Page 172 of The Havenport Collection

Bonus Epilogue

Josh

Six weeks later

I had a spring in my step as I made my way down Water Street in the bitter February cold. The sun was setting, even though it was only five p.m., and the temperature was steadily dropping. But I had an epic evening planned, and nothing would get in my way.

My interview this morning took longer than expected, and I was behind schedule. But it was all good news, and I couldn’t wait to tell Maggie.

I walked by the diner, hearing someone shout my name.

Jackie’s gray beehive popped out the door as I turned.

“Joshua!” she yelled, shuffling onto the sidewalk in her blue polyester uniform.

“Look at you. Are those flowers for me?” she asked, giving me a flirtatious wink and eyeing the bouquet of roses on my arm.

“Jackie, we both know you’re taken and so am I. These are for my lovely wife.”

She patted my cheek. “Good man. How did things go this morning?”

I rolled my eyes. How the entire town knew about my employment prospects was something I could not even begin to fathom. It was ridiculous that the senior citizens would be better at spreading gossip via their phones than the teens, but it was the Havenport way.

“I’m not saying a word,” I said, tapping my nose. “I have to talk to my wife first.”

She broke into a huge smile and waved me off. “Then get out of here.”

I only had forty minutes to get the rest of the items on my list and get home, but I hadn’t been working out nonstop for the last six months for nothing. So I broke into a jog and headed toward the last stop on my list.

The bell over the door chimed, and I was met with the beaming faces of Mary and Bob Foster.

“We were worried you might not make it,” Mary said.

“But we would have stayed open late for you.” She gave me a warm smile.

The Fosters had owned Get the Scoop, an artisan ice cream shop in downtown Havenport, for decades.

Maggie had been coming here since she was a kid, and it was her favorite ice cream in the world.

They had been more than happy to help me when I called and asked for a special flavor.

Bob clapped me on the shoulder. “This was a great idea, son. She’s going to love it. I’ll just pop back to the freezer.”

When he returned, Bob handed me an insulated shopping bag. “Four quart-size containers with the label you made and everything.”

I peeked inside. Perfect .

“I can’t thank you enough,” I said, feeling a bit overwhelmed by their kindness.

“No need. This is Havenport. We all pitch in to help each other out. Just bring the kids in to see us soon,” Mary said.

I made it home in time to get the tablecloth out of the dryer and rush through the last-minute prep.

When the garage door opened, I breathed a sigh of relief and surveyed my handiwork.

I had set the table with our wedding china and a fancy tablecloth, then I’d arranged a few candles in the middle.

The candles were unlit but quite artful in their arrangement, if I did say so myself.

A bottle of champagne sat unopened on the table next to the crystal flutes that had belonged to my mom.

Delicious smells filled the kitchen, and Sinatra was crooning softly through the Bluetooth speaker I had dug out of the garage. It was go time.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful,” I said, kissing Maggie deeply once she stepped through the door.

She dropped her bags and coat on the floor and threw her arms around my neck. “I missed you.”

I worked my way down her neck. “I missed you too, babe.”

“Wait,” she said, looking around, her brows furrowed. “Where are the kids?”

I kissed her forehead softly. “At my dad’s for dinner and a movie. He’s bringing them back at ten.”

She looked at her watch. “So we—”

“Have four glorious hours of alone time,” I finished.

She launched herself into my arms again. “My hero.”

“Wait,” I said, trying to slow her down as she unbuckled my belt. “I made dinner. We don’t have to rush.”

Her pout was so adorable that I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and take her to bed. But I’d spent so much time planning and cooking; we could wait a little while longer.

“I’m going to feed you first. There’s more than enough time. Get washed up.”

“Thanks for all of this.” Maggie gestured to the table. “I love it.”

She looked so beautiful lit by the low flames of the candles.

“My pleasure. I wanted to give you an unforgettable Valentine’s Day. But we’re celebrating some good news as well.”

She raised an eyebrow at me.

I took my time topping off her champagne flute and then smiled. “Things went really well this morning, and you’re looking at the new director of the Havenport Urgent Care Clinic.”

“Congratulations, Josh! You’ll be brilliant.” Maggie’s smile lit up the room. I had missed it. It was rare and often hard-earned. It only occurred when she was bursting with happiness.

Her face fell slightly after a moment. “Are you sure? Won’t you miss the ER? Havenport is pretty boring by comparison.”

