Epilogue Haven
Epilogue
Haven
The wedding is in my family’s orchard. It’s beautiful and intimate, just family and friends.
The whole town is invited to the party afterwards, but I’m glad there aren’t too many people here to see this, because as I walk up the aisle between the apple trees with my brother, Layne, I can’t stop crying.
Seeing Mason getting married kind of unglues me, mostly because I know how much Mom and Dad would’ve wanted to be here for this. I was only eleven when it happened, but I remember my brother’s first wedding, the one where his bride ran out.
Mason was so distraught that day, Mom and Dad cried; it was the only time I ever remember my dad crying in front of me.
Today, they would’ve been so happy. To see how happy Mason is as he and Sierra say their vows, exchange rings, and become husband and wife. Because this is obviously how it was meant to be for Mason. The way he looks at Sierra says it all. Their love is palpable.
Even Grandpa has a tear in his eye.
It feels good, like the family is growing again, instead of falling apart.
The last time we were all together like this was for Mom and Dad’s funeral. I barely remember it, I was so deep in grief.
After the ceremony, when I give Mason a hug, he tells me how glad he is that I’m here. “Feels more like home” is how he puts it.
“This is always home,” I say, because as much as I might try to deny it to myself, it’s the truth. Nothing will ever feel like home the way Orchard Cove does.
But my brother surprises me. He gets this serious look on his face and says, “It hasn’t felt like it in a long time. But with Sierra here, it feels more like home than ever.” He gives me a meaningful look. “And your room’s always ready for you, Haven.”
I know he wants me to come home for good. Move back. Settle down. Play my part in the family business.
He even kept my childhood bedroom intact in the renovations, just like our parents did.
But I’m not ready for that. Not yet.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that. But how can I tell my big brother on his wedding day that I might never come back to Orchard Cove? Worst wedding gift ever.
“You guys did a great job with the house,” I deflect. I know Sierra helped him with decorating after the renos, and they did a gorgeous job together. “Mom would love it.”
Then we get mercifully interrupted as the whole wedding party is herded deeper into the orchard for photos. I pose dutifully with my bouquet and a smile alongside the other bridesmaids. And the moment we’re done, I beeline back to the other guests while the bride and groom are photographed alone.
I need to check in on my plus-one. My boyfriend, Bryce, is a lot to manage, and he doesn’t do well in situations like this. Situations where he’s not in control.
However, he seems to be okay at the moment. Grandpa has him cornered, cider in hand, and while my first impulse is to rescue him so he’s not pissed about it later—at me—I’m kind of emotionally tapped out right now.
I thought bringing Bryce here would make it better—like having a security blanket, a buffer between me and my old life. Instead, it’s just made the whole thing even more stressful.
Caterers circle, offering champagne and cider, but I could really use something stronger.
Some of the guests have already started to make their way down to the beach walk, which has been decorated with flowers all the way to the pier.
Dinner and dancing will be at Pier Seven tonight, but I’m not ready for more mingling just yet.
When no one’s looking, I sneak away to the cider house, seeking a moment alone and a stiff drink.
But when I slip inside, I’m not alone.
There’s a man behind the bar, plucking a bottle of Sea Haven’s award-winning violet gin from a shelf.
A man I’ve known forever, but have tried so hard to forget.
Jace Crofton.
My brother’s best friend.
He’s dressed in a fine navy-blue suit and sage-green tie instead of his usual motorcycle jacket and jeans, his normally shadowed jawline shaved clean, and his thick dark hair is neatly tamed into place. He looks different, but the same.
It’s always the same, every time I see him, the way my heart pounds and my insides generally freak out.
I consider backing right out of there.
But too late.
He sees me, and a charming smile transforms his features, taking them from handsome to Dear god, please help me.
“Haven,” he says in that rough, sexy voice I hear sometimes in my dreams. I mean, my nightmares. “Get your ass in here, girl.”
Ugh. Shivers. I get full-body shivers when he says my name.
This was not supposed to happen. Ending up alone with Jace is never a good idea.
Running into Jace in public is uncomfortable enough. I said a quick hello to him yesterday at the rehearsal dinner to get it over with and managed to painstakingly avoid him for the rest of the night, and again all day today, even though we’re both in the wedding party.
I wasn’t supposed to have to talk to him again, if at all, until maybe tonight, if I run into him at the reception and have to make nice in front of others. Maybe then I’ll at least be drunk.
What the hell am I supposed to say to him sober?
“Caught stealing, huh?” I let the door close behind me. “I guess some things never change.”
He kind of snorts, surprised. “Pretty sure Mason won’t have me locked up. Tommy, maybe.”
I let a small smile slip. “Oh, if Grandpa finds you in here, you’re dead.”
