Epilogue
THEA
FIVE YEARS LATER
Owen’s warm breath gusts over my neck. “Do you know how much I need you, sweetheart? How desperate I am for you?”
I settle back into his arms. “I love it when you beg.”
He chuckles, running his lips down my neck. “You know I’d make it good for you.”
A screeching wail makes us jump apart, and we spot Camila at the entrance to the restaurant with her eyes narrowed on Owen. “Get your sneaky, poaching ass out of my restaurant. You can’t have her.”
Camila and Mira’s four-year-old, Riya, comes flying toward me, throwing herself into my arms with complete abandon, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that I’ll catch her. I’ll never get over how freely this little girl’s trust is given.
She presses her forehead to mine. “Mama said a bad word.”
“I heard,” I whisper back.
Riya beams up at me. “Hi, tía Tia,” she says, and the two of us dissolve into giggles.
My heart almost exploded the first time Riya called me Tia, the only other person besides Addy who calls me that.
And when she got older and realized my nickname is Spanish for “aunt,” she started calling me tía Tia, laughing so hard each time she said it that her little body collapsed under the weight of her joy.
Owen lifts his hands, walking around the podium for his standoff with Camila, who’s still glaring at him like he’s public enemy number one. “So you no longer believe Thea should know all her options?”
She points an aggressive finger in my direction. “She’s my employee.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “She’s my wife.”
It’s been four years, but him saying those words still sets off a round of butterflies inside me.
“You can’t take her,” Camila growls.
“You can’t stop me,” he says, leaning against the hostess stand, all casual confidence.
When Owen started his bakery up here, it was a grab-and-go place. Mostly cupcakes and pastries. He did a lot of custom orders—wedding cakes and special events sent his way by Dawn—but there was no need for anything beyond a couple picnic tables out front.
News spread about his breakfast pastries, especially his incredible cinnamon muffins that half the town would gut each other over, and people started begging for a place to eat and enjoy a cup of coffee.
A few weeks ago, he closed on a new location that includes a café space, and Camila became convinced he’s going to steal me away to run it.
I’d never leave our restaurant, and Owen knows that.
I’ve built something special here. Camila and I started a monthly town dinner to bring people back up the mountain, where we set up massive communal tables so everyone can get together and gossip about Elk Ridge life.
I’ve partnered with the vineyard on wine-pairing dinners that guests and townsfolk alike love.
The restaurant is flourishing, and I’d never leave my baby.
But Owen can never pass up an opportunity to fuck with Cami.
I lift Riya up on my shoulders, stepping between the two of them. “Camila, please don’t murder my husband. And Owen, please stop riling up my boss. You know I won’t leave.”
“Oh, I will kill him, becau—” Camila cuts off as she processes my words. “Wait, you aren’t considering going with him?”
I set Riya down, and she immediately jumps into Owen’s arms instead.
I face Camila, planting my hands on my hips. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
“But last night, Owen said…” she trails off, narrowing her eyes on him. “You’re such a liar.”
She chases him out of the restaurant, and I hear his laugh echoing through the inn. I love how carefree he’s become since moving here. By the time I make it to the lobby, Owen’s standing near the front desk, holding a giggling Riya between him and Camila like a shield.
Camila snatches her daughter out of his arms and places her back on the ground. “I still don’t trust you. You’re lucky I don’t kick you out.”
“He’s here to meet Harrison and Addy,” I say, and Camila twirls to face me.
“The babies? I thought they weren’t coming until tomorrow!” Camila screams and, as if on cue, a matching scream floats in through the open front door.
Addy and Harrison’s oldest, Jackson, sprints in, tackling Riya in a giant hug. With only seven months between them, they’ve always been close. One of them demands a video call every other day, which is mostly just them pointing the camera directly up their noses and not speaking.
Addy comes in, corralling their sweet three-year-old and toddling two-year-old. Camila does her best Jackson impression and half tackles Addy in a hug, whose booming laugh turns into that perfect, ridiculous snort.
My heart swells, seeing the genuine love between them—how comfortable Addy’s become with all the Ellises in the past half decade—but I’m only so patient. I yank Camila off her. “Give me my sister, you hog.”
