Epilogue

Fisher

"Those ridiculously pricedcoolers are flying off the shelves!" Dad looked gobsmacked.

I rang up our latest order, which included the cooler that had gone viral on the Internet. The customer, a guy in his mid-twenties, said earnestly, "It survived a fire! You can't beat that kind of review."

With our new payment gateway system that took credit cards, the transaction took only seconds. Which was good, because there was a line behind him. An honest-to-god line in our little lake supply shop.

"Oh, I almost forgot to ask for my token!" the guy said. "We have to turn all these in for prizes, but to be honest, it's just been fun exploring this part of the lake."

Dad handed him the token. "Well, make sure you check out the food festival before you leave." He patted my shoulder. "My son helped organize it."

"Watch out, or I might never leave!"

I couldn't let that comment go without a reply. "Hey, we've got a resort project under way. Check back next summer. It's going to be awesome."

"Nice! I'll definitely look into it."

He moved along, and the next customer stepped up with a collection of snacks and water, then the next with one of the new, flashy rods we'd added to our inventory.

The Dock Hop was a raging success—at least for our shop. We'd had an influx of customers all day. They came in waves, with periods of rest between them. Swallow Adventures was making runs for tourists without boats who wanted to participate, and it took time to shuttle them back and forth along the lake.

When we finally had a breather, Dad checked the screen on the tablet that had replaced our old-ass cash register. He was still getting the hang of all the menus, but it was pretty simple to use. Soon, we'd also be rolling out dock-side pickup, as well.

"That's got to be our biggest take in a single day…ever."

"Check out the fuel ratings," I said with a laugh. "We probably didn't need any fancy inventory after all. Everyone is fueling up on their stop."

"Nah, you were right. We've nearly sold out of the coolers. I really didn't think folks would want to shop much, given all the stops…"

"One good thing about tourists with more money than sense, huh?" I joked with a wink.

The door chimed as it opened, and I braced for another wave of customers, but a frazzled-looking Hudson stepped inside. "We've got a problem over at the food festival. Do you have a minute to run interference? Pearl and Ruth Marie won't ever listen to anyone but you."

I hesitated. "It's been pretty busy here."

Dad nudged me. "It's all right. Go help Hudson. I can handle running my own dang shop. Er, I mean, our shop."

That was a big step for him. Or big steps, really.

Dad had recently added me as a co-owner of the shop, rather than an employee, and we were slowly navigating a new working dynamic.

But it was also a big freaking step for him to offer Hudson help and manage our newer computer system without me there to problem solve.

"All right. Call me if anything comes up."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "I don't need babysitting."

I joined Hudson at the door, stealing a kiss before we headed out. "How bad is it?"

"Well…you know how kids sometimes start food fights in the cafeteria?"

"Oh no."

"Worse than that."

I gave a groaning laugh. Why did it not surprise me that those women were troublemakers?

Hudson and I started across the marina toward the outdoor market, where a big banner hung between two columns. It read Swallow Fest with a little cartoon bird opening its beak to eat a worm.

Boats bobbed in the lake: smaller speedboats with couples, pontoons filled with bigger parties, and everything in between. My favorite part was reading the names on the side of the boats though: Whose Shore Daddy? Midlife Crisis At Work, Ship For Brains, and my favorite, She Got the House.

Our quiet marina buzzed with activity. Groups of tourists disembarked on the docks, while others walked down our streets to explore local businesses, and not just at the waterfront, but farther into town, thanks to the way the Dock Hop required them to collect all tokens to enter for the grand prize.

I stopped and stared.

"What's wrong?" Hudson asked.

I shook my head, bemused. "Nothing. Just…look at our town. It doesn't look like the same place. It looks so vibrant." I grinned up at him. "You did that."

He slung an arm over my shoulders, and we started walking again. "No, we did that. I'd have never gotten this event off the ground if it weren't for you. People weren't ready to listen to me."

We passed under the Swallow Fest sign, and Tate Willard from the Catch of the Day called out. "Hey, Hudson! Fisher! We've got some catfish bites if you'd like to try them!"

"We've got a mess to sort out, but we'll circle back."

"Hey, Hudson, I've got a question when you have a minute!" Claudine, one of the servers at The Drunken Worm, called.

"You got it," Hudson called.

"Looks like you're Mr. Popular now, huh?" I teased.

Hudson chuckled, sounding a little embarrassed. "They're happy with how the event is going, that's all."

I nudged him. "I'm glad they see the value in it now. You worked hard to make it happen."

We carried on toward the confrontation I could already see in front of Ruth Marie's booth. She and Pearl stood hissing like cats, both with their backs up.

Ruth Marie had red smeared through her hair. "Is that…"

"Tomato jam," Hudson confirmed.

I shuddered. "So gross."

"Don't let Pearl hear you, or you might wear it next."

At the women's feet, glass sparkled in the sun, scattered among peaches and, I was guessing, brandy.

"—ego the size of Texas!" Ruth Marie cried.

