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“Cassandra? I just want to thank you for letting me come to this, it was such a special moment and I hope I didn’t intrude.” Gabrielle looks around awkwardly as she approaches me.
I take her hands, my enthusiasm and giddiness suffusing everything I touch. “Oh my gosh, stop. After all you helped Wilson with, we love having you here. And after our mini-honeymoon, I’d love to take you to lunch at the restaurant so we can get to know each other better.”
“Oh, I don’t know about—”
“Or a different place, if Hope Pizza istoo much.” I read her thoughts.
She sucks in a sharp breath as her eyes dart around. “Uh, yeah. Well, I think I’m going to call it a night, I still have some unpacking to do. Thank you again.”
I watch her go over to say goodbye to Patrick, and then I stand and watch her leave.
“I can’t believe you invited her.” Liam comes over to hand me another drink and also to scowl at me.
I shrug, but I know the scheme I’m setting up. “She works here now, and she doesn’t have a ton of people in town. I told her we’d love to have her.”
“She doesn’t know any of us,” he grumbles.
“Now, Liam, I have a feeling that’s not completely true.” Because the way he looks at her gives me the same vibe as the way Patrick looks at me. “She’s single, by the way, Wilson told me before. You should see if she wants to grab a beer while Patrick and I are out of town.”
He nearly splutters his drink back into his cup and looks at me like I’m insane. But if anyone can make Liam less grumpy, I have a feeling it’s the former teacher that he can’t stop staring at.
“Stop hogging my wife.” Patrick struts over, grabbing me by the waist and spinning me around.
“Take me to a beach.” I wrap my arms around his neck, the champagne bubbles making me tipsy.
We’re taking a four-day trip to Yaren’s house in Puerto Rico, which isn’t a house at all but more like a mansion with its own private beach. Since the construction on our house will start almost immediately, we can’t take the huge Europe trip I want to embark on with my new husband, but that can always happen later. We’ll tan, eat our weight in fresh food, and have all the sex on the sand we want.
“Happily. But first I’m taking you to bed, Mrs. Ashton,” he growls low in my ear.
“Have I told you I love the sound of that?”
“Us in bed together or your new last name?”
“Both.” I smile into his neck.
It doesn’t take long for us to shut the small party down and drive through the deserted, wintery streets of Hope Crest alone. When we get home, Patrick plugs our store-bought Christmas tree in and promises we’ll chop down a real one next year when we have more space.
Then I make love to my husband. The only light illuminating the guesthouse is the twinkle of the merry strings around the fake evergreen.
We’ll do this for the rest of our lives; celebrate the day we became one on the most magical night of the year. And I can’t wait for all of it.
EPILOGUE
PATRICK
Three Months Later
“Table three needs their drinks, August.” I hear Liam shout from the kitchen as I wrap up my work for the day.
“Stop talking to the waitstaff like that,” Alana huffs at him from somewhere down the hall past my door.
“Liam, I swear to God, if you don’t put more salt in that sauce, I’m firing you.” Evan’s annoyed voice is like a slap.
Since my little brother came back and relieved our father from cooking duties most nights of the week, there has been some tension in the Hope Pizza kitchen. First off, Evan is the youngest, and none of us are used to taking orders from him. Second, we’ve never seen him work, while the rest of us have slaved in this place for years. Liam is the most put out by it because it has always been assumed he’d take over one day. Now that is in question.
I don’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole, and with my house under construction, a new wife, balancing work, and everything else we have going on, I don’t need to get involved.
The investigation was wrapped up shortly into the new year, with everything explained and settled. Cassandra and I had to go through one long day of interrogations and interviews with a higher-up from some branch that supervised the Hope Crest police department’s handling of the case, but after that, it was over. Am I happy a man is dead? Not necessarily. Does it make it easier that my wife doesn’t have to go through a trial and know that the man who hurt her is alive, even if he was rotting in prison? Yes. Yes, it does. I won’t apologize for that.
