He watches me closely as I grab the slice, taking it to my mouth, pausing for a few beats before he nudges me to keep going. And I do. And I HOLY HELL! It’s crispy and crunchy and gooey and some of the best damn pizza I’ve ever had. “It feels like I’ve been transported back to that night. Seriously, Adrian, this is amazing.”
Adrian takes a bite and groans approvingly.
“This is making me feel better than the day I found out BlackeThorne won its lawsuit against Eugene.”
Adrian laughs. “Glad you enjoy it. And on that note, I have an update. I heard through the grapevine that he’s selling used cars in New Jersey.”
I nearly choke on my pizza. “No.”
“It’s true. No one in the industry will touch him.”
“Okay, you need to stop right now. Any more news like that and I might orgasm right now.”
Adrian nearly chokes on his pizza, but then recovers, eyes watering. “I may not be able to surprise you anymore, but you’re certainly full of them.”
“Did I make the unflappable Adrian Thorne blush?”
He shakes his head, setting down his pizza as flames flicker in his eyes and his voice deepens. “No. You made me think about you orgasming. And what’s in store for you tonight. It’s our anniversary, Ella, and I plan on making it a memorable one.”
Hoooo boy…
* * *
And Adrian’s not wrong. He’s made our first anniversary very memorable. Now we’re capping off the night, watching the sunset in our rooftop garden with our bellies full of gelato and pizza. Every time we’re up here, I’m reminded of the balcony at the wedding. It felt like we were in a different world, separated from all the guests. It’s Adrian’s pride and joy, a lush oasis high above the city with comfortable seating, twinkling lights strung overhead, and an unobstructed view of the skyline.
But I’m not paying attention to the sunset. I can’t. Not with the man of my dreams holding me, wrapping me up in his strong arms, and making me feel so damn complete. I never knew it was possible to love someone as deeply as I love Adrian. I thought it had to be hard work, day in and day out. Sure, there are days that he might push my buttons. Days that he might be a little too high-strung from tense meetings. But once he holds me. Once our lips touch. All of the tension melts away, and my love for him pools inside me until it feels like I’m about to burst.
“Happy anniversary,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Happy anniversary.” I nestle closer, feeling that familiar sense of contentment I get whenever I’m with him. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”
“Best year of my life.”
I look at him, struck by the sincerity in his voice. “Mine too.”
“And here’s to many more.” He takes a sip of his champagne and then sets it back down. I can’t help but notice him reaching into his pocket, playing with something. A few moments later, he says. “I have something for you.”
“Is it more gelato? Because I’m already in a dairy coma.”
“Better than gelato.”
“Nothing is better than gelato.”
He pulls out a small velvet box, and my heart stops. I think I’ve been proved wrong.
Adrian slides off the cushion, onto one knee, and suddenly I can’t breathe. My mind races. My heart is beating so fast I think it’s going to burst from my chest, or possibly rocket through my mouth and into outer space.
“Ella Bridges,” he says, grabbing my hand. “I knew the moment I first met you, you were special. It felt like I knew you. Had known you for years. As though a part of me recognized you. My heart. My soul. Everything clicked into place.” He strokes my fingers with his thumb, eyes focused on mine as I feel my throat begin to close up. “I asked you to pretend to be in love with me, hoping that you actually would because I knew I’d never meet another person like you. I feel whole when you’re with me. Lost when you’re gone.” He swallows hard. “I never believed in love at first sight until I met you.”
Tears stream down my face as my vision blurs.
“You changed everything for me, and I can’t picture a future without you in it.”
He opens the box, revealing a stunning emerald-cut diamond that catches the last rays of the setting sun.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I somehow manage through a tight, achy throat. “God, yes.”
He slips the ring onto my finger, and it’s perfect. It’s elegant but not ostentatious, exactly what I would have chosen. But I don’t have much time to admire it before he captures my lips in a kiss that, still, after a year together, makes me feel like I’m in freefall.
I can’t imagine my life getting any better than this.
…But I am sure Adrian will find another way to surprise me once again.