Then he touches his fingertips to the necklace before setting them over the bracelet on my wrist. “We match.”
“Still waiting for a yes here, pookie.”
He’s nodding before he answers. “Yes. A thousand yeses. And you don’t need anyone to pressure me into it. Not with you.”
I push to my feet and kiss him, loving the taste of him and how passionately he kisses me back.
“You know,” I mutter against his lips. “We could skip tonight and hang out in this room. For old time’s sake.”
“You want to miss the opening of our own club?”
“Seems reasonable.”
Proving he has a thousand times more restraint than me, St. Clare pulls back and hands me the necklace. “Put this on me.”
I’m only too excited to. I clasp it around his neck, and it shines brightly on the brightest man I’ve ever met.
His hand cups my face, eyes still watery, and these days he doesn’t try to hold back from showing me how much he loves me.
“Come on,” he says. “You need to check everyone working knows how to make our drink.”
In honor of my pookie, Ididcomplete my certificate in business management, and Ididtrain in how to make cocktails. The whole drinks menu at our new nightclub was thought up by me.
And for our opening night, theLove at First Shotis five dollars until closing.
I loved being a barista because of the customers, and working a bar is like that butbetter. People don’t just tell me about their day; I get their entire life story.
This, right here, is what perfection looks like.
Family, friends, his mom and dad, who are my mom and dad. Our head of security and bestie fur-ever, Lars. And the baddie bunch, who set me up on this path and pushed me to get to where I was supposed to be and where I finally belong.
With St. Clare.
With my pookie.
A complete matching set.
