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I perch on his desk and wriggle the package free from my purse. “If a world-famous professional fighter is going to be in our wedding party, we better be ready to handle some press.”
“We can handle anything, baby,” he says. He leans in and gives me a gentle kiss.
I know he’s right. We can handle anything—together.
We’re on an adventure, and it’s the adventure of a lifetime.
Epilogue
Kate and Sawyer’s new apartment has wood floors.
I’m really glad about that. Wood floors are much easier to clean than carpets.
“I am so sorry,” I say as I scoop Rosie up into my arms.
Rosie is at that stage of Golden Retriever puppy that is more like a stuffed animal than a dog. So adorable, it almost hurts to look at her. And the flower-adorned collar Brock got her makes her even prettier, if that’s possible.
She’s super cute, even if she’s being naughty.
“I swear,” I tell Kate, “we walked her for fifteen minutes before we came in.”
Brock exits the bathroom off the living room. He has a roll of paper towels in his hands, plus a bottle of cleansing spray. “Now we’re even,” he teases Kate. “This is exactly the housewarming gift your Mr. Brown gave me when he came to stay.”
Kate laughs and crouches to pet Mr. Brown, who is lounging on his puffy bed. He’s a little more silver in the face than the last time I saw him. His wary look lets me know he’s not sold on Rosie yet.
Zoey, however, is a big fan. She has been ever since Brock and I walked in a half-hour ago with our newly adopted pup.
The smells of fajita steaks wafts out of the kitchen. I can hear the food sizzling in a fry pan, because the studio is small.
Sawyer and Kate wanted it to be cozy, and it is. The walls are decorated with funky, modern art, and the rooms are crowded with off-beat used furniture: A yellow futon, a funky orange armchair, and a coffee table painted with polka dots.
Kate added a second colorful streak to her hair, this one purple. She looks so happy with her infant daughter, Chloe, cradled to her chest. She lowers down onto the futon and pats the seat next to her.
“You two get over here,” she says to me and Rosie. “I want to see this pup up close.”
“You need a hand?” I ask Brock as I pass by the floor he’s cleaning up.
He glances up at me. “Nah, got it. You relax.”
“What a guy,” Kate teases, wiggling her brows. “If he’s this attentive with a puppy, imagine how he’ll be if you two have a kiddo.”
I freeze and straighten up. In my arms, Rosie wiggles.
Kate gapes at me.
“What?” I say.
She narrows her eyes. “Hm…”
I widen my eyes, trying to look innocent.
That only makes her laugh. “You are the worst actress, Gwen.”
“I have no idea what you’re?—”
In Kate’s arms, Chloe squirms and gives a soft cry. Kate gently bounces her. “Hush, hush, baby girl, I’m just talking to your auntie.”
I love hearing that word: Auntie.
