Epilogue
RIGGS
One Year Later
Go… Gemma
Go… Gemma
Go… Gemma
2.5 miles an hour.
3% incline.
Looking up from the treadmill’s display, I find Janet sitting in the doorway between the kitchen and the sunroom, looking at me like I’m the problem.
“I already told you,” I say, hands gripped around the guardrail while my legs and feet keep plodding along at a snail’s pace. “We’ll go see Gemma when I’m ready.”
Gray tufted ears falling flat against her skull, she narrows her yellow eyes at me for a moment before she disappears into the kitchen again.
She’s been at it for over an hour now. She’ll give it a good ten minute run of constant badgering before she stops and comes to check to see if I’m sufficiently brainwashed.
When she sees that I’m still, in her opinion, fucking around, she goes back to her buttons and starts up a fresh round of fuckery.
This time, she changes her tune.
Tell… Gemma
Tell… Gemma
Tell… Gemma
Hitting the stop button on the treadmill.
I laugh. “You better not, you fuckin’ snitch,” I call out while my legs instantly begin to wobble and twitch—a clear sign that they’ve been overworked.
I’ve been pushing myself harder than I should.
In addition to keeping up with my 3-hour daily PT session on my own, I’ve also been sneaking in some extra training while Gem’s at work.
Which is the secret my asshole cat is threatening to expose.
If she knew I was logging treadmill time without her or Bruce (while he’s not officially my physical therapist anymore, he still stops by a few times a week to hang out) around, she’d probably bite the shit out of me—not that I’d mind.
Besides, since beating the shit out of Colt Montgomery is no longer an option, I’ve had to set a new goal—and this one is a thousand times more important than kicking that annoying dickhead’s ass.
Riggs… bitch
“I’m serious, Janet.” Using my grip on the handrails to lower myself onto the bench behind me, I rub at the back of my head with my towel. “You say one word and I’ll never give you another Churu again.”
Mouse
“Assault and blackmail,” I say, pivoting myself around to face my wheelchair. “You’re really on one today, aren’t you?”
Go… Gemma… please…
Please and thank you are recent additions to her vocabulary.
Emily’s been trying to teach Janet manners but I think the only thing it’s really teaching her is how useful manipulation can be.
“Okay.” Maneuvering myself into my chair, I roll across the open room to the double chest of drawers that Gem and I share.
Opening the top drawer on my side the dresser, I snag a fresh pair of boxers. “But I’m taking a shower first.”
Abuse
“You’ll live.”
Rude
“Asshole.”
Gem moved her stuff down here and the sunroom became our bedroom months ago. When I told her I was just as happy to move my stuff up to her room and suffer the stairs, she told me no.
This way, we can lay in bed and watch the sunrise over the river together, every morning.
Every morning has been bit of a stretch. Most mornings, I wake up with nothing but a fifty pound Churu addict making biscuits on my neck—but when I open my eyes and she’s next to me, watching the sun rise with Gem in my arms is my favorite thing to do. Second only to giving her sunrise orgasms.
Please
See what I mean?
Master manipulator.
“Shower first,” I say firmly on my way to the bathroom. “And I’ll get you a Churu for the road.”
Thank you
Not buying it, I make sure to shut the bathroom door and lock it for good measure.
Pulling up in font of June’s an hour later, my feline overlord riding shotgun, I put it in park and kill the engine.
Since losing my legs, driving a regular car is no longer an option for me.
Even though I can technically walk again, my reaction time isn’t anywhere near where it used to be.
Not being able to drive wasn’t an option, so I bought a decent used truck and had Red, Reese’s father, install hand controls that allow me to accelerate and break safely.
It looks like a gearshift. Push it when I want to stop.
Turn it when I want to go. It took some getting used to, but I can get in my truck and come see Gem at work whenever I want to, so it was worth it.
“Alright,” I say, holding up Janet’s harness and leash.
“You know the drill.” I’ll admit that walking a house cat the size of a small mountain lion on a leash is a bit ridiculous but the last thing I need is someone to call Colt because my asshole cat decided to bolt and reek havoc at the post office.
Even though she’s not happy about it, Janet submits, allowing me to strap on her harness and leash with minimal growling.
Leashed up, I hook the loop over my side mirror so she can’t take off while I wrestle my walker out of the bed of my truck.
While I still use my chair at home, most of the time, I use my walker when we go places.
It’s easier to maneuver and I’m not above admitting I like the feeling of walking beside Gemma while we’re out, even if I have to use a walker to do it.
I’m working on transitioning to a cane—we can add that to my list of goals.
Stepping onto the curb in front of June’s, I say a quick hey to Walker Hendrix, the fire chief, on his way out with a few takeout bags.
Making our way down the sidewalk, Janet’s leash looped around my walker, we make slow progress and earn only a few startled glances.
