Page 122 of Some Kinda Romance

EPILOGUE

SERENITY

One Year Later

It was amazing how many things could change in just a day, but give it a year, and it could be truly mind-blowing. At least, it had been in my case.

By the time Richard and Diana’s first wedding anniversary rolled around, I was busier than I’d ever been before. Their big day had put my company on the map and the first few weddings that had followed had proven that I hadn’t been a one-hit wonder.

It had also proven that Dash hadn’t been lying about me having been the one to plan that wedding. In the time since, the business had really taken off and it was bigger and better than ever. I’d acquired two more venues, keeping the original one as our headquarters for those wanting a city wedding, but I now also had a more rustic beach venue as well as a glamorous barn for upscale, farm-style weddings.

All three venues were quickly filling up for dates two years in advance, and on the planning side of things, the company had become the number-one destination for bespoke wedding coordination. I’d even had a few more features in magazines and people were coming from all over to meet with us about their weddings.

Julie was currently in Miami, coordinating the wedding of a famous pop star who was marrying a local football player. She and I had both been commuting a bit for our out-of-town clients, but it was so worth it.

As I climbed into my car after another long day, I shook my head and giggled at the message I’d received from Diana a few minutes ago.

Wonderful Future MIL: Anything to plan yet??

Over the holidays last year, Corbin had gotten hold of my phone and had changed her name to that from Diana. As soon as she had cottoned on, she’d strictly told me to leave it as it was. I’d complied without making too big a deal about it, but secretly, I’d been thrilled that his family had accepted me into the fold so seamlessly.

Me: Nope. Enjoy your second honeymoon!

She sent me a thinking face emoji as well as a thumbs-up in return, and I chuckled as I turned over my engine. Life with the St. Clairs was never boring, but I honestly couldn’t complain.

I’d always wondered what it would be like to be part of a big family, and now that I knew, it would be devastating to go back to being on my own. Thankfully, I didn’t think that was ever going to happen.

In the last year, Dash had grown by leaps and bounds, not only romantically, but even as a brother. Apparently, he’d realized at the wedding that he’d even been shutting his family out of his life for years and he’d been working on fixing that too.

His mom and Richard were thrilled, and so was I. The St. Clair boys were a force to be reckoned with when they were together, but they were also loud and heaps of fun.

Plus, between them, they had thousands of followers online, and when Ethan had tried coming after Dash again, they’d made him feel their wrath. Working together, they’d shut down the rumors Ethan had tried to spread about Dash getting one of those girls he’d been pictured with pregnant, and they also somehow managed to find evidence that Ethan had been the one responsible for the hacking of the security cameras in my building.

Although his lawyers had managed to keep him out of prison, he’d paid a hefty fine and was failing miserably at trying to rehabilitate his image. He’d given up on trying to get me back when the video had failed to drive Dash and me apart, but he’d started a new events-coordination company that was going nowhere slowly.

After he’d also failed to hurt Dash by spreading those rumors, he’d stopped coming after him too. He’d been trying to act like he’d learned his lesson, but to my relief, no one was buying it.

Ethan had been exposed for the slimeball he truly was and people weren’t having it anymore. Treated as a pariah now by his former peers, the mighty really had fallen. I didn’t think of him often these days, but when I did, like now, all I felt was relief that he wasn’t part of my life anymore.

Meanwhile, Dash had made a point of subtly helping me pinpoint the areas in which Ethan had skewed my perception of reality. For example, I no longer felt guilty when he took care of me if I was sick. He was ecstatic about it.

I also no longer thought about poaching his staff, realizing that it wasn’t a competition and that he really was willing to help me professionally without expecting anything in return. His expertise still hadn’t failed me once and he always shared tips and tricks freely when I ran into trouble—which I was no longer taking personally.

We’d even worked together a few more times and he always let me take the lead, charming the clients and getting them onboard before letting me run with the actual planning. We made a mean team, and some of my favorite memories of us were of our late-night work sessions, both of us in bed with our laptops and our pajamas on.

I walked into his apartment with a smile, but I stopped short when I saw that every available surface was covered in candles this evening. The scent of vanilla and melting cheese wafted through the air. The dining-room table was laden with food I recognized instantly as Angelo’s.

“Dash?” I called, setting down my purse and keys in the foyer before I took a few more steps forward. “Honey, I’m home!”

These days, his place was as familiar to me as my own. We spent some nights here and some at my apartment, but for the last three months, we’d spent every night together. I’d never moved, but after Ethan had given up, it hadn’t seemed necessary—especially since I spent more than half my time here anyway, still preferring Dash’s building in the times when the paparazzi’s interest in us flared up again.

Usually, however, I came home to find him lounging on the couch, waiting for me in bed, or I got home before he did. Candlelight and a table set for a fancy dinner wasn’t a nightly thing for us and I smiled, wondering what he was up to now.

“Dash?” I called again.

He appeared from around the corner, wearing my favorite gray sweatpants and nothing else.

My eyebrows swept up and my smile widened, but he shook his head at me, producing one of his T-shirts from behind his back. “Put this on. We’re getting comfortable.”