Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry. For everything,” he says. “I hope you can forgive me. I was an idiot. You and Brooks—you seem to make a perfect pair. Take care of each other, all right?”
Shit, now Greer’s crying too. “I love your son, Mr. Huntley, and I promise I’ll do my best to love him well.”
We’re all crying. Mom pulls me in for a side hug, resting her head against my chest.
“Please, call me Jim.”
I guffaw. “No one calls you Jim.”
“They do now.”
Dad finally lets Greer go. I immediately gather her back into my arms and kiss the top of her head.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” I tease.
Everyone laughs. Greer squints up at me. “Should we go back inside? Drink some beer, raise some money?”
“I say yes,” Dad says.
Greer untangles herself from me and loops her arm through Dad’s. “Let’s do it, Jim.”
“Let’s.”
Watching them head for the door, I offer my arm to Mom. “Never thought I’d see that.”
“I love her,” Mom replies. She gives me a squeeze. “I love how y’all love each other.”
“I’m happy, Mom.” And I mean it.
“I am too,” she says.
Shaking my head, I lead us toward the door. “Jim. That’s a first.”
“People are weird, aren’t they? And amazing.”
Dad and Greer are waiting for us just inside the entrance. The music is on again.
Adele. A remix of the song Greer and I skated to the first time we came to Kate’s together.
Greer smiles and holds out her hand. “Ready?”
I take it. “Ready.”
And then we skate off into the sunset. Otherwise known as a smelly roller rink filled with all our favorite people.
It’s the best fucking day of my life. Salty and sweet, just how it should be.
THE END
@WSBathroom 9/10
RECONCILED: Erotic Einstein and his dad, James Huntley, were seen laughing over drinks with Einstein’s lady love, Baked Goods Badass, and his mom at Charlotte’s hotspot Stagioni this past weekend #whenthemoonhitsyoureye
@WSBathroom 9/10
Over pizzas, pastas, and pinot grigio, the quartet apparently discussed plans for Einstein’s charity, Lizzie’s Lovefest. We’ve heard reports their first event raised over six figures!
@WSBathroom 9/10
Who knows what the future will hold for A&T and the folks who work there?
EPILOGUE
Greer
One year later
The Bald Head Island Marina comes into view just as the sun is setting over Cape Fear River.
Taking in a lungful of salty air, I grab Brooks’s hand and give it a quick, hard squeeze. “Wow, baby.”
“Beautiful, right?” He turns his head and smiles at me.
An explosion of butterflies fills my center. “Beautiful doesn’t begin to cover it.”
He’s dressed casually in a tee shirt, shorts, and sneakers. A pair of gold-rimmed Ray Bans cover his eyes and reflect the way the sun has set fire to the water. That same light catches on his stubble, a day overgrown, igniting it to a shade brighter than gold.
His dark blond hair stands up in the warm breeze. He knows I’m staring, and his smile grows, a handsome flash of white teeth and full lips.
How is this man mine?
We’ve been dating for a year—we’re celebrating our anniversary this weekend—and I still ask myself that question every damn day.
He’s so handsome it hurts sometimes.
“How’s the view?” he asks, all cockiness.
I press my shoulder into his chest, giving him a shove. This earns me a quick, hard kiss on the mouth.
My blood jumps. “Perfect.”
“It only gets better.”
“Really?” I arch a brow. “I’m not sure anything can beat this.”
He reaches for the cooler between us, brushing his knuckles against my nipple as he pulls out a pair of ice-cold jalapeño pale ales.
I bite my lip. He pops open the cans with an assured flick of his fingers and hands a beer to me.
“Just you wait, sweetheart. Cheers.” He taps his beer against mine. “Here’s to a year. Best one of my life.”
“Best one yet.” My turn to kiss him. “But hopefully there’s even better ones to come.”
“Hopefully? Definitely. Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”
We sip our beers and watch the sunset as a crew of sailors helps dock the ferry inside the marina. The boats in the slips nearby are hardly boats at all—they’re more like yachts. Sleek and shiny, they’re impressive, and impressively huge.
The past year hasn’t been without its bumps. Business has been booming at the bakery (yay!), and I’ve had to hire three new employees. Two of them have been excellent, while another I had to let go (bummer). The growing pains are real, but I’m grateful to be where I am.
Brooks recently got promoted to Managing Director. So did Ian, and he’s on the trading desk now, trading High-Grade bonds alongside Theo.
Lizzie’s Lovefest has taken off as well. Last weekend we hosted our second fundraiser at Kate’s, and we plan to make it an annual event from here on out. Thanks to some major donations from a few new folks, we doubled what we raised last year.
Speaking of those new donors—one of them is Brooks’s buddy Riley Dixon, who lives here on Bald Head, an island off the North Carolina coast that’s about a four-hour drive from Charlotte. He’s the one who gave Brooks the heads up about the symposium happening this weekend. The producer of our current podcast obsession, Buried Treasure & Missing Bodies: The Bald Head Island Story, is here to talk about the history behind her massive (and very murder-y) hit.