Epilogue.
Rhett
Five months later…
I’ve had the ring for three weeks now.
It’s not flashy. I thought about flashy.
She’s from a world of diamonds the size of doorknobs, but Callie assured me that’s not something she wants, and to go with my gut.
So I got her something simple, vintage. An old rose-cut stone on a gold band with intricate designs.
When I first saw it, it reminded me of the house. Of us, in a way.
I’ve been carrying it around waiting for the right moment, which is stupid, because with Shea, every moment’s the right moment. And yet, I keep talking myself out of it. Too soon. Too many people. Not here.
But right now she’s standing in the middle of the Hargrove place—her place now—with a moving box on her hip and her wild curls escaping a claw clip, directing me where to put a lamp, and I have never in my life been more sure of anything.
“No, not there, that corner gets the morning light, I want the reading chair there.” She points. “Lamp goes by the window.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t yes ma’am me, you’re enjoying this.”
“I am,” I admit, setting the lamp down. “Bossy looks good on you.”
She rolls her eyes, but smiles.
The house has come a long way since the night we met.
The floors we saved gleam a stunning honey-gold in the afternoon light.
The fireplace is finished, the kitchen partition’s long gone, and the whole place breathes the way she always swore it would if we just listened to it. It’s a home now. Her home.
Funny how that worked out.
The little craftsman I bought, we fixed up over the winter and Shea decided to film the progress for YouTube.
Needless to say, her little ‘show’ has turned into more of a house-restoration-sensation online with over three million subscribers watching.
Big TV stations have reached out to her, but she seems to like the control she has over doing it on her terms. And with Tyler being her co-producer, he’s been taking editing and film courses with a bright as hell future ahead of him.
Even though we sold the small craftsman, after months, Shea still couldn’t bring herself to let the Hargrove place go. So she didn’t. Sold her condo in LA instead and when she has to fly out for stylist gigs and shoots, she just books a hotel.
She lives here now in Whitetail; in this house we restored together. Though she’s been with me most nights, neither of us have talked about it.
“Okay.” Shea drops the box she’s holding onto the new couch and blows a curl out of her face, surveying the organized chaos of half-unpacked boxes.
“That’s the last of the big stuff. I think.
” She turns to me, and there’s something a little nervous flickering behind her eyes, something she’s working up to. “So, I’ve been thinking…”
“That’s dangerous,” I tease, moving another box labeled KITCHEN to the right room.
“Shush.” She smiles, wiping her hands on her jeans.
“I wanted to, um, ask you… It’s just…you’re going to be here all the time anyway.
You’ve got a toothbrush in the bathroom and I even saved some room in the closet for you—which was very hard for me and—” She’s talking faster now, that way she does when she’s nervous.
“And I hate sleeping without you. So, I was thinking, maybe, you could just…not go home? Ever? And move in with me. Here.” She winces.
“Was that too much? That felt like too much…”
She’s asking me to stay?
I could laugh, and I almost do. Because I’ve had a ring in my pocket waiting for the perfect moment, and she’s just gone and beaten me to it. She’s always a step ahead. She may think she’s too much, but I think she’s exactly enough.
“Shea,” I say.
“You can say no.” She waves a hand wildly between us. “It’s fine. We can make a schedule and—”
“Baby,” I groan, stopping her short. “I’ve got a better idea.”
Her brow furrows, confused. “A better idea than living together?”
“Yeah.” My heart’s going like a jackhammer, but my hands are steady when I reach into my jacket draped over the couch. “I’ve been carrying this around for weeks trying to figure out when and where.” I shake my head, grinning like a fool.
Her eyes go wide as I drop down on one knee in front of her. “Rhett,” she gasps. I open the box and her hands fly to her mouth.
“From the moment I met you, I knew you would turn my whole life upside down. Because of you, I haven’t had a single lonely day,” I say, my throat tight.
“I don’t want to just move in together, baby.
I want you to marry me. I want the house, the kids, and the white picket fence with you.
I want to build a life, start to finish, from the ground up.
So, Shea Renee Winton, will you do me the honor… Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” she sobs, nodding frantically. “Yes, Rhett, of course, I’ll marry you!”
I’m barely on my feet before she launches into me, and I catch her. I get the ring on her finger with shaking hands and kiss her in the middle of a house neither of us wanted to let go of. She’s laughing and crying against my mouth saying yes yes yes like she can’t stop.
“I love you,” I whisper into her hair, holding her tight.
She lifts her head from my chest, her watery brown eyes finding mine. “I love you more.”
I grin. “Not possible.”
From the doorway, we hear, “Oh, gross, are you crying?” Tyler, arms full of takeout bags, takes in the scene. His gaze drops to Shea’s hand. “Wait. Holy sh— Did he— Are you…?”
“We’re getting married!” Shea sob-laughs, bouncing in my arms.
Tyler stares, then sets down the bags. And the too-cool, stepbrother-in-law-to-be crosses the room and hugs us both at once, hard. He mumbles into our shoulders, “Finally. Took y’all long enough.”
And I stand there, in our home, my arms full of the woman I love and the kid who’s already family. I think about the man I was seven months ago, telling myself I didn’t need this, that I didn’t need anyone.
Turns out I was wrong.
I just had to wait for a California girl to flood her bathroom.
The End.
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Ready for more Montgomery brothers? Keep reading for a sneak peak of Levi’s story in Book Five: Kept by You.
XO,
A. Boss