Page 147 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

Epilogue

Thorn, one year later

Maybe someone might consider a romantasy-themed wedding and reception as ridiculous.

River and I never considered anything else.

Velvet banners hang from the ballroom on Brooks and Briar’s estate.

A string quartet is stationed in the corner, performing orchestral versions of River’s favorite pop songs.

The room is packed with people—people I know now because of my family.

My real family.

We have hockey players and billionaires, animal rescue people (and a surly senior cat named Joan of Freaking Arc as our ring bearer). There are normal folk too—men and women River’s met now that her ex is out of the picture and she’s living fully. Friends from the library, friends she met when she joined a Dungeons and Dragons group, teens and adults from a bakery program she volunteers at several times a week.

I’m not the most talkative, not the one who reaches out and makes friends wherever I go—that’s one of River’s strengths, not mine.

But these people are my friends too.

My D&D character is a level eight elf with paladin powers and long-range attack skills.

I’m eagerly awaiting the final book of my favorite romance series to come out.

I’ve watched all of River’s movies and discovered a few new ones of my own.

I even got conned into karaoke during our joint bachelor and bachelorette party.

I’ve gone to hockey games and concerts, walked on the beach and learned to ride a horse and helped foster several of Rory’s dogs (Violet was not happy).

I’ve watched the Lyons collapse, seen my dad in prison orange, silently cheered when he took a deal to stay there forever even as Sergio decided to fight the charges and wait for a trial.

Throughout that all, I’ve lived.

Pascal secured the archive and while certain files conveniently went missing, many, many more were turned over to the FBI.

Rory had her baby.

Jean-Michel and Tiff are adopting.

Briar and Brooks are expecting their first, as are Jace and Marie.

And, though nobody knows it yet, so are River and I.

A beautiful, messy, imperfectly perfect life.

“Thorny!” I hear and turn, smiling as Mia toddles over, her arms raised.

I scoop her up, brushing my beard against her face and making her laugh. “More,” she says. “More!”

I oblige her until she wriggles to get down, toddles along to her next victim.

“You big softie,” River teases, coming over to me, her arm slipping around my waist, her head resting on my shoulder.

Like Claudette used to.

My heart pulses and I send up a silent thank you to the universe for giving me the gift of two amazing women.