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The truth rocked him harder than the damn plane he’d taken at the start of all this.
“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”
“Well, you lost me anyway, genius,” she said quickly.
A small grin tugged his lips. “But I plan on getting you back.”
“And how do you plan that?” she asked.
“Well, since this is my company, and we set into motion new rules that I can’t be voted out, Laythem Inc. is secure, and I can telecommute. Say, from . . . Oregon.”
Her lips parted, and her eyes widened. “You’d really come to live in Yachats?”
“I would do anything for you,” he said. Cupping her face, he urged her gaze to stay locked on his. “I’m sorry I went about that in the wrong way.”
He’d wanted to hold on to his father’s company and memory, yet he was doing both a disservice by turning from the real-life woman who made him a better man.
She smiled, and he caught a single tear running down her face with his thumb.
“I love you, Hannah.”
“I love you, too,” she breathed, and he kissed her hard. With everything he was feeling, everything he missed, everything he had, he kissed his wife.
Because she was finally in his arms, and there was no amount of money or distance that would ever keep him from her again.
“Well, since I’m here in New York,” she said against his mouth, “I suppose I could spend a few days with you before we get back to Yachats. Maybe take you out to dinner. Apparently I’m a millionaire now.”
He smiled. “The sexiest millionaire in the world.”
“I think you have me beat on that one,” she said and melted into him, her soft lips parting to drink him in, and Grant fell hopelessly for the love of his life. His wife. Again.
Epilogue
Hannah wiped down the counter at Goonies and looked around. She smiled at the upgrades and remodel Cal had done over the past few months.
The bar was busy, and Hannah was happy.
Beyond happy.
She had a little house, a little bar, and a very large man. All of which she loved. The latter more than the others. The only bummer was that it wasn’t her neck that was hurting anymore. It was her lower back. But that was to be expected when—
“Hannah, can I get another drink here?” Larry yelled at her, interrupting her daydreaming.
She huffed at Larry and poured him another round. His white beard was getting longer and scragglier. “Seriously, how are you not in the morgue yet?”
“You should be nicer to your best customer,” the old man grumbled, and Hannah placed a bowl of peanuts in front of him. He had a point. The man did drink here a lot.
“You should try an iced tea and a salad sometime. Good for your health. Some people may want you around for a while longer yet,” she said and patted the top of his hand.
He laughed. “Ah, no one wants me around that long.”
Hannah shot him a smile and walked down the bar. Her feet were killing her. She had hired two bartenders so that she didn’t have to work all the time. Business was booming, Grant was due back from New York tonight, and she was so excited to see him that nothing could bring her mood down.
She looked at the clock. Five more hours, then Grant would land and finally be on his way home.
The door opened, and she prepared herself for another customer . . . but it wasn’t a customer who walked through the door.
“I hear this is the best bar in town, where the most gorgeous woman in the world works,” Grant said, walking through the entrance in his three-piece suit. He looked like he’d just come straight out of the pages of GQ.
