Epilogue #2
And so very Sheet Cake. It definitely went in my notebook, which I’m still keeping. I didn’t necessarily think I’d be making a starring appearance, but I guess that means I’m officially a Sheeter.
The ceremony was short, sweet, and full of happy tears and a little bit of baby crying, since we apparently blew right through her morning naptime.
The rest of the day was joyous, filled with laughter and gifts and a few arguments, both on my side (John and Mason) and Tank’s (Pat and Collin).
Also, Pat apparently won some bet he had with James, revealing a ten-foot-tall sculpture sourced from the metal stakes that once held Wolf’s burned campaign signs.
Apparently, Pat learned to weld, likely motivated by winning this bet.
As for the stakes, apparently it was a winner’s choice.
Which means James will now be recording a 30-day series of motivational messages, scripted by a combination of Pat, Lindy, and Winnie.
The creativity of this family—especially when weaponized against each other—is unmatched.
Now, I can’t wait for the release of the James Graham Motivational Morning Messages.
Perhaps the best part of the day (wedding aside) was Harper and Chase’s gift. They handed Tank an envelope, which I think we all assumed would be a sonogram revealing their baby’s gender. Instead, it was a photograph.
“What am I looking at?” Tank asked, brow furrowed. When I leaned over to see, I recognized his old Austin house with Harper and Chase standing in front.
They grinned instead of answering, and after a moment, Tank’s jaw went slack. “Wait—but Thayden said an investor bought the place.”
“An investor did buy the place,” Chase said. “And if you remember, Thayden also assured you the investor said a family would be moving in.”
Harper grinned. “In case it’s not clear, we are the investor. So, while you might be disappointed we aren’t going to join everyone here, whenever anyone needs a place to stay in Austin …”
This announcement was met with hugs all around and more than a few tears.
Somehow, Harper and Chase had managed to keep that secret from the entire rest of the family, who were thrilled to know the house they grew up in—and maybe more importantly, had memories of their mom in—was staying in the family.
With some renovations, Harper told them quickly, but no one seemed to mind that.
After all the warm, wonderful, chaotic, and fun moments with our whole family and friends over the Christmas afternoon, Tank and I headed home. First, he took me to our future home: the falling-down farmhouse we’re still trying to decide what to do with.
“I need to carry you across this threshold first,” he told me, lifting me up in his arms. “Just in case we later decide to tear the whole thing down.”
Once inside, the house groaned in protest, and a bird flew out of the kitchen, so we left quickly and went to our current home: his loft downtown.
He carried me up the full flight of stairs, not one time complaining about it and barely out of breath when he reached the top.
“First things first,” he said, pausing outside the upstairs door to kiss me.
“I changed the combination to the keypad, so no more children bursting in to surprise us when we might be otherwise … occupied.”
“A great plan,” I told him, kissing a path down his neck. “Now, how about you take me inside, husband, and show me exactly what ‘otherwise occupied’ means.”
Now, I smile thinking of it, as another few flying fish zip over the water, and I’m about to call Tank again when I hear his voice.
“Rose? Can you come inside?”
A little reluctantly, I step out of the sun, only to see the bathroom door cracked open and Tank peeking out. “You might want to shut the door,” he says. “Or at least the curtains.”
“What are you up to, Theo?” I say with a laugh. “And it’s not like there’s anyone out in the middle of the ocean who will be looking through our open door.”
One corner of his mouth kicks up in a smile. “Still. You never know.” He doesn’t move, and so, with a sigh, I pull the sliding door and curtains closed.
“Done. Now are you going to tell me what’s got you needing to hide away from exactly nothing out there on the open seas?”
Tank’s bare arm snakes out of the bathroom and flips off the overhead light, leaving the room lit only by the little slice of sunlight from between the curtain and the wall.
This shifts the mood instantly, and my stomach swoops.
Because there’s a look in Tank’s eyes I’ve come to know very well over the last few days.
Only, now, there’s a hint of playfulness along with the desire. It makes my nerves ratchet up as I wait.
I am not very good at waiting.
“Theo,” I start to say, but then he steps out of the bathroom fully and I lose the ability to speak.
I’m torn between laughing and simply admiring as I stare at Tank, my gaze tracing a path from the top of his head down his neck to his mostly bare shoulders and arms—stopping at the lacy, frilled edge at the top of the pink floral apron he’s wearing.
With, it seems, nothing on underneath.
It ends high on his thighs, and from the front, I can see the jut of his hipbones.
“What do you think?” he asks, and there is the tiniest hint of self-consciousness in his eyes suddenly, as though he’s second-guessing whether this was a good idea or too much.
“I think,” I say slowly, sinking down onto the king-sized bed and leaning back on my elbows. “I might need you to turn around so I can see it from the back before I make a final decision.”
His grin is boyish, but with a little hint of feral. There’s a promise in that smile, and in the way his eyes sparkle as he does a slow turn.
“Well?” he asks, facing me again, hands on his hips. “What’s the verdict, wife?”
Crooking a finger, I gesture for him to join me. “I think, husband, that it’s entirely appropriate honeymoon attire, and now, I’d love to spend the rest of this afternoon otherwise occupied.”
“As you wish, my beautiful Rose.”
[Keep reading for a glimpse at the Graham Fam in the future…]