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I thought of this gorgeous and cozy lodge, the impeccable commercial kitchen, the new friends who’d already welcomed us with open arms, and the old friend who’d jump into this with us in a heartbeat. I thought of being closer to Moose and Jill and having Steph and Mark’s family in our lives. I thought of keeping the house in Houston and still being able to have Tiller’s teammates over for dinner during the season.
I clapped a hand in front of my mouth to keep from squealing in excitement. Happy tears slid out of the edges of my eyes.
“Oh hell yes,” I whispered. “So much.”
Tiller’s hands cupped my face, and the expression of love on his face overwhelmed me. “We’re going to have an amazing life together, Michael Vining. You with me?”
I remembered the night we first got together in this house. The night we finally crossed the boundaries we’d tried to keep between us. “Mm-hm. Yeah. Yep. Yes. That,” I said, teasing him with my silly babbled words from that night. “I would like that. Please. Yes, please.”
Epilogue
Truman - Six Months Later
I watched Tiller throw bean bags toward a row of buckets while Mikey egged him on.
“Thankfully, you catch better than you throw,” Mikey teased. “Your contract would be worth about a buck fifty if you were a quarterback instead of wide receiver.”
Tiller shot him a look and resumed his laser focus on the festival game. I could tell the person manning the booth was less than impressed. Barney was already annoyed at having been suckered into running the bean bag toss booth in the first place, but dealing with the man Barney referred to as “Mister Moneybags” was probably pushing all of his buttons past the red zone.
I made a mental note to have a “headache” tonight. The last thing I needed was Barney Balderson pressuring me for personal intimacies when he was already in a mood. I wasn’t the personal intimacies type on the best of days, but if Barney was in a certain funk, I’d learned early on to stay away.
“If you’d let me have a second helping of egg surprise for breakfast,” Tiller complained, “I would have made the shot.”
Mikey let out a bark of laughter and pinched Tiller’s ass right as he let loose another bean bag. The missile sailed past Barney’s head, nearly knocking his driving cap off.
“Mother of pearl!” Barney shouted in disgust.
Winter Waites walked up and handed me a raspberry slushy from one of the other booths. “What’d I miss? Mr. Balderson looks like he’s about to blow a gasket.”
I sighed and turned away. “Tiller and Mikey are so perfect for each other. Don’t you think?”
Winter’s forehead crinkled. “I do. They’re very different, though. I know they spend a lot of effort making it work.”
Gentry walked up and put a soft cotton hoodie over Winter’s shoulders. “There. But if you need anything else out of the car, you’re on your own. I had to pass the entire cheerleading squad on the way to and from, and every single one of them asked me to sign their phone cases. What even is that? I wish there was still such a thing as CDs.”
Winter shrugged into the jacket before zipping it up and kissing his famous husband on the cheek. “I’d say I owed you one, but I had to help your uncle Doran do groin stretches last week. We’re still so far away from being even, it’s not even funny.”
Gent let out a deep belly laugh and wrapped his arm around Winter’s shoulders. “Point taken. Maybe I’ll cook you dinner tonight to help make up for it.”
Winter rubbed his stomach. “After all this fair food? No way. Besides, we’re headed up to the lodge tomorrow night for Mikey’s big cookbook party, remember? I’m fasting until then to make room for everything he’s making.”
Tiller botched his final bean bag before the two of them turned to join us. Barney shot me a look of stark disapproval. He didn’t like it when I “consorted with the town neophytes.” I didn’t much care what he thought. Which, of course, made me feel guilty.
Barney was good to me, mostly. He kept the Stanner brothers off my back as much as he could, and when I did have an unfortunate run-in with one of them, it was nice having someone’s shoulder to cry on.
Not that anyone knew what had happened back in December with the hit-and-run. No, that was a secret I’d carry to my grave. The last thing I wanted was to start something or bring undue attention to myself here in Aster Valley.
Mikey was obviously in a great mood. His cookbook had been finalized and was scheduled to launch at the beginning of football season. He’d received his first early copies in the mail, so we were all celebrating at the lodge so we could ooh and ahh over it. I couldn’t wait. My personal favorite recipe of his from the book was the Tom Billing Power-Up Muffins, not because they tasted great, which they did, but because the name of the recipe made Tiller adorably jealous for some reason.
