have never met.
Ever took the seat next to me and turning back to Rosalyn, I forced a smile. “We,” I began, rephrasing, “would like to ask you something.”
Just as I felt like I was going to be sick again, I felt Ever’s hand on my protruding belly and our daughter growing inside. I looked at him, and he smiled his encouragement. I was so afraid. Afraid that I was asking too much and afraid of what it might do to her. I didn’t want to be responsible for Rosalyn’s first relapse in years. We were so close, for the first time, to a real mother and daughter relationship. I didn’t want to mess that up, but I knew of no other way to finally bridge the gap between us. Something more concrete than a mere olive branch. A foundation.
“Four,” Rosalyn said, sensing my trepidation and taking my trembling hand. “I’ve given you no reason to believe me, but…I want you to know that it’s going to be okay. I’m here, and I won’t fall apart on you ever again.”
Ever’s hand drifted down to my thigh, giving it an encouraging squeeze. There was so much love and strength packed into such a simple gesture. It was like he’d released all of the pent-up air trapped inside of my lungs. I held my mother’s gaze and felt my shaking body settle, seeing the assurance there.
“We wanted to ask if you’d name our baby?”
And they all lived happily ever after…
The crew huddled together outside the hospital room, eagerly waiting for Bee to give birth. It was the last child any of them would ever have. Well into their thirties, their careers, and their family life, the friends were all pretty damn sure they were done reproducing.
Tyra and Vaughn stood together next to River, who was holding Raven, his sleeping baby sister, in his arms. After fifteen years of living in Boston, Tyra and Vaughn had finally moved their family back to Blackwood Keep. Tyra, after completing her fellowship, was offered a position as a heart surgeon at the Susannah Blackwood Medical Center. Vaughn, on the other hand, decided to hang up his cleats and, with his mother’s help, was now thinking of ways to commandeer Blackwood Keep from his corrupt family.
Wren and Lou were still living in Sunset Bay and now had two kids of their own, Luke and Lucy. Unfortunately, Lou had insisted that both of their names sound like hers.
Four and Ever were still living in Blackwood Keep. They’d made the Manor, as Four still called it, their home. It had been a gift from Thomas, who was still retired in Ireland with Evelyn…and Sean. None of the friends knew why Four and Ever decided on having only one child, but no one could deny that their daughter was well-loved. Erica was a perfect combination of the two in every way. Four no longer raced and instead built a track in Blackwood Keep for anyone looking to follow their dreams or have a good time. Ever now headed his own architectural firm.
Jamie often hired Ever’s firm for the hotels and resorts he was still putting up all around the globe. Bee now had her own makeup and lingerie line. How she did it with Jameson and their four boys running her ragged no one could quite pinpoint, but they were all proud and happy for her. As predicted, their brood was all spaced a year apart with the exception of their fifth, who’d eluded them for years. Jamie and Bee also moved back to Blackwood Keep before the birth of their second child. Unfortunately, they did name him Jameson John Jr. Lyric was the oldest with their twins, Saint and Justus, being the youngest—until today. So confident in their fifth child being a boy, as well, Jamie had foregone learning the sex and had been walking around with his chest poked out, more insufferable than usual, for the entire pregnancy.
A cry drifted into the hall from the hospital room, washing away the exhaustion from all of the friends and the families they had made. They’d been waiting for hours.
“Congratulations on your new bundle of joy, Mr. Buchanan.”
“What the—yo, doc, where’s his dick?” Jamie yelped.
Bee’s voice, though laden with exhaustion, also held traces of humor and triumph. “Baby, I’d like you to meet Summer. Your daughter.”
Three years. That’s how long I’ve been writing these characters so not only does it hurt to say goodbye, but I’ve accumulated quite a few people to thank. I’ll start with the team who made this book bearable to read. Rogena and Colleen, can you believe I made my deadline this time? It must be snowing in hell. Thank you for your editing powers and finding the rhyme and reason to my madness. Amanda, you’ve been battling some tough issues this past year and still you managed to make my dreams come true with the covers and anything else I needed. Thank you for being a friend and shit-talking with me when I needed it. Stacey, you’re amazing as always. Every time I hold one of my paperbacks in my hands, I’m in awe of you. You’re the best in the business and anyone who says differently can fight me. Thank you for being patient with me. I seem to only know what I need after I’ve sent the book to you. I’d like to thank Tijuana, Sunny, and Sarah for just being there when I need you. I don’t ever have to think twice before flooding your inbox with voice messages and corny jokes. Janese, thank you for coming through at the last minute. Jamie, thank you for keeping Reiderville together whenever I’m off writing. I hope you both find some peace soon. And thank you to Reiderville for constantly giving me the courage to write more books. I’d be nothing without you. Last but not least, I’d like to thank my family and friends for being my tempered glass—not easily broken.