Epilogue #2
I snort out a laugh. That sounds exactly like something Nash would say.
A text from Julian that came in three hours ago waits for me when I lift my phone. I have a habit of getting lost in what I’m doing while I’m out here. The late afternoons are when Tommy comes out and helps me solve any issues or to experiment with things that Stevie and Jo glazed over about.
JULIAN
I’ll meet you at the distillery around 7 tonight. Don’t go home without me. Love you.
I smile. Home. I love the life we’re building.
Home is just a short walk down the hill.
We drove out to Oregon shortly after I put in my resignation to the university.
I packed up my office, and that same night, we got in his Bronco and drove out to the Northern Pacific Coast, packed up his rather expansive studio space, and put his oceanside place up for rent.
I’m not sure how much time passes when I look up from work again.
I stretch my neck and squeeze my eyes shut, listening to Stevie’s latest podcast episode finish and glancing at my phone.
It’s nearly seven, and I got lost in work.
It’s become our habit—work a bit late, make dinner together, and then either spend time out here or at Julian’s studio.
We both care about what the other does, what we want to accomplish.
Some nights, it’ll be relaxing on the chair together and listening to music, or grabbing dinner with my sisters, but Julian doesn’t just fit into my life; he helped shape it.
A paper airplane lands next to me on the bench, making me smile.
He’s here just like he said he would be.
When I pick it up and turn it in my hand, I realize this clean, pointed fold wasn’t a quick one.
It took some time. I turn around and find him standing against the sliding doors, feet crossed at his ankles and hands in his pockets.
“I have something to show you,” he says with a smile. He cuffs a piece of his hair behind his ear and meets me halfway to the door with a kiss.
“Is it a slice of cake? I haven’t eaten anything since lunch.”
He slides the door open and the cool air hits me.
A reminder that while technically the winter solstice already happened, the weather in Rumor is on a delay.
It won’t get cold enough for me to consider it winter until we’re well into February.
He brushes his fingers against my palm and intertwines them as he says, “I’ll get you a slice of cake.
Your mother dropped something off in the refrigerator earlier.
I still don’t understand how she gets in the house to do it?—”
“Do you really think a door code, or even a lock with a key, will keep her from where she wants to be?”
“Fair point,” he concedes with a chuckle.
“She has guidelines. No entering between the hours of nine p.m. to nine a.m. It was my stipulation when I first decided to live so close to her and Birdie.”
He squeezes my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the top of it.
“Wait, you already stopped home?—?”
But he doesn’t answer, just looks ahead of where we’re walking, and with a tilt of his chin up, I follow his gaze.
My chest warms as my hand comes to my mouth as I try to work through what I’m seeing in front of me. Dozens of strands of white lights are strung up around the garden space. From one end to the other and all along each raised garden bed he’s been building.
It looks like a version of Birdie’s garden.
I snap my eyes back to him, tears welling. “What?” I let out a laugh. “When did you do this?”
He shrugs as we walk closer. “Found time for it when you were busy. Most of the lights, though, I did today. Tommy helped keep you occupied for me.”
My chest warms at that. We walk through the arched trellis wrapped in small lights, and I take in the details that are spread out around me.
All along the center walkway that’s been redone and, apparently properly this time, with uplighting that shines from the newly installed pavers.
I knew he was working on making this more manageable for the springtime, but I didn’t realize he was doing all of this.
Blooms are limited this time of year, with only a few plants of witch hazel, winter jasmine, and purple kale.
The walkway has at least a half dozen oversize cement pots filled with rosemary bushes.
It’s faint, and even with all of the rest of my senses being filled, I still catch the calming scent of it.
The makeshift fence that outlines the space has arborvitae trees planted and decorated with larger patio bulbs.
He knows how much I loved Birdie’s garden and how terrible I’ve been at doing this on my own.
This is so far beyond what I could have ever done myself.
It’s like he took the dream right out of my head and made it a reality.
Along the walkway and landing leading into the house are glass garden balls that look like lit bubbles, and just to the left is the outdoor fireplace that he’s been working on. Stacked with wood along each side, the center is lit and roaring.
“There’s plenty of space to plant what you’d like in the spring. I only added in a few things that Birdie mentioned you liked and wouldn’t die this time of year.”
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, feeling breathless. I give him a teasing and leveled look. “Are you trying to romance me, Julian Colton?”
He steps closer and kisses my forehead. “Something like that,” he says as he walks past me and up the stairs.
I laugh, remembering the last time I said that to him. Shaking my head, I bat away the few tears that have fallen. I’m overwhelmed in the best way possible. This isn’t just a gesture, this is time, and he listened.
With his hand on the door, he smiles at me, letting the quiet evening linger. Or maybe he’s taking in the moment too. He does that often, lets the quiet linger and just watches. He’s an observer, taking in the bigger picture before focusing on the details.
“You told me once that when you were young you didn’t think about having the usual things like a big house or a husband, but you did want a garden . . .” He nods to the garden he built around me. “And a dog…”
I stop moving for a moment. He didn’t.
But when he twists the handle to open the back door to our place, out comes a caramel-brown puppy.
The ball of fluff barely makes it through the threshold before he tumbles out the door, skipping the first two steps and running right to me.
My eyes are so blurred with tears, I can barely see as I pick him up under my arm and pet his warm white furred belly.
I couldn’t guess what breed or how big he’ll be, but I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited in my entire life.
“Oh my goodness, hello.”
When I look back up, Julian says, “You read my palm once. Told me that I would have one great love of my life. I don't think either of us would have thought at that moment that it would be you.”
The puppy squirms in my arms and tries to lick anything he can get near, but I can’t take my eyes off Julian as he steps closer.
“Julian, what are you . . .?” I shake my head when he crouches down in front of me, getting on both knees.
“I love you. That’s the one thing I know and can guarantee won’t change,” Julian says with emotion coating his words.
“You’re it for me, Crowne. I don’t need more time to know that I want to spend as much of it as I can with you.
” His hands run up behind my thighs as I look down into his hazel eyes, knowing everything he’s saying is as honest as it gets.
“This question, and request, is selfishly for me.”
I let out a shaky breath, wanting more than anything to hear it.
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the most beautiful emerald ring. The band is so thin that it makes the size of the emerald look even larger than it already is. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that this is the stone he told me about.
“Will you marry me, Wyn?” he asks in his deep and confident voice. It only wavers when he adds, “You’re my family, my partner, and I’d like to be called your husband. I can see all of this life with you.”
I try to take a breath, my chest so heavy with emotions, and my heart so damn full. It’s more than what I’ve allowed myself to want. I look at the garden he’s built for me, the way he’s shown up, protected, cared for, and loved me so fully . . .
The puppy makes a yawning sound and lets out a bark, making both of us laugh.
Tears fall as I look at the man on his knees in front of me. I swipe my thumb along his cheek, just above the scruff of his beard. His eyes close at my touch.
“Crowne, I swear the way you make me work for it,” he says teasingly as his lips tilt into a smirk. “What do you say, do this with me, walk down an aisle, make some promises, live happily ever after?”
Smiling, I take in a breath, and on the exhale, remember to be brave.
“Show me.”
The End
Thank you for reading Rumors & Whiskey!
If you loved the romance and suspense of Wyn & Julian’s story, then get ready for the youngest Crowne sister. Jo’s story is next in Scandals & Whiskey!