“I should’ve told you about Theo,” he says without hesitation. “He has been threatening me with this on and off for years, but I never had anything he could hold over my head. I did my job and I came home. He could never plant the seed with anyone. I should’ve warned you . . . been honest about our past.”
“I mean, my mom is insane, but Theo is a sociopath. I can’t imagine it’s a subject you’d want to broach with anyone.” I don’t blame him at all. Plus, we were so new, and look how I reacted at the first hint of trouble. I didn’t exactly earn his trust. “But we should probably tell each other about any other crazy family members we might have before they come out of hiding. I think I have a third cousin who has been on the receiving end of a couple restraining orders.”
He looks at the ceiling like he’s thinking really hard. “My great-aunt thinks she can talk to the dead. She’s harmless, but she says some wild-ass stuff and then blames it on the ‘spirits.’”
I throw my head back laughing. “That’s not crazy, that’s amazing and I need to meet her.”
“Well”—his smile turns serious—“the season is over and my parents have been hounding me about finally meeting the girl who’s stolen all my attention these last few months.”
“Meeting the parents?” I look up at him, my smile threatening to crack my cheeks. “That sounds pretty serious.”
“Very serious.” He nods.
“So does that mean we’re back together?”
He brings his mouth to mine, stopping just before they touch. “Brynn, it means that I’m never letting you go again.”
I don’t wait for him to kiss me.
I lean in and kiss him, the only man I ever want to kiss for the rest of forever.
Epilogue
“I cannot believe you have me sitting in a box for the championship game,” Marlee moans. “And with the enemy at that!”
“I can’t believe it took a fucking bartender to convince you to sit in a goddamn box!” Donny, my new favorite person—right below Maxwell’s great-aunt Glenda—says.
“I own an entire business, Donny,” I say for the thousandth time. “How would you like it if I called you a paid groupie?”
He grabs his gin and tonic that he insisted I make and takes a giant gulp. “I’d say that’s very fucking accurate.”
“Well,” Marlee interjects. “I’m still pissed at the bartender.”
“We’ll have a reception or something one day,” I reassure her, even though I’ve done this every day for the last two months and she still gives me shit. “We got a wild hair, what were we supposed to do?”
“Ummm, I don’t know? How about not get married at a freaking courthouse!” she shouts, and then cringes when Posie starts to stir from her nap. “Shoot, sorry, Poppy,” she whisper yells, even though Posie is decked out in the bedazzled noise-canceling headphones TK ordered for her. “But if she does wake up, you know who to give her to.” She starts pointing to herself.
“You’ll have to fight him for her.” Poppy nods her head at TK, who’s chasing after Bea and Van, Marlee and Gavin’s two kids. Bea is running around with her curly pigtails flying and all the crystals on her custom jersey dress shining. She’s four and her outfit is honestly better than mine.
“Nah, I brought a stash of Dum Dums to bribe them with. I’ll have them sugared up and on TK’s hip all day.” Marlee winks, but I know she’s serious. All she talks about is wanting another baby, so seeing Posie is too much for her to handle.
“Speaking of . . .” Naomi takes the seat next to me. “Any baby news of your own?”
I nearly choke on my own spit. “No. No, no, no. Someday, just not today. Definitely no.”
Maxwell and I have talked about kids and they are definitely in the future, we just want time being us before we bring little humans into the world. My dad has been on our backs constantly about it and so has Maxwell’s family . . . well, not his brother. After Theo lost his job when all the details came out about what he’d done, he left Colorado and we haven’t heard from him again. We’re both totally okay with that.
HERS is at the top of its game right now. Every time I’m sure we’ve peaked and are going to start seeing a decline in sales, things miraculously get even better. I’ve been working my butt off to keep it new and fresh and not just ride the coattails of Love the Player, and it’s paying off. And when news that Maxwell and I eloped went public, people flipped out. We had waitlists for two full weeks before it started dying down, but even now it’s crazy.
Paisley keeps sending me pictures of the bar today, and each time it makes me want to cry. Women of all different shapes, sizes, and colors sporting their football jerseys, holding their drinks in the air, and having the best time at my bar.
“Brynnnnn!” Eloise calls my name and holds up a bottle of vodka. “Can you please make me something that doesn’t burn my throat? Donny said you taught him a recipe, but I think he gave me vodka straight.”
“Vodka with a splash of gin, drink of fuckin’ champs,” Donny yells and I cringe. “Get a little hair on that fucking chest of yours!”
“I’m a woman! I don’t want chest hair!” Eloise yells back at him.
“You’re not even drinking that!” I throw a cherry at his head and immediately apologize when every parent in the box goes on high alert for the potential food fight I just started.
I mix up something fast for Eloise, and I’m tucking the bottle back into its spot when Marlee yells, “The fog machines are starting up!”
I skip down the few steps to my seat and make it just in time to hear the announcer start to speak. “Football fans!” His voice echoes through the speakers. “Are you ready to meet your champion teams?”
The stadium goes wild. All these fans, the most die-hard of all, willing to fly to another state and spend ludicrous amounts of money to watch a single football game. The floor beneath me starts to rattle, and the energy inside our box is so supercharged that if I started seeing sparks, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Then, on the JumboTron in front of us, the Mustangs come into view as they walk from the locker room and onto the biggest stage of their career. The starters’ faces pop up in the corner of the screen as they tell everyone watching what position they play and what school they went to. Happiness blooms inside of me as I see my friends’ husbands. Then the one I’ve been waiting for comes on. And maybe it’s just me—I do tend to be a tiny bit biased—but the stadium quiets. As if what he says means the most, like they are aware of exactly the kind of man he is and know that any chance to hear him speak should be taken full advantage of.