EPILOGUE
Gavin
“The winners of the one-hundred and ninth annual hand fasting charity event are Delia Lloyd and Jackson Crane,” Carrigan read, scowling at the announcement in The Wild Mountain Weekly.
Carissa pouted. “You and Ms. Grant—”
“Soon to be Mrs. Walker,” Serena corrected with a smile.
“You should have won! You stayed together the longest. These other people didn’t even make it the full twenty-four hours.”
Serena leaned back from her perch on my lap to look up at me. “Well, we were supposed to report back to the festival—”
“But we were a little busy,” I finished, enjoying the pink blush on my mate’s cheeks.
The girls made a sound of disgust.
“Rules are rules,” Olivia said. She put a tray of cinnamon rolls in the display case. “Gavin made a donation to your troop, and you two got a matchmaking ribbon.”
“Ugh. It’s not the same as winning the money for the Roaring Rangers.”
“We can always find another suck—er—volunteer next year,” Carrigan said.
I wrapped my arms a little tighter around my curvy mate, securing her more firmly to my chest. Her happy sigh reverberated between us, the mate bond lighting up. I could feel her right under my heart. My bear often butted against it, as if to make sure it was real.
Whenever that happened, she would reach for me, as if she could reassure us both with a touch.
She was everything. My light, my heart, my future, my forever.
I inhaled vanilla and citrus, my bear rumbling in my chest.
“I did win, and I got the best prize of all,” I declared, my throat only closing a little at the words.
Serena turned in my arms and kissed me, pressing her soft, sweet lips to mine. “Nope. I’m the winner.”
A burst of laughter and high-fives erupted beyond her shoulders.
“I think we all are, Sunshine.”