"I've won twenty blue ribbons for—"

"Oh, if I had a ribbon now, I'd use it to strang—"

"Hey, ladies!" I called out as brightly as I could, interrupting before any death threats could land. "Looks like we had a little accident here."

Ruth Marie scoffed. "It was no accident. Pearl threw jam at me like a child!"

"Well, this devil woman hurled a whole jar of brandied peaches onto the ground! That's a safety hazard. What will the tourists think, Ruth Marie, huh? Shame on you!"

Judging by the couple of tourists standing by with the phones raised, I was pretty sure they thought an old-lady catfight was going to be great for TikTok views.

"We've been over this," Hudson said. "Things were said, but for the sake of the food festival, we need to work together."

"I can't work with her!" Ruth Marie cried. "She told everyone my apple pie jam was bland and tasteless!"

"Well, she told customers my brandied peaches were made by an amateur!"

"Which is true. It's the first you've ever made. I couldn't let folks think I'd made them! I have a reputation to think about."

Pearl huffed. "Your reputation is that you're a—"

"Okay!" I interrupted again. "This is obviously my fault."

Everyone turned disbelieving eyes on me. I nodded. "Yeah, I made a mistake, Pearl, when I asked you to serve Ruth Marie's apple pie jam."

Pearl sniffed. "Yes, you did."

"And Ruth Marie, you shouldn't have to serve Pearl's peaches either."

"Thank you!"

"It was my mistake to think that in the spirit of cooperation and for the organization of the food fest you could serve each other's samples so that all the jam and all the candied fruit stayed together. I was wrong." I sighed and shook my head. "We'll just have to remove both items from the festival."

"What? But I don't want to do that," Pearl protested.

"Most of it's on the ground anyway, isn't it?" Hudson asked.

"I've got more jars of peaches! I made extra just for the fair."

"And I've got a lot of apple pie jam over here," Ruth Marie added. "I couldn't let Pearl outdo me."

It was just as I'd suspected. In the spirit of their childish feud, both women had made an excess of the one item that encroached on their rival's territory.

"Well, unless you can think of another solution…"

Pearl and Ruth Marie shifted like naughty schoolchildren, exchanged a look, and seemed to come to an agreement.

"We'll clean this up," Ruth Marie said.

"I'll serve the stupid apple pie jam if Ruth Marie serves the peaches."

"And no more insulting each other or each other's wares?"

Pearl frowned. "I didn't insult her, per se…"

"Pearl!" Hudson snapped.

"I was just stating facts, but okay, fine! I'll sugarcoat the truth."

I turned to hide my eye roll. Ruth Marie sighed. "Well, I'm always nice."

Pearl snorted. "Suck-up."

"Okay, I'm trusting you both to keep your word," I said. "Hudson and I don't have time to run interference, and it'll be the lunch hour soon. This fest will be packed. Don't waste this opportunity, please."

"Sorry, Fisher," Ruth Marie said.

"You're right, as usual," Pearl said. "There's already been such a great turnout for the event. It's really something."

I smiled. "Tourists aren't all bad, huh?"

Ruth Marie chuckled. "They're not bad for my pocketbook, that's for sure!"

Pearl drew up straighter. "I've set sales records, probably twice as much as—"

I gave her a stern look, and she paused, then fumbled out, "Twice as much as ever before, I was going to say!"

I nodded. "That's great news, Pearl. Okay, we're going to get going. Play nice!"

Hudson wrapped an arm around my waist as we made our way back toward the entrance. "You really do have the magic touch with those women."

I snickered. "I think you mean children. I thought you and my dad were bad."

Hudson grinned. "If we had food stands close together, I have no doubt Boone would have egged me."

I laughed. "Sad but true."

"Well, we're already here and it's nearly lunch. Shall we sample some of this great food?"

"I could eat."

We spent the next thirty minutes making the rounds. We picked up fried catfish bites from Catch of the Day, grabbed some churros from The Drunken Worm for dessert while Hudson sorted out their problem, then laid out a few extra bucks for a full serving of the meat sundaes from The Rusty Hook. The name sounded gross, but I'd had the beef layered with mashed potatoes and gravy before, and it was pretty tasty.

We carried our haul back toward the marina.

"Want to eat at the store or my office?" Hudson asked.

"Office first, then I'll go cover the store for a while so Dad can enjoy the food fest too."

"Great. I'm sure Sawyer could use a break from holding down the fort. He's been wrangling boat runs while I've been running all over town."

"Sawyer's kind of your go-to guy, huh? When you can't do something yourself."

"He is." Hudson caught my look. "I've already offered him a promotion and a raise."

"Can you afford that?"

Hudson shrugged. "I'm less worried about profit margins now that we have a long-term plan to fold into the resort project. I'd rather pay him what he's worth."

"That's…really decent of you."

"Am I decent?" Hudson joked. "That's not what you said last night when my tongue was on your—"

"Hey, guys!" Sawyer's voice came from behind us, startling me into a jump. "Thanks for coming by, but please stop talking."

