Epilogue
INDY
Six Months Later
My phone alerts me to a text message. I glance down at it and see who it is. Plus, it gives me a break from overanalyzing everything on my to-do list for tonight’s event.
Jett: Landed. Tell your city to behave.
I laugh. She never arrives quietly; she takes it by storm and makes her presence known.
Me: You’d have to behave first.
She doesn’t respond after that, so I get back into checking things off my list for the second time.
Toren and I have settled into a routine.
He still doesn’t like me working for Miranda, and neither do I.
It’s a paradox that I intend to fix once tonight’s gallery event is over.
Actually, once every last piece of art is sold.
I’ve worked too hard, dealt with too much, and I don’t trust Miranda enough to see things through.
I’d like to say things have gotten better, that our working relationship has improved, but that would be a lie.
The doorbell buzzes a few minutes later, interrupting me again.
I move from my place at the kitchen island and head for the door.
I don’t bother asking who’s on the other side; the glass door tells me as soon as I round the corner.
Jett with her sunglasses on, big smile in place, like she’s waiting for her grand entrance.
“You could have called for a ride from the airport, you know?” I say by way of greeting.
“Why? I’m not adding more to your plate.” She walks in, missing an important part of her usual arsenal.
“Missed you,” I tell her when she wraps her arms around my shoulders. We’ve gotten closer through the months. She’ll come up here for a weekend or Toren and I will go to Florida for a quick getaway trip.
“Missed you, too,” she replies.
“Now, where the hell is your bag?” I ask. She always stays with us for at least a day or two.
“At my hotel. It’s right across the street from the gallery.
I’ve got so much shit, and this way, once the main part of the event is over, I can have some young hot stud help me carry it back to the hotel instead of worrying about it getting knocked around at the gallery.
” Jett makes a great point. I close the door behind us, and she gravitates toward the couch, flopping down and letting out a puff of air.
“Well, that kind of sucks, but I get it.” I sit down in the chair across from her.
Toren isn’t here yet. He’s busy watching over the movers put everything in place, and while I should probably be there with him, he told me to sit my ass down and take a break, an impossible feat given the event is in less than five hours. “Are you at least meeting us there?”
“Pshh, I have my own grand appearance to make,” she jokes.
“Actually, I’ll probably get there before you.
I want to video Toren’s arrival and do the same with his artwork.
” We’ve kept Toren’s identity away from everyone except our friends and family.
And Miranda definitely wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag after the investment into Toren’s career.
Plus, the press will be there tonight, and I’m already feeling my nerves take root.
I don’t know how Toren is handling this.
I feel guilty at times that maybe I persuaded him into doing this as it is, even though he reassures me if it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t have found one another.
“I need a drink.”
“After the event, we’re all going out. Sable found a place big enough to include everyone without being on top of each other.
And Nellie, as much as she wanted to come, Colt put his foot down and made this a grown-ups’ trip only.
” Jett stands up. “I better go get ready. I’ve got a few posts to schedule. I’ll see you later.”
“Text me if anything explodes between now and then.” Worry hits my nervous system all over again.
“Everything is going to go off without a hitch. I’ll send your man home to you, and you know what, I’m stopping the conversation there before I gross myself out.
” We both laugh. If Toren were here, he’d have a field day with her way of thinking.
As for me, I’m thinking the minute my man gets home, my main goal is going to be getting him naked.
--
The gallery is full, not just full—it’s alive. Seattle showed up and showed out. Familiar faces, new ones, and people buzzing through the space, oohing and aahing. I stand off to the side, taking it all in, trying not to let the weight of it settle deep in my chest.
“You did this.” Toren comes up beside me, hand going to my lower back, and presses a kiss to the side of my head.
“You’re giving me way too much credit, because you did this,” I reply back.
“Not without you.” His mouth curves. There’s something quiet behind his yes.
Our friends are off in the distance. I had to lay down the law on them, telling them they couldn’t purchase all of the artwork before it was open to the public.
If there were leftovers, they had free rein, except I think we’re at ninety percent sold and the doors have only been open for an hour.
“Toren.” His hands come up, framing my face, and then he’s kissing me. Right here, in the middle of chaos. I gasp, gripping his firm chest as the world tilts.
“I’ll never get use to the way you say my name, cherry.” He pulls back, lips wet from our mouths taking one another’s.
“What are you doing?” I ask, when he drops to one knee. The room goes quiet, or maybe it does because my sole focus is on him.
“I had a speech, a good one, but you know as well as me that I’m a man of action,” he says with a hint of a rasp to his tone.
My throat tightens, my eyes water, and my breathing quickens.
“I don’t make anything that matters without thinking about you.
Every piece of art in this room, you’re in it.
Even if it’s not meant for you.” My vision starts to blur.
“Indy, will you marry me?” He pulls out a ring.
I’m not even sure what it looks like, nor do I care.
“Yes, of course.” The moment I sink to my knees, his arm bands around my back, pulling me in.
“I don’t want a life where you’re not in it. I want you, the good, the mess, the everything.” His words wreck me.
“Tor.” The room erupts around us when he slides the ring onto my finger before he’s kissing me like nothing else exists. This is real, this is forever, and I don’t ever want this to end.
“Alright, alright, no funny business in the gallery,” Colt says in a jovial tone.
“Hush, Colt. This is the sweetest thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Sable shushes him in a watery voice.
“Damn,” Toren says, “guess I should have thought about where I’d do this. We gotta deal with our friends now when all I want to do is be with you. Alone.” I laugh. While I’d love nothing more, it’s also nice to have our friends here with us.
“Later.” He gets us to our feet, keeping one possessive arm around my back, thumb sliding along my bare skin.
“You couldn’t give me a heads-up?” Jett greets us. “I would’ve prepared something, confetti or, you know, emotional support.”
“You’re a menace,” Toren replies.
“You love me, regardless.” She moves away, allowing others to merge in after giving us a hug. One after the other—Locke and Jade, Dean and Kara, and then Jace.
“Congratulations,” he says genuinely.
“Thanks, brother.” Toren grips his shoulder. They give each other a man hug.
“Men are so weird.” Willow kisses my cheek, wrapping an arm around me; her other is occupied with a glass of champagne.
“You’ve got that right.” We chat for a few more moments. I look down at my ring, loving the diamond oval engagement ring It’s elegant and classic, and I had not one single hand in picking it out.
“Tried to get Alex here in time. She texted and said her boss gave her some bullshit assignment at the last minute but to call her right away.” My eyes close.
This man knows me, truly, and it seems Alex and I both need to re-evaluate our working environment, because damn. This shit is getting to be too much.
“I love you.” My hand goes to his chest, my ring sparkling on my finger. His hand covers mine.
“I love you, cherry.”