I wrap my arms around her and she squeezes back, so tight I don’t think either of us can breathe properly. “I’ve missed you, Tia.”
“Me too.”
We break the hug when Harrison stumbles through the front door, one eight-month-old twin strapped to his chest while the other is strapped to his back, and he and Addy give each other tired smiles.
“Remind us never to drive up with this many kids again,” Addy says, popping a quick kiss to my cheek before walking over to wrangle one of the twins out of the carrier.
Harrison sighs. “I’m not coming to the next wedding.”
Addy nudges him. “Liar.”
He smiles down at her, somehow still as in love as he was before having five kids in as many years.
“Where’s Mom?” Owen asks, looking over Harrison’s shoulder at the door.
Our relationship with Diana is still complicated.
She started seeing a therapist after she got back to Florida, and things have gotten consistently better, but Owen still struggles with opening up to her.
He started seeing someone himself a couple of years ago to unpack his resentment, but there’s a long way to go to total forgiveness.
The distance has helped. She doesn’t see enough of our life here to interfere.
Whatever else I can say about Diana, she’s an extremely engaged grandmother, and the babies have healed something between her and Addy, too.
We get pictures of them every few weeks—covered in sand at the beach or beaming through the sweat and exhaustion at Disney with five little kids.
Every time Diana’s and Addy’s faces are pushed together, the smile that was just mine for decades is always on Addy’s face. Now, she gives it to the whole world.
Harrison and Addy share a conspiratorial glance. “She decided to fly, so she won’t be here until tomorrow,” she says.
“Apparently, ten-plus hours in the car with them is the official limit of the love for her grandchildren.”
Dammit, Owen and I were counting on her being grandchildren-ed out by the time she got up here.
When the time came to decide what future we wanted, we both agreed we wanted to stay kid-free.
After a life looking after our siblings, we wanted the chance to be a bit selfish, which is exactly what Diana called us when we told her.
It was the one major backslide we’ve experienced in the past five years.
Owen was pissed. So pissed he considered cutting her off.
He said this was the most intense thing she could meddle on.
A job you could quit, but kids were for life.
I could see where he was coming from, but she’d been doing so much better.
I didn’t think we should cut her off because of one conversation.
When I reminded him none of us are just one moment, all the tension in his body evaporated. His smile was so soft when he kissed me. “None of us deserve you, Thea Hayes.”
Here’s hoping that we don’t have a repeat of that fight.
The door of the inn swings open again, and Gabriel bounds in with his never-ending energy.
“The party is here, people!” he calls out. “Lynne and her fiancé are already at the pickleball courts, so we need to get over there to warm up. I don’t care if she’s the bride, none of us want to deal with an insufferable Lynne if she wins. Better move those car seats over!”
Harrison and Addy distribute their twelve thousand kids between us so they can take care of it.
More and more cousins show up, filling the lobby with as much love as noise.
I still can’t believe this is my family, that not only Owen but the rest of them have welcomed me and Addy into their lives so wholeheartedly.
Owen makes his rounds, catching up on the latest in everyone’s lives before making his way back to me. He takes the twins that I have anchored on either hip, giving me a soft kiss on my forehead.
“I left you a surprise in your purse,” he says. “Go find the brown paper bag.”
I moan. “Owen Hayes, did you save me a cinnamon muffin?”
He winks. “I don’t know. Why don’t you go check?”
I run to the restaurant to grab my things, digging in my giant purse while heading back to the lobby. But instead of a fluffy, delicious muffin, my hand closes over something cold and hard.
Owen’s watching with delight when I pull the bright yellow key chain out of my bag.
“What the fuck, Owen? We’re supposed to be a team!”
Riya’s eyes go wide. “That’s a bad bad word, tía Tia!”
“You’re right, RiRi. I’m sorry,” I say, then turn my ire on my dear, loving husband.
He scrambles toward the door. “Gotta get these kids back to their parents.”
“Yeah, you better run!” I yell after him while all the cousins laugh and holler at my expense.
“Oh hey, Thea?” he calls from the front door, and I twirl back to him, eyes narrowed.
“What do you want?”
His giant smile softens, and even though I have plans for payback, everything inside me goes a little bit gooey. “I love you.”
And just like every time he’s said it for the past five years, I believe him.