Epilogue
One Year Later
It was treat time, and Mosey was nowhere to be found.
Vi shook the treat bag again, peering around the back room. The shop was already closed, which meant they were long overdue for his last treat of the day.
“Mosey,” Vi called. “Seriously, I’m leaving now! Triss won’t remember to feed you your treat. You’ll have to bother Chester, and you know how he gets!”
Nothing. Vi sighed.
The door opened. Gabriella poked her head through. “Is he here?”
“Nope.” Vi shook the treat bag one last time and shrugged. “Guess he’ll have to put up with Chester. How are things out there?”
“Everything’s fallen apart,” Gabriella deadpanned. “Suze set something on fire. Lydia’s pole dancing on her cane. Oh, look, Nick broke a window with his great big arms.”
“Shut up about his big arms,” Vi said, and followed her into the store.
The party was dying down. The drinks table was lined with used glasses, a lone wine bottle sitting next to them for refills. A food table sat next to it, picked clean.
Vi smiled as she saw the empty plates. “Which went first? The éclairs or the macaroons?”
“Macaroons,” Gabriella replied. “I don’t know what he puts in them. It’s like crack. Whatever you paid him, it wasn’t enough.”
Vi snorted. She craned her neck, looking over everyone’s heads to see the baker himself.
Nick stood in the middle of the book club, gesturing wildly. His elbow caught on a bookshelf and he lurched to steady it, wincing. Rosie said something to him and he laughed, face falling into such relaxed delight that Vi couldn’t help but smile along with him.
Then, as if she’d rung a bell, he looked over at her. He paused, raising his dark brows.
Vi nodded.
Nick nodded back, eyes warm. He looked relieved.
They were better at parties now, but they still preferred to leave early.
He turned to wave at his old coworkers across the room.
Duncan was shaking a shelf to judge its sturdiness, Wyatt nodding at whatever his new mer girlfriend was saying, a fond smile behind his fangs.
Vi turned to Gabriella. “I’m heading off. Where’s the birthday boy?”
Gabriella pointed. Chester stood over by the window display, pointing at something with his new cane. Triss stood next to him, examining her tail and nodding with an expression that meant she wasn’t taking any of this in.
Chester cut off as he noticed Vi walking toward him.
“My favorite employee,” he said, laughing. “You devil, you. If I ever walk into another surprise party—”
“Triss organized most of it,” Vi said. She folded him in a hug, pressing a kiss to his scaly forehead. “I’m going to head off. Triss, you’re good to close?”
She tossed Triss the treat bag.
Triss caught it with her tail. “I got it, Chief.”
Then, just as Vi was about to turn away, Triss groaned. “Wait, you haven’t even put the glasses in the dishwasher? Come on!”
“I’m busy,” Vi said apologetically. Then, when Triss opened her mouth again: “It’s important, Triss. You can handle the dishwasher.”
Triss sighed. “Fine. How do I work it again?”
“Turn the dial until it’s almost clicked, then press Start.”
Chester swatted her lightly in the shin with his fake-bone cane. Not as good as Rosie’s, but as good as he could get it.
“Go on, you,” he told her. “Onto your super-important nightlife.”
“Ooh,” said a familiar voice behind her. “Sounds fun.”
Vi turned just in time for Nick’s large arm to slip around her shoulders, cocooning her in warmth. She leaned into him, breathing in his heady scent: soap and the faintest whiff of motor oil.
Vi waved to the book club. They waved back. Or, most of them did. Joshua and Suze were already distracted with an argument over which classic romance had the worst leading man, and only managed a nod.
Nick pressed his lips into her hair, close to her ribbon.
“They’re gonna kill me next session,” he murmured. “They love the act-three twist.”
Vi groaned under her breath as they headed for the front door.
“I know,” Nick consoled. “Rosie’s a little on our side. Otherwise, we’re on our own.”
A loud meow interrupted them. Mosey jumped down from a shelf and twined between Vi’s legs, purring loudly.
“Triss has your treat,” Vi told him. “Go on.”
He pressed his tiny wet nose against her leg and flew off toward Triss.
“Stay out of trouble,” Nick called after him. He held the door open, sinking into a bow as Vi emerged into the chilly winter air.
“Who’s riding home?” Nick asked, twirling the motorcycle keys around one long finger. “Me or you?”
Vi hummed, thinking. “Me.”
He tossed her the keys. She caught them easily, taking her helmet off the motorcycle handlebar. He’d brought her one a few days after they officially got together. It was dark purple and had three words emblazoned on the front: BAD BOOK BITCH.
It was ridiculous. Other than the color, which matched her hair ribbon, it didn’t suit anything Vi owned. She loved it dearly.
She tightened the strap under her chin and climbed onto the motorcycle seat. He slid up behind her, his chest pressing warm and solid all up her back.
“Onward, to your very important appointment.”
“Shut up,” she told him, grinning. Still, she couldn’t help but go over her mental schedule, a habit almost as old as she was.
“Who’s doing the quiz this week?” she wondered aloud. “You or me?”
“You, the first day,” he reminded her. “Me, the second. And it’s my turn on the food bank this week. Oh, that reminds me—Heath has new pamphlets again. I’ll pick those up before work tomorrow.”
“I can get them,” Vi began.
But he was already shaking his head. “I’ll be in the bakery tomorrow to pick up our coffees anyway. I can grab them.”
“Fine,” Vi said. “But I want to do both quiz days next week. They’re book themed.”
“You got it.” Nick pressed a kiss to her helmet. “Let’s go home, Violet.”
She gunned it.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, they curled up together on their bed. The lamp was on, Vi’s head resting on Nick’s green chest. Her hair spilled out over her shoulders. Nick had undone her ribbon, just as he’d done every night since the letter.
Nick settled back against the pillows. “Comfy?”
Vi nodded.
“Cool. Let’s rock this shit.” Nick reached over to the bedside table and picked up a book. They’d started a new one after finishing the book club pick the night before.
Nick cleared his throat, loud and dramatic, as he did every time before he began. Vi smiled against his chest. In the morning, he’d tie her hair up. Tomorrow night, they’d be right back here, Vi’s head pillowed against his chest, feeling his chest rise and fall.
Nick started: “I have been waiting for you forever, she thought, as the man walked into her shop on that fateful autumn day . . .”
Vi closed her eyes and let his words wash over her.
* * * * *