Epilogue
Ledger - Two Years Later
Sarabeth
You’re late.
For?
Sarabeth
Be so forreal right now
The souper bowl party
I smirk while reading my niece’s text. She takes this day so seriously that I couldn’t help pretending I didn’t know what she was talking about.
My truck rolls to a stop in front of the house at the ranch, and I put it in park. The soup I brought is sitting in the passenger seat with the seat belt wrapped around it like a small child.
I don’t know why any of us in the family continue bothering to bring an entry to Sarabeth’s “Souper Bowl Party”. She wins every year.
I type out another quick reply to her before heading inside.
I’m here, genius.
Sarabeth
Okayyy well hurry up. We’re waiting and I need to fill out the label for your entry before the taste testing starts
As I retrieve the goods and walk in the front door, I immediately have half a mind to turn right back around and go home. The entire house is filled to the brim with family members and ranch employees.
I turn my body to the side so that I can pass through several groups of people in orange and blue football jerseys.
Their hands are full of red Solo cups and paper plates full of appetizers.
The pre-game show plays loudly on the big screen TV in the living room, and the kitchen island is littered with steaming pots of various soups.
The Cole family is a social bunch, and I love them. But somehow, the extroverted gene skipped me. Thank god my wife is already here, or I’d be in for a long evening of quiet nods and checking the time on my phone.
It’s been a week since she left for her latest trip. As much as I miss her when she’s gone, I’m damn proud of her and wouldn’t change a thing about the life we’ve built together over the last couple of years.
After we got married, we quickly settled into a routine together. I love our quiet life when she’s home, but I think the summer season is my favorite. That’s when I take time off and travel more with her.
There’s a corkboard map in our living room at the cabin that details everywhere we’ve been together.
We put stars on the places we’ve been and yellow dots on the uncharted spots we have our eye on.
I look forward to every one of them, and life with her has a perfect balance of quiet and adventure that I never knew I craved so badly in a relationship.
I’ve grown accustomed to our little patches of time away from each other, but that doesn’t make me any less feral to find her and kiss her stupid as I weave through the crowd and set my soup in the only clear spot on the kitchen island.
I narrow my eyes at Fletcher’s chili. Cheater.
“Name?” Sarabeth chirps next to me.
She’s holding a white piece of chalk and a miniature chalkboard in her hands.
“Ledger Cole,” I tease.
“Not you,” she sighs. “The soup.”
I chuckle and lean forward, repositioning a few of the surrounding slow cookers to make more room for mine so that it doesn’t come crashing off the counter’s edge once the chaos ensues.
“Chicken noodle.”
She gasps and drops her arms to her side dramatically. “Again? You have got to get more creative.”
“Don’t fix what ain’t broke,” I defend.
Just before I turn back around, two soft hands wrap around my waist. Right on cue, a relieved breath leaves my lungs, and I cover Izzy’s hands with mine. Her cheek is pressed against my back, and she tightly squeezes her arms around my middle.
Normally, I pick her up from the airport when she returns from a trip on her own. This time though, the shoot was only six hours away, and she insisted on driving.
I made damn sure to buy her a new car and check that there weren’t any looming blizzards in her path before agreeing to that idea.
“One hour,” I state firmly.
The apple of her cheek rises against my back with a smile. Her chest vibrates as she laughs, and I release her hands to turn my body and face her.
“We should at least stay for two,” she counters. “Don’t you want to watch a little bit of the game?”
“No,” I mumble. “I’d rather watch my wife with no clo—”
She quirks an eyebrow to cut me off but sneaks one hand under the hem of my shirt at the same time.
“An hour and a half. Final offer,” I say.
Our lips are inching closer to each other like magnets now. She smiles and rises to her tiptoes for a kiss that’s entirely too short for my liking.
“Okay,” she agrees. “Ninety minutes, then we can go home, and I’m all yours.”
Her blue eyes sparkle beneath her thick lashes, and I thread a hand through her silky blonde hair.
All mine.
“You’re beautiful.”
She throws her head back in a laugh. “You don’t have to tell me that every day.”
Agree to disagree.
I pull her in for a longer kiss this time, and she hums sweetly against my mouth.
Sarabeth clears her throat next to us, forcing Izzy to pull away, and I groan, dropping my forehead to hide in the crook of her neck.
“You’re first this year, Aunt Iz. I already drew the order from the names I put in the hat. My soup is right on the end with a bow on the lid,” she says with a wink.
I can’t hold back a laugh, earning me a slap on the bicep.
My hand tucks into my pocket as Izzy steps away, taking the tray from Sarabeth. A group of small, clear plastic cups are arranged on the tray so that each soup can be sampled separately. In the corner, there’s a blank piece of paper to record scores.
“Thank you,” Izzy says cheerfully. “I’ll try not to be too biased. You know chicken noodle is my favorite.”
Sarabeth hands me a tray as well, and I try to keep my free hand to myself as I follow Izzy around the island while we fill our cups. It only takes a few minutes for the kitchen to flood with more people eager to cast their votes.
“I stopped by the liquor store on my way here,” Izzy whispers in my direction as she ladles a creamy potato soup into one of her cups.
“Do you enjoy teasing me?”
“Yes,” she giggles.
I don’t care if I burn my tongue or break our agreement to stay for an hour and a half. I’ll be scarfing this soup down as fast as possible and then hauling ass home with my girl.
After all the votes are counted and I’m awarded third place, again, I spot Izzy talking with Mom and Cheyenne in the hallway.
A smile breaks across my face when my sister laughs, and Mom places a hand on Izzy’s forearm in response to whatever funny story she’s telling them.
I lean back against the wall, fold my arms, and cross one foot over the other. As I watch their interaction, I become all too aware of the light tug in my chest.
They have a good relationship, and I find it hard to remember what it was like without Izzy around. Not a day goes by that I don’t count myself a lucky bastard for picking her up at the bottom of my driveway two years ago.
Fate made a believer out of me that day. And I haven’t taken it for granted a moment since.
Izzy looks around and catches my eye a minute later. She tilts her head, and I smirk. Subtly, I jut my head in the direction of the front door.
I give a catch you later nod to my dad on the other side of the room and then stride down the hall toward the front door. Izzy catches my hand on the way without a word.
“You guys be careful this week! Snow’s coming in, and you might want to hunker down,” Mom shouts in our direction.
Izzy and I share a brief, knowing glance. We both wave in acknowledgment before stepping onto the porch and closing the door behind us.
She’s not the least bit surprised when I scoop her up to carry her down the steps.
“More snow, how tragic,” she squeals through an excited laugh.
“I think we can find something to pass the time.”
The End