Most people have gotten used to seeing Janet around town by now.
She’s surprisingly patient with my serious lack of speed.
The first time we did this, I was sure she’d do her best to drag me down the street, first squirrel she saw, but she didn’t—whether it’s because she knows if she does, she’ll never see the inside of my truck again, or because she actually gives a shit about me, is a mystery.
Bypassing June’s, we walk the half block between the diner and Beau’s Bakery.
Well, it’s not Beau’s anymore.
It’s Gem’s.
Turns out, we knew the building’s owner all along.
Jensen’s been quietly buying up Barrett real estate for a while now.
If a store owner is struggling, Jen bails them out.
When he heard that Gem was interested in renting out the bakery, he was more than happy to give her a long-term lease at a very reasonable rate.
She opened for business about three months ago and she’s had a line out the door ever since.
Thankfully, today is Monday.
Mondays are Gem’s baking day—the day she uses to prep and bake custom orders—and that means she’s closed for business.
Using my key, I unlock the door and let myself in. The little brass bell above the door lets out a chime and Gem answers from the back almost immediately.
“Is that you?”
“Me who?” Laughing, I close the door behind me and lock it before I unclip Janet’s leash. As soon as she’s free, she bolts for the window seat built into Gem’s large, storefront window. Jumping up on its padded bench, she does what she came here to do—stares out the window and menaces pedestrians.
“Me you,” Gem calls back, her tone lilting with laughter.
“It’s me.” Abandoning my walker, I take slow careful steps toward the front counter.
Her display cases are damn near empty—she almost always sells out on Sundays, which means it’ll be a late night for her, getting them restocked for tomorrow morning’s coffee crowd.
Passing the counter, I push my way through the swinging door that leads to the kitchen and then I just stop and look at her.
Because there was a time, not so long ago, that looking at her and letting myself feel the way she makes me feel would’ve sent me into a tailspin. But not now.
Now, when I look at her, all I feel is grateful—and if I’m honest, a little nervous.
“She wouldn’t leave you alone, would she?
” Gem says to me over her shoulder, that perfectly made mouth of hers tipped up in a knowing smirk.
Since it’s baking day and late spring in Texas, Gem’s wearing her usual—worn cut offs that are little too short for public, in my opinion, and a tank top under her apron.
Her honey blonde hair is piled on top of her head and flour is dusting one of her freckled cheeks while she stacks bowls and utensils in the sink.
So damn pretty.
“She dragged a gopher through the dog door today,” I say, telling her what sort of chaos she missed this morning while I make my way toward her. “Fortunately, it was still alive. It only took me forty-five minutes to get it out of the house.”
Gemma laughs, the sound of it shooting straight through me. “Fortunately?”
“For the gopher.” Stopping directly behind her, I lean into her and press a kiss to the side of her exposed neck. “What are you baking?”
When she feels my mouth brush across her skin, Gem melts into me, her back pressing against the solid wall of my chest while my arms circle around her.
“Working on a lemon meringue cake recipe for Scarlett’s birthday this weekend,” she says with a sigh, her shoulders relaxing.
“And I’ve got a Texas sheet cake in the oven for tonight. ”
We still head over to the Mill every Monday night so Gem can have girl time and I can trade insults with Cade and Colt while Jensen referees.
Which is actually why I’m here.
Shit. I’m nervous.
Like she can feel it coming off of me in waves, Gem straightens herself and turns to look at me over her shoulder. “Is everything okay?” When I don’t answer her, she turns around completely. “Riggs, what’s?—”
Taking a step back, I decide it’s now or never.
Engaging my core, I start to move, slowly lowering myself onto one knee.
“Riggs—” Arms outstretched, Gem moves toward me like she thinks I’m falling and she’s trying to catch me—and then she realizes what I’m doing.
“Oh…” Eyes wide, Gem drops her arms and stands here, watching me while I do something I’ve been training for, for nearly a year.
Something that, a year and a half ago, would’ve been as easy for me as breathing.
On bended knee, I reach into my pocket and pull out a ring.
But it’s more than that.
It’s a promise.
“It was my mothers,” I tell her, looking down at the simple gold band with its small, round diamond. “I know it’s not much but?—”
“Shut up, Riggs.” Grinning down at me, tears swimming in her beautiful hazel eyes, Gemma shakes her head. “Just shut up and ask me, already.”
That’s her.
That’s my Gem.
And suddenly, I’m not nervous anymore.
Because this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
“Will you marry me, Gem?”
Closing the distance between us, Gemma wraps her arms around my neck. Leaning down, she whispers against my lips.“What took you so long?”
“You know me,” I say, pulling her arm from around my neck so I can put my ring on her finger. Kissing her softly, I pull back and give her a smile. “I’m a hard learner.”
The End