Epilogue

Miles stood outside the door of the Bourbon Suite shaking his head. Kayla had blocked his path and refused to budge no matter how big a fuss he made. From behind her came the sound of Stephanie’s laughter.

“What do you mean she’s not ready yet?” he asked. “We’ve got to be there in half an hour!”

“And it’ll take all of five minutes to get to where you’re going,” said Kayla. “Relax, will you? Go hang out with Brent—he’s used to this kind of thing.”

With a half-hearted grumble Miles turned and headed for the Checkerberry’s porch where he’d just passed by his lemonade-sipping cousin. It was another blisteringly hot Friday in late August, but an oncoming storm was bringing some cooler air, making the temperatures a bit more manageable. He tossed his tux jacket over the back of a wicker chair across from Brent and dropped into the seat with a sigh.

“Are women always this damned slow getting ready?”

Brent chuckled. “Get used to it, buddy. I swear, it’s only gonna get worse from here on out.”

“You’d think now that she’s got me roped in she’d be less worried about her appearance, not more.”

“Now that she’s got you roped in?” Brent smirked.

Miles flipped him off. Sure, they both knew better. He had flown all the way to Florida on a wing and a prayer that she’d take him back. But it was easier on his ego to think things were the other way around.

Regardless of who had roped in whom, there was no denying that this relationship stuff took work. So far, though, things for him and Stephanie had gone pretty smoothly. And what they couldn’t work out with words? Well, they hadn’t encountered anything that couldn’t be resolved in the bedroom.

Almost made him want to pick fights with her more often.

“I’ll not have such gestures on these grounds, young man.” Ruby stepped onto the porch, a glass of lemonade in her grasp. She handed it to him, the biting scent of whiskey mingling amid its contents. “Here, dear. To soothe your nerves.”

“Thanks, Grandma. I don’t know why I’m so…”

She offered him a knowing smile. “Anxious?”

“For her, not for me,” he said. “It’s Stephanie’s first media appearance since this spring. I’m just hoping Chris isn’t pushing her too soon, having her on stage while the governor makes his announcement.”

“I have a feeling she’ll surprise you, dear. And she was the one who chose the date, not Mr. Evanston.”

“Yeah, but that was before we knew Liam would be in attendance.”

“Well, yeah. A media pig like that has to make up for the stunt he pulled at the last one.” Brent grinned. “Of course, he gives her any trouble, you know what to do.”

“He’d better not. I need this hand for tennis tomorrow. Steph’s already up three matches to one on me.”

Ruby wagged a finger in his direction. “There will be no violence at this dinner, do you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am. Though, I can’t speak for Steph.”

Miles winked and took a sip of the Lynchburg Lemonade. Though the sweet-tart concoction left a cool burn along his throat, it went down far too easily. Probably it was for the best that Maddie’s end-of-the-week pitcher wasn’t within reach—hard to hobnob when you couldn’t walk a straight line.

The front door opened, and Kayla stepped out, her face lit with excitement.

“Okay, I tried something a little different with her hair this time, but I think it came out all right. Are you all ready to see the final results?”

“Miles is gonna combust if you make him wait any longer, babe,” said Brent with a chuckle. “Please, just get her out here already.”

Kayla winked at her man then stepped aside to allow Stephanie room to pass. The bottom of a red, floor-length shimmery gown came into view as she stepped forward on heels higher than Miles had ever seen her wear before. His gaze trailed northward, dumbstruck at how the gown fit her like a glove…and hugged ever one of her mouthwatering curves. She wore more makeup than he was used to. Subtle, save for the taunting color on her perfect lips.

“Well? What do you think?” she asked, turning in a slow circle so the group could see her attire from all sides.

Miles rose on wobbly knees and moved toward her. “How about we say to heck with dinner and go back home so I can show you what I think.”

“Oh, no you don’t, buddy.” Kayla stepped between them. “Not after I just made her sit through an hour of bobby pin hell.”

Stephanie laughed as color pinked her cheeks. “It’s only two hours, Miles. Surely you can hold out that long.”

“I can,” he said, pulling her close to press a kiss below her ear. “But it might well kill me.”

“I know CPR,” she whispered. “And mouth-to-mouth, if necessary.”

“Oh, there’s no question it will be necessary,” he whispered back.

“Will you two get a room already?”

Everyone turned to find Maddie joining their group, the staff-only pitcher of lemonade in one hand and a stack of glasses in the other.

“Seriously. It’s bad enough watching these two”—she motioned toward Brent and Kayla, who were now cuddled up on the porch swing—“be constantly lovey-dovey. Now you, too?”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous,” sang Kayla under her breath.

Maddie threw her a dark look. “Uh, no. Any more romance in the air around here and the inn’s going to get the kind of reputation you don’t want.”

“Heavens, no,” chuckled Ruby.

Brent and Kayla looked to each other and burst into a round of giggles, the words “seedy motel” mixed in with the laughter.

“I’ve got news for you, Maddie. Even if you think you can avoid love, you can’t, no matter how hard you try.” Miles looked at the woman in his arms, at her beautiful face smiling up at him, and bent to press a whisper-soft kiss to the tip of her perfect nose. “Trust me, I would know.”

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