Page 190 of The Havenport Collection

Bonus Epilogue

Wyatt

I t had been a long day, and I hadn’t even had a chance to sit down, but I was buzzing with excitement.

I had been waiting for this for weeks. The entire Binnacle team was in the taproom, tasting a new brew after our weekly staff meeting.

These tastings usually turned into a game of darts, a few pizzas, and multiple rounds.

Havenport had become my home, and Binnacle Brewing had become my second family.

After my six-month apprenticeship, Liam had offered me a job as assistant brewer, which I gladly accepted.

I loved it here. I had logged so many hours with these guys, doing the exciting work of brewing, as well as the very unexciting grunt work of cleaning and sanitizing.

But through it all, it had been the best year of my life.

There was one other reason for that too.

Sylvie. My girl. The love of my life. I had moved into the carriage house in the spring, and living with her was even better than I imagined.

Yes, I frequently woke up to her singing, playing, or writing music, but that only made the days that much more fun.

Especially on those days I found her strumming her guitar in only a pair of panties.

We had spent the last year getting to know each other, making love whenever we got the chance, and taking road trips in Jolene.

We spent a few weeks in Maine with my parents over the summer, and they fell in love with her.

In fact, my mother had taken to constantly nagging me about proposing.

As much as her interference annoyed me, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the thought of Sylvie becoming my wife someday.

And I wanted it. I wanted it more than I could admit.

But we were taking our time and building our careers and enjoying every moment together.

Things were still tense with her parents.

While her sisters were welcoming and supportive of our relationship, her parents were still angry she had turned down the corporate job.

She had accepted it and wasn’t seeking their approval anymore, but I know it still stung.

I think they blamed me for making her stay, which was far from the truth.

I would follow Sylvie to Connecticut—hell, I'd follow her to the moon if I had to.

She wanted to be in Havenport, and she wanted to write music; I was just the lucky chump who got to wake up next to her every day.

“Guys, get over here,” Trent yelled. “It’s time to tap this keg.”

I winced. Tonight was the night. We were finally tapping the first keg of my beer.

The batch I had designed, planned, and brewed myself.

Liam had a lot of faith in me, and I had learned so much over the past year.

So when he asked if I wanted to start test brewing new beers I jumped at the chance.

I still had a lot to learn, but I was excited for the next phase of my career here.

And there was a lot riding on this one. As per Binnacle Brewing tradition, if the team didn’t like it, I’d have to wear one of the Oktoberfest costumes all next weekend in the taproom as punishment.

I wanted to keep the lederhosen in the closet where they belonged, not subject the innocent public to that on a random January weekend.

And moreover, I wanted to impress my colleagues and my mentor.

I wanted to show them how much I valued this brewery and appreciated all that they had taught me.

I poured multiple steins, distributing them to the assembled staff, who set about sniffing and inspecting my brew. I held the glass up to the light, admiring the perfect color. I was deep in contemplation when I heard the door open.

I looked up, and Sylvie was standing in the doorway, beaming. She was wearing a green knit cap and a black peacoat that was covered with a light dusting of snow. What was she doing here? As always, she looked ethereally beautiful, and my heart clenched at the sight of her.

While I was always delighted to see my girl, I was a bit confused. I knew she was teaching this afternoon, and we had been planning to meet back at home later.

“Wyatt,” she shrieked, running toward me.

I came around the bar and met her, barely finding my footing before she launched herself into my arms. “I did it,” she yelled, burying her face in my neck.

I hugged her and inhaled deeply, savoring her scent and the feel of her in my arms. Even after a year, it didn’t get old. She was the one for me, and I was the luckiest bastard in the universe.

“What did you do?” I asked, setting her down gently.

“My song.” She twirled around in a circle, beaming. “I sold a song.”

I shook my head. “What? How?”

“On Tune Core. I was contacted by a producer today. They want to use the song I wrote for you in a movie! And they are offering me a ton of money for it.”

