Epilogue
Betting debts are debts of honor!
Tips and tricks for every situation from divorce lawyer Connor Stone
Rachel, did you write in my notebook?! - Connor
Ishouldn’t be sitting on the floor in a suit.”
“I told you I could do it, Connor!”
He glanced over his shoulder at Rachel’s stubborn face. “And I told you, if someone had to spoil our beautiful office door, I’d do it,” he growled.
Rachel bit her lip — and, God, she looked gleeful. What was wrong with him if he thought it was cute?
How he loved this woman. It was the eighth wonder of the world, according to his sister Mallory, who had announced a visit.
“Make sure to hang it straight,” Rachel said innocently. “So everyone can clearly see that you wholeheartedly recommend Match Me! because it brought you the love of your life.”
He sighed heavily, but really couldn’t disagree.
“Man, the red on your white door looks really good,” Maddie remarked, who naturally hadn’t missed the opportunity to witness this monumental moment in person.
“Doesn’t it?” Hailey said enthusiastically. “It has flair.”
“You didn’t have to paint it white, Connor!” Cian accused him, standing nearby with his arms crossed and glaring at Hailey for her euphoria. “That wasn’t part of your stupid bet.”
“It was a favor,” Rachel explained.
“Which you paid for with spontaneous sex, right?”
Yep. Twice. Connor considered it a fair trade.
“I don’t understand why Rachel won anyway! You both found love.”
“But Connor didn’t find it with his methods and with me, Match Me! was at least involved!” Rachel corrected while Connor hammered the last nail into the door, finally hanging the sign.
He straightened up and brushed the dust off his suit trousers. “Happy?” he asked grimly.
Rachel slid under his arm and wrapped her arm around his waist before looking up at him with a broad grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” she whispered, gently kissing his chin.
He smiled, and let the warmth of her gaze, touch, and words flow through his body like the sunlight over Sunshine Pier.
God, he’d put up a hundred signs for her, but he preferred to keep that to himself.
“Ditto,” he muttered, and maybe he would have even kissed her really, really romantically on the tip of the nose – because, obviously, romance was his thing now – if Cian hadn’t snapped, “Hey! You can be cute with each other on your own time. You owe me a damn drink.”
“Why is that?” Hailey asked, confused.
“Because I wasn’t part of that bet, and I have to suffer anyway,” he stated, stomping past them toward the Sunny Umbrella.
“He’s a sore loser, isn’t he?” Hailey whispered, loud enough for everyone within a hundred-yard radius to hear.
Connor grinned and absentmindedly stroked the back of Rachel’s neck. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He practically told me to fall in love.”
“I think he just wants us to be in love quieter,” Rachel stated.
“Ah…well, we don’t always get what we want,” he said, unfazed, looking at Rachel.
Not always. But sometimes. When it counted.
THE END
Thank you so much for reading The (Hate) Love Bet!