Page 84 of Brewer Family Collection, Part 1

Epilogue

Chloe

O ne month later …

“He’s starting to get on my nerves.” I take a bite off the top of the blueberry muffin. “He’s so into this wedding thing that he must dream about it.”

Nickie sits across from me in the break room, smiling blissfully. “It’s so romantic.”

“In theory. I was happy with our little Vegas getaway elopement thing. Now he wants this … production . That’s the only word I can think of to come close to what Jason has in mind.”

Talk of our new nuptials has taken over my life. It was romantic at first. Now? I have to barter with him to get through the night. For every half hour we talk about the wedding, that’s half an hour we do something that I want to do.

That’s usually sex, so he wins, too. But at least I can look forward to it as I decide whether I want a cathedral or an outdoor barn vibe. I usually try to determine which way he’s leaning and choose that because I don’t really care. I want him, and I already have that.

Besides, he’s just trying to make me happy. How can I not love that?

“What’s been going on in your world?” I ask. “I love that lipstick on you, by the way. Super pretty.”

“Thanks. It’s called Viper or Vixen or something. It was in the clearance bin at the pharmacy.” She puckers for me. “But, yeah, that’s about all that’s been happening. I miss seeing you.”

I laugh. “I have seen you every Thursday night for the past four weeks.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because I don’t get to hang out with you at lunch every day. You had to go snag yourself a super-sexy rich husband that you’d rather screw with than gossip with me.” She grins. “But I’m not judging because I’d do the same damn thing.”

We sit quietly, eating our muffins and sipping our coffee.

It doesn’t feel any different being the CEO’s wife. The only difference is I have a better wardrobe, thanks to the shopping extravaganza in Vegas, and fresh flowers are delivered twice a week to my office. I’ve asked Jason to stop doing that, but he smirks.

You must pick your fights in marriage, I’ve learned. Flowers aren’t going to be it for me.

My phone buzzes next to my coffee, and I swipe it up before Nickie can see the screen—just in case.

It’s a text from Tate. But when I open it, there is no message. There’s only a picture of him and Mimi in the golf cart flashing peace signs. Tate is shirtless.

Me: Don’t give her a heart attack! Put some clothes on.

Tate: She likes me this way. tongue sticking out emoji

I snort, shaking my head and closing the screen.

“Who was that?” Nickie asks, plopping a piece of a donut in her mouth.

“Tate. He’s cruising the neighborhood with Mimi right now, sans shirt.”

“That’s it. In my next life, if I can’t return as you, I want to be your grandma.”

I laugh. “You do realize that only a month ago, I was living in the Pliny Building and you felt sorry for me.”

“And you do realize that if I wouldn’t have felt a bit sorry for you if I saw how this story was going to end.”

“I didn’t even believe in happy endings back then.”

Her gaze tracks along the glass wall separating the office from the break room. I follow her line of sight to the hallway … and to Jason. My heart blossoms as our eyes meet.

I never get tired of looking at him. But I also don’t get tired of sleeping next to him, fixing dinner with him, or playing a card game while we wait for our frozen pizzas to cook either.

Jason’s features have changed over the past few weeks.

Despite the pain of his injuries from the crash, his eyes are brighter.

His smile is wider. Jason’s face isn’t as lined as before his father took the plea deal.

He’s talked a little about their conversation, but I don’t push.

I know it hurts him to go back to that day.

It isn’t comfortable for me either.

But whatever was said that afternoon before his phone died and I thought he died was enough to help Jason let go of so much anger. It refocused him. It’s allowed him to give and receive love easier, too.

If there’s one thing Jason Brewer does well, it’s love on me.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Brewer,” he says, grinning. “May I see you in my office for a moment?”

I drop my muffin in the trash can and follow him upstairs.

Turn the page to read Ripley’s story in The Invitation …