“Then let’s not tell him.”
The conspiratorial look he gives me makes my toes curl.
He sets the bottle of gin on the bar. “How about you?”
“I won’t call the cops. Too much effort.”
“I meant, do you want a drink.” He says it like it’s a given, placing two shot glasses next to the gin.
I sigh. “Yeah. Guilty.”
He smiles like I’ve just made his day.
Please don’t do that. It makes me weak.
His dark eyes roam over me as I approach the bar in my sage-green bridesmaid’s dress, and I wonder what he sees.
I thought I’d be so different by the time I saw him again.
But every time we run into each other, no matter how much time has passed, I still feel like the same teenage girl who left this place all those years ago.
Yeah. Some things never fucking change.
He pours out two violet-hued shots. “How’s life in Seattle?”
“Oh, it’s amazing.”
Yeah. Totally happy.
“Must be. Haven’t seen you around here in years.”
And there it is. The guilt that hits whenever someone back home reminds me that I’ve been missed. They all do it.
But when Jace does it, it both aches and pisses me off the most.
“Yeah, well. I’ve been busy.”
Mostly, I’ve been busy keeping away from Orchard Cove. It’s kind of exhausting as far as lifestyles go.
Other than attending my parents’ funeral last year in Vancouver, I haven’t been back to the West Coast of Canada much at all in the last seven years. I didn’t know when I left that I’d be gone permanently, but it just kind of became a thing.
I also didn’t know that I’d long for this place like I do.
Or . . . for certain people.
It’s just made me avoid them all the harder.
He picks up a shot, and I do the same.
“To Mason and Sierra,” I say, before he can say anything. We clink our shots together, then drink.
“Who’s that boy you’re with?”
I cough slightly on my gin. “Uh, you mean that man?”
He just raises an eyebrow.
“That’s Bryce.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“No. He’s a rent-a-date. I have to return him by midnight or his rate doubles.”
Jace laughs. That throaty, full-body laugh that scorches my insides. God, the rush of it. I probably couldn’t be more turned on if he stroked my clit with his tongue.
“And why would you need to show up to your brother’s wedding with an escort?” he inquires, playing along.
“Crowd control. A hot man on a lady’s arm really keeps the wolves away.”
“You really could’ve gotten better for your money,” he says.
My face feels warm, and so does my belly as he pours us another shot.
“You think?” I can’t help playing along myself.
He raises his shot glass, his eyes flashing at me. This close, they’re a molten brown, like liquid fire. “To you, Haven.” We clink our glasses. “I’d protect you from the wolves for free.”
Oh, shit. He did not just say that. And I did not like it. A lot.
We toss our shots back, and he casually licks his lip. My core contracts, way too hyperaware of his every move.
Okay, nope. Not going there.
Not getting carried away with what this isn’t.
I focus on his hands, which doesn’t help. He’s already pouring us more shots, and this is getting out of hand. Me. I’m getting out of hand.
My body.
My imagination . . .
“Uh, I should really go. Bryce may need rescuing. You know how my grandpa can be.”
“Oh, I know.” His expression grows serious. “But if your date can’t handle Tommy, he’s not getting far around here.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. I realize that.”
“Then why did you bring him?”
“Well, I’m not from around here. So it hardly matters.”
He stares me down for an uncomfortably long moment. But this is my family’s property, not his. He doesn’t get to make me squirm here.
But damn, I am squirming.
My insides writhe with discomfort. Anxious. Fucking eager.
Hungry for his attention.
“You, Haven Grant, will always be from around here. Incidentally . . .” He slides a shot in front of me, the tattoos on his hand sexy, distracting. “When are you moving back?”
“Does ‘never’ sound too soon?” Still trying to play it cool. You can handle this, the alcohol tells me. You can handle him.
He holds my gaze. “Not soon enough.”
“Way too soon, if you ask me.”
Something falters in his playful, calculated veneer of charm. His eyes soften, and it sucks the breath out of me. “Mason will be disappointed to hear that.”
That’s putting it mildly, and we both know it.
“Which is why you won’t tell him.”
His eyes spark, a kind of devious delight he can’t even hide. The man is a born flirt, a player, a mischief-maker. “More secrets, huh? How many do you expect me to keep for you?”
“If you’re referring to that time you caught me sneaking home late—”
“Ha. Which time?”
“All of them. And yes, you better keep them all.”
He lifts his shot of gin. “To keeping secrets, then.”
After a moment’s hesitation, I pick up my shot. We clink our glasses. The gleam in his eyes is wicked.
I know this is a mistake.
But where Jace Crofton is concerned, I’ve already made so many.
“To keeping secrets,” I agree, and together, we drink.