This is what Sylvie had been working for, dreaming about. She had spent the last year writing, recording, and promoting her music. She used Tune Core and other sites to list her music to potential buyers and partners.

She rubbed her hands together. “And it gets better. The film is being produced by Felicity Cain. She is going to star in it and sing my song for the soundtrack.”

My jaw dropped. Felicity Cain was one of the most famous pop stars in the world. She was a Grammy winning artist who had recently started acting as well.

“My agent called me. Felicity’s people want to meet with me, talk about the song, and discuss rights, payments, and potential future collaborations.” She jumped up and down several times. “Pinch me; this has to be a dream.”

I picked her up and spun her around. “I am so proud of you, babe. This is what you dreamed about—sharing your music with the world. And I'm not surprised someone like Felicity wants your music. She obviously knows talent.”

She wiped a tear from her eye. “I never thought something like this would happen. But you believed in me, Wyatt. You made me believe in myself, and I love you so much.”

I leaned down and kissed her. She had the sweetest, most kissable lips on the planet. I had intended a quick peck, but Sylvie grabbed me by the back of the head and dove in. And given our euphoria, I couldn’t deny her.

Our public make-out session was interrupted by the cheers and hollers of my coworkers.

“That’s incredible news, Sylvie,” Liam said. “We all knew you could do it.”

“So let’s celebrate,” Trent said, raising the beer stein filled with my beer. “I’ll get one for the lady.”

“We have to see how your boy measures up,” Liam added, handing it to her.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“This is my beer,” I said, feeling a little self-conscious. “It’s actually called Unplugged.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I brewed it for you. It’s a blonde ale with citra hops and a hint of lemon. I wanted something as delicious and unique as you are.”

Trent threw an arm around me. “Our boy Wyatt is sentimental.”

“Thank you,” Sylvie whispered, biting her lip. “I bet it’s the best thing this place has ever brewed. No offense, Liam.”

Liam laughed. “None taken. Let’s drink.”

Everyone took a sip and I froze, trying to read everyone’s reactions. I think I may have temporarily stopped breathing until I saw Liam smile at me. “Well done, dude,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Well fucking done.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Sylvie who gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “It’s delicious,” she said, taking another big sip. “I love it.”

The guys started to dissect the tasting notes, debating the hop ratios I should use on the next batch, but I could barely hear them. I was lost staring at my girl. She was glowing, and I was so damn proud of her. I pulled her close. “I love you.”

She looked up at me. “I love you too, Wyatt. I am just bursting with happiness right now.”

Trent looked up from his phone. “Pizzas are on their way. Also half the town.”

I shot him a look, and he shrugged. “Everyone is so proud of you, Sylvie. We need to celebrate properly.”

She spun around and put her hands on her hips. “How does the town know already? I just told you guys.”

Trent shrugged. “You know good news travels fast in Havenport.”

Within fifteen minutes, various friends, spouses, and townspeople filtered in to toast Sylvie and try my beer.

Pizzas were devoured, Liam’s twin nephews Henry and Sam started a dance party, and pretty soon I was dancing with Jackie from the diner to “Uptown Funk” while Sylvie and her friends took videos with their phones.

It was a fun, silly, and memorable night, filled with laughter and celebration. It warmed my heart to see the town show up for Sylvie like that, to support and celebrate my girl. She deserved all of it and more.

We were slow dancing together after most folks had headed home, exhausted but buzzing with excitement.

Her head rested on my chest, and I savored the citrusy scent of her shampoo, making sure to absorb every detail of this beautiful night so that one day, I could tell our children about it.

“It’s late,” Sylvie said, winding her arms around my neck. “We should get home. I have to thank you properly.”

I smirked, knowing full well what she had in mind. “I did inspire your hit song.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not a hit, just being used in a feature film.”

“Stop right there, beautiful.” I tilted her chin up toward me. “It’s not a hit—yet. But this is just the first step. This is only the beginning for you.”

She caressed my face, laying a sweet kiss on my lips. “No, Wyatt. This is only the beginning for us.”