Flynn is waitingfor me downstairs. My cheeks are still damp from saying goodbye to Livi and Wright but the second he wraps me up in his arms I feel at home.
“You ready?” he murmurs against the top of my head.
“Yes.” I catch Lachlan’s gaze and pull away from Flynn. “Just one last thing. Keep an eye on Wright for me, will you?” I ask Lachlan. “Trouble has a tendency of finding her.”
Lachlan grunts. “More likeshehas a tendency to find trouble,” he grumbles, but he dips his head. “I’ll watch out for her.”
Flynn pulls my back to his front, his lips brushing my ear. “Are you playing matchmaker, Little Lilac?”
“Shh,” I say, spinning back to face him.
He grins and hands me my new Canadian passport.
I open it. “Flynn and Hazel Taylor.” I smirk up at him. “Does that make me your wife?”
Flynn’s eyes flare with molten heat. “Fuck, yes. Definitely yes.”
I laugh and he stamps his lips against mine.
He leads me to the garage and holds open the door. “After you, Mrs. Flynn.”
I take another deep breath.
Hey Mom, I married a serial killer and we’re coming home.
EPILOGUE – SIX MONTHS LATER
Flynn
I leanagainst the glass shop window, spinning the ring on my finger as I watch my Little Lilac organize the latest delivery of books on the shelves.
“You know, I thought making this official would make you less stalker-y not more,” she says over her shoulder, wiggling the wedding band on her finger in the air.
A deeply satisfied smile curves my lips at seeing the silver ring with its lilac gemstone that I chose for her. Hazel is mine in every sense of the word now and I’m not sure I ever plan to become less of a stalker.
“You like me stalker-y,” I say.
She shoots me a narrowed look. “Do not,” she argues, but the glimmer in her eyes and the slight tilt to her lips says otherwise.
“You’re going to scare off the customers,” she says, and I snort at the idea. Olive Books has been open for three months now and locals and tourists alike continue to flock through the doors. I spent our first month here taking photos for the walls and fitting the oak shelves myself.
As if to prove my point, the bell above the door dings and a young woman comes in with a small child in tow. It’s not till she turns to face Hazel that I see the bruise on her cheek and realizeshe’s not an average customer. I straighten up and Hazel smiles at the newcomers. “Hi, how can I help?”
The woman adjusts her long brown hair, covering up the bruise. She shifts on her feet, her kid squeezing up against her leg. “Uh, I was told to come here and ask for Hazel.”
Hazel looks over at me and I nod.
As much as she was enjoying running the bookshop, I could tell Hazel was missing her old job. Missing being able to help people. Which was how the slightly less than legal side of the bookshop began.
Hazel gets up, her voice gentle as she approaches the woman and kid. “I’m Hazel. Why don’t we talk in my office?”
The mother looks at her boy.
“He can come,” Hazel says. “We’ve got some toys for the little ones.”
I wink at the boy, and he tries to wink back but only manages to blink. I grin.
“That’s Flynn.” Hazel waves a hand at me. “He’s um, the muscle.”
