There’s a stillness that follows the silence after his words. Because we’re both holding our breath. It feels like the traffic a few hundred feet below us have come to a sudden stop, like the sun has halted in the sky, like the whole world is waiting for my answer.
But it’s a foregone conclusion.
“Then, yes.” The word is a soft gust of breath as I rise up on my toes and grab Lance’s face between my hands, pulling his lips down to meet mine. “Yes,” I say again, “to all of it. But most of all, to you.”
And as Lance slides his ring onto my finger, his tongue slides into my mouth. I suck on it, savoring the silken taste of him. There’s a giddiness inside of me that pushes bright, happy bubbles of contentment into all those places that have felt dull and empty. Vacant.
Waiting for this man, this moment.
Lance’s love is a kind of energy that has taken up residence inside my body. Shoring up the cells and muscles and bones. Strengthening my own defenses.
And it’s almost too good to be true.
But it is true.
This man is mine. This life is mine.
And I am his.
EPILOGUE 1
LANCE
99 DAYS AFTER LABOR DAY
Tonight is the opening night of the Holiday Designer Showcase and Vivienne’s room, the gentleman’s study, is particularly popular. I still don’t know how my fiancée takes a plain-looking box of a room and infuses it with life, but she’s done it yet again.
Christmas carols play from hidden speakers, a Christmas tree glistens with hand-blown glass ornaments, and the furniture is cozy and welcoming. And a self-serve, make-your-own eggnog bar is set up in the corner, stocked with a variety of syrups and spices, along with a tray piled high with gingerbread cookies and peppermint bark.
All of our friends have stopped by to show their support at some point tonight, and I’m so proud of Vivienne I’m practically bursting with it. As is Savannah, who arrived a few minutes ago, and Vivienne’s parents who were the first ones to walk though the door.
It’s impossible not to love Vivienne. Impossible not to want to be near her.
Eva catches sight of what I’m sure must be a love-drunk look on my face (I’ve been wearing a lot of those lately) and rolls her eyes. “You owe me,” she says, doctoring her eggnog with cinnamon and taking a sip.
“You’re not kidding,” I admit, my gaze firmly on the other side of the room where Vivienne is talking to a woman who, from the looks of it, is about to become her newest client. I owe Eva a debt no amount of money could ever pay. I needed her help to win back the love of my life after an epic fuck-up. Vivienne Radcliffe is priceless.
She nudges me with an elbow to my ribs. “Of course, I’m kidding . . . Though,” she positions herself so she’s standing in my shadow, “if you can hide me from Jolie, I’ll consider us even.”
I pull my eyes away from Vivienne to glance at Eva. “Is she on another matchmaking kick?”
“Is she ever. Do you know she suggested I go on a date with Holt? I mean, the guy lives out of a suitcase, jet-setting from one hotel to another. How exactly would me and my two kids ever fit into his life?”
I smirk. “It could be worse, she could try setting you up with Bryce.”
Her eyes grow wide with horror. “You know, one of these days, I’d actually like to meet him. But as for dating a hockey-playing, panty-chasing playboy . . . no, thanks.”
Savannah grabs a cookie from the tray and joins us. “What’s this about a hockey player? Sign me up.”
“I’ll introduce you to Jolie. I’m sure she’ll love having someone appreciate her matchmaking efforts.”
Vivienne comes up beside me, slipping her arm through mine. “What are you three chatting about?”
“Nothing important,” Eva says. “Besides, I’d much rather talk about this room. It’s amazing. I wandered around the whole place and this one is my absolute favorite.”
Vivienne flushes with pleasure, the ring on her finger glinting as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Thank you. It’s been an incredible experience.”
“And the wedding—I hear you’ve officially set a date.”
I squeeze Vivienne’s waist, dropping a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Labor Day.”
“Of course, I should have guessed. Let me guess—Southampton?”
Vivienne nods. “Something simple in the garden. Or maybe on the beach.”
Savannah pipes up. “She can do simple for her wedding. But as maid of honor, for her bachelorette party, I’m pulling out all the stops.”
Vivienne tugs at my collar and whispers, “Save me.”
My heart swells inside my chest. “Always.”
EPILOGUE 2
VIVIENNE
FIVE YEARS LATER
LABOR DAY
“Happy anniversary.” Lance’s gruff whisper ripples down my spine as his lips land on my neck, his tongue swirling over my pulse. I moan in pleasure, shifting my knee higher on the sheets and angling my hips back as my husband slides inside me.
I give a quick glance at the baby monitor perched on our nightstand, my heart clenching with happiness. Piper is lying flat on her back, tiny hands clasped like fists on either side of her perfect little face. Nearly six months old, she’s finally starting to sleep past sunrise.
I melt into Lance’s embrace, bliss stealing over my bones. We fit so well together, both in bed and in life. He is my husband, my greatest love, my best friend, and my biggest cheerleader. It hasn’t been easy juggling a growing business, a new baby, and a bi-coastal lifestyle, but Lance is always right beside me, through it all.
His arm winds around my belly, flexing as his hand dives between my legs, finding the right spot, right away. The man is blessed with perfect aim. And I am blessed, too. In more ways than I can count.
“Happy anniversary,” I echo, already breathless as we move in sync with each other, riding waves as powerful and wild as the ones crashing onto shore just a few yards away.
My toes curl, my hips roll, my breasts tingle. Lance holds me close as the tension spirals inside me, into a tight, twisted knot that finally snaps entirely, my whole body shuddering in relief. As I cry out, Lance buries his face in the damp hollow of my neck, muffling his own bellow of satisfaction.
I’m just catching my breath when Piper’s tiny wail erupts through the speaker of the baby monitor.
Lance presses a kiss to my cheek. “I’ve got her. You go back to sleep.”
I nestle back beneath the covers. “Best husband ever.”
“You know it,” he murmurs, throwing on sweatpants and a T-shirt and padding across the hall into our daughter’s room. Her cry immediately becomes a great, cackling laugh as Lance blows raspberries on her belly.
He’s right, I do. I definitely do.
If you enjoyed Lance and Vivienne’s sizzling summer romance in HAMPTONS HEARTBREAK, please take a moment to leave a review—I would be so grateful!