“I don’t think so. For the first time in years, I’m actually excited about work. It will be a new challenge. Plus, no overnight shifts will be a bonus. I don’t ever want to sleep in an on-call room when I can be snuggled up here with you instead.”

She blushed, and my heart soared. After more than a year of sleeping without my wife, every night felt like a beautiful gift.

“And what better way to use my medical training than to help the people of Havenport?”

“It’s perfect for you.”

“I know you’ve enjoyed having me as your trophy husband…”

Maggie winked and squeezed my hand across the table. “You’re still my hot trophy husband, regardless of where you work. And now we can come home after long shifts, swap crazy stories, and take relaxing bubble baths together to unwind.”

I pinned her with an intense stare. “Woman, if I get in that tub with you, there will be no relaxing.”

She shivered and her cheeks went pink, but her eyes blazed with desire

I brought her hand up to my lips and kissed it gently. Damn, I didn’t know how much longer I could sit here without kissing her.

But before I could take her to bed, I had one last surprise. “Close your eyes,” I instructed, heading to the kitchen. I placed the container in front of her, along with two bowls and two spoons.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s your present. I know you don’t like gifts, but I wanted to do something special for you.”

She studied the label. “Maggie Mania,” she read.

“Yup. It’s the newest official flavor at Get the Scoop.”

She turned the carton around, looking at the photo of her and reading the description. “Coffee ice cream with salted caramel swirls and pretzel pieces? Oh my God, this sounds amazing.”

“Mary and Bob helped me design the flavor. It’s salty, sweet, and caffeinated, just like you, my love.”

“Josh, I can’t believe this. It’s the best present ever.”

“Don’t worry. The freezer is full of it. Probably enough to last you a week.” I winked. Maggie’s appetite for ice cream was endless.

“Good. Because I am so eating this all right now.”

I angled closer and whispered in her ear. “Just save a little, because I want to lick it off your body later.”

She froze, eyes wide, and bit her bottom lip. “I guess I could share.”

Before I could reply, she stood, walked slowly toward me, and trailed her fingers down my chest to my belt. “You know, I’m pretty full from dinner. How about we work it off before dessert?”

I grabbed the ice cream off the table, threw it back in the freezer, and kissed her before she could change her mind. Then threw her over my shoulder and headed for the stairs.

“Josh, I can walk.” She giggled.

“But this is the perfect excuse to get handsy with my wife.”

When we got upstairs, I pinned her to the bed, searching her deep green eyes. “I love you, Maggie Hardy. And I will love you forever.”

She kissed me softly. “Good. Because I love you, Josh Hardy. Promise me you’ll still lick ice cream off me when we’re in our nineties.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it.”

Want more Havenport? Meet Maggie’s sister Cecelia in Trusting You.

PROLOGUE

Cecelia

I never intended to be a total failure. It certainly wasn’t part of my grand life plan.

But even with the best intentions, I still ended up back here.

Maybe I could become a motivational speaker?

Speak to high school kids about my failure to adult properly?

Launch some kind of self-help empire for the chronically underachieving?

I would think about that later. Now, I just had to breathe.

It takes a special kind of underachiever to wind up back in your hometown with no job, no boyfriend, and no apartment at age thirty-one.

It wasn’t as if I was ashamed of my recent breakup or layoff.

I knew deep down that neither was a good fit.

And I’d had enough jobs and boyfriends to know how to pick myself up and dust myself off when things went south. But things were different this time.

Because I was faced with the very unsettling realization that after thirty-one years on this planet, I had very little to show for myself.

I didn’t love my career as a pharmaceutical marketing executive.

I didn’t even like it most days. And I certainly had not loved Xavier, my creeper ex.

I didn’t love my harried, anxious life in New York.

My life was just devoid of passion and fun and excitement.

And that was a far bigger blow than losing a mediocre job and a mediocre guy.

So, in addition to being single and unemployed, I was also in the middle of a Grand Canyon-sized rut.

If I was capable of getting out of my own head, I would have seen the beautiful views, smelled the salty sea air, and realized that it actually was nice to be back. Instead, I was just living in my own doom spiral of shame.

My heart rate rose as I crossed the bridge over the swelling Haven River. The large “Welcome to Historic Havenport, founded in 1685” sign greeted me as my car crossed over into town.

So here I was. On the other side of thirty with not a clue what was going to come next. But I knew one thing for sure. I was done with men. For good.