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“Whenever you want, we’ll be there for the not-bitter coffee.”

He took the book from her, gave her a nod, and said, “Thank you.”

“Can I ask you something?” Abby said when she moved back into Quinn’s side, and Quinn wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulders.

“Sure.”

“What are they asking for this house?”

Quinn turned her head to her girlfriend in confusion.

“I might be interested in buying it,” Abby added.

Quinn smiled softly at her. Then, she smelled it. Abby must have, too, because they both turned their heads at the same time in the direction of the field.

Honeysuckle.

EPILOGUE

Two Years Later

Abby sat on the front porch with her cup of hot decaf coffee and their dog, Honey, a one-year-old golden retriever who couldn’t keep still to save her life. Whenever the squirrel that liked to taunt her took off across the driveway and into the tree in front of the house, Honey took off after it, barking at the base of the tree.

“Honey! Come on!” Abby yelled half-heartedly but made no attempt to actually stop her.

“Squirrel again?” Quinn asked when she emerged from the house with a blanket and a picnic basket.

“Yeah. And what’s all that?” she asked, referring to the items held in her girlfriend’s hands.

“Want to go on a picnic with me?” Quinn asked hopefully.

“No, it’s going to be six soon. The sprinklers will go off again.”

Quinn laughed and said, “Not at the park. Come on, babe.” She nodded toward the field.

“You want to sit out there and eat?”

“Not there. Just trust me.”

“Is she coming with us?” Abby nodded toward their silly dog.

“Not this time. Honey, come inside!” Quinn yelled.

Honey stopped barking and rushed toward Quinn. The dog listened to Abby sometimes, but she always listened when Quinn gave her a command.

“Dinnertime!” Quinn announced in a voice reserved only for Honey, and Honey took off into the kitchen to find her meal. Quinn closed the door behind her and said, “She’ll be good in there for a while. I left her one of the big bones, too.”

“That’s why you’re her favorite. I try to parent her well. You give in. Good thing we don’t want kids. We’d be terrible at parenting them together.”

“No, we wouldn’t.” Quinn laughed. “Did you finish your coffee?”

“Just about.” Abby finished the last sip and set the cup on the porch rail to deal with later. “What’s the occasion? Our anniversary was, like, a month ago.”

“No occasion. We’ve just been spending so much time working on the house, the shop, and your book is coming out; I thought we could do with a little date night,” Quinn replied.

One of the many things Abby loved about this woman was that Quinn loved planning things like this for them. Abby had once worried that because they felt so destined to be together based on some past lives they had no control over, that they might just fall into a relationship and not put any effort into, accepting it more than trying to have the best relationship they could together. Quinn had never let that happen, though. She’d even made Abby better as a result, and Abby liked planning things for them, too, now. She also loved going to the shop, sitting in the newly remodeled back of it, and watching Quinn work while she wrote or edited something in a book. She knew Quinn loved having her there, and she missed Quinn whenever they were apart, so working where she worked was good for both of them.

“Ready,” she announced.