Hudson colored. He wasn't normally one to overshare about our sex life, but I couldn't resist giving Sawyer shit.

"He's very good with his tongue though. We could demonstrate sometime if—"

"Lalala, can't hear you!" Sawyer cried.

Hudson laughed. "Fisher, behave."

"That's not what you said last night," I singsonged.

Sawyer thrust an envelope at Hudson. "I've gotta piss like a racehorse. I'm taking my break."

Hudson took the envelope, glancing down at it in confusion. "What's this?"

"It came certified mail, so I signed for it. Forged your signature actually so you wouldn't have to go track it down later. Figured it might be important."

"Thanks, Sawyer. I'll stick around here for the next couple of hours. Go enjoy the fest."

Sawyer grinned. "I planned on it anyway. Seemed only fair after you two traumatized me with your gay sex talk."

I grinned. "Straight guys are always so fun to fuck with."

"There's probably some sort of law against sexually harassing my employee, you know."

"Eh…he's not really your employee."

At Hudson's raised eyebrow, I shrugged. "He's family. You gained a whole gaggle of kids when you hooked up with me, Hudson. Didn't you figure that out yet?"

"That explains why Cash keeps sleeping in my boats," he said dryly.

"He what?" I shook my head as we entered his office. "I swear. It might be time to have a friendervention for that guy."

Hudson pulled his chair out from behind his desk so we could sit side-by-side and use the desk as a table to lay out our food. I'd already scarfed half my meat sundae on the way over, but I snagged a churro, crunching happily while Hudson tore open the envelope.

"This is from Karen," he said. "I hope there's not a death threat inside."

I snorted and jabbed him with an elbow. "She's not that bad."

"I know." He pulled out a small note and skimmed it, then pulled out a cashier's check. "Holy shit."

The note read:

Hudson, sorry this took so long. The merger involved a lot of legalities, and the money was tied up. But here's your share of the stocks we signed over.Buy Fisher something nice ;) Karen

I glanced over at the check, then did a double-take at the six figures. "Whoa. That's a heck of a payday."

Hudson stared down at it. "I had no idea it would be so much. She mentioned there'd be some money, but I didn't expect this."

"I guess the stock value went up since you got it, huh?"

"Guess so," he murmured.

I grasped his arm, excited. "Hudson, you know what this means?"

"I've got a nice little nest egg?"

"Well, yeah! You could buy out the Addisons and run Swallow Adventures however you want."

"I could…" Hudson seemed hesitant.

"You don't want to do that?"

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it," he admitted. "I've really been looking forward to being part of the resort."

"You could still contract with them," I said. "Skylar wouldn't just cut you out."

"It's not that." Hudson put the check on the desk and turned to face me properly. "Being part of the resort means I can enjoy running boats without the headache of managing the business on my own."

"You'd still manage the fleet though, wouldn't you?"

He nodded. "But it'd be scaled back, and it'd be less of a time commitment too."

"Hud, if this is you still worried about being a workaholic, I'm not concerned about that. I love you, and we'll work around your schedule together."

"No." He leaned in to kiss my forehead. "You've gotten that message through my thick skull. This is about what I really want. What makes me happy." He hesitated. "Would it bother you if I chose not to run my own business even though I can?"

"No, of course not."

"You're so ambitious. I'd understand if you couldn't relate. I just want to enjoy my life at the lake, my time with you, and maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"I want to use this money to buy a proper house for us. The houseboat was great for what I wanted when I first came here, but now…I want us to have a permanent home, without the need to get there by boat, you know?"

"Hudson, are you sure? Houses aren't cheap."

He tapped the check. "As luck would have it, I've come into a little money. What do you say, Fisher? Will you pick out a house with me? I know we already live together, but this will be more permanent. Our house. Because once we lay out all this cash, we're never moving again."

Hudson looked apprehensive, as if unsure of my answer.

"You silly man, of course I say yes! I'd love to pick out a house with you. I plan to live with you forever, so what else would I say?"

I climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, and kissed him stupid. "I love you, Hudson. You won't ever be rid of me. But I have one condition."

"Anything," he murmured between kisses.

"You let me pay my share," I said. "I'm co-owner of the store, and Skylar offered me the same consultant's fee that I got from the Wexler assholes."

Even better, Skylar had assured me it wouldn't interfere with my day-to-day work at Bait Swallow, so I could have my cake and eat it too: run the family shop and help shape Swallow Cove's future.

"But I've already got all this money," Hudson said. "It's not really necessary."

"I want us to buy this house together. For it to be ours."

"Anything that's mine is yours," he countered.

"I know, but we're partners, right? Equals?"

"Always, Fisher."

"Then let me do this. Save some of that money for something fun. Something just for you. You've earned it. And let's build our future together."

"Okay, sweetheart." Hudson drew me down for a sweet, lingering kiss. "I'd love nothing more than to invest in a home and a life with you."

"For at least thirty years," I added.

He pulled back. "Why thirty?"

"I hear that's how long the standard mortgage term lasts."

He nipped my bottom lip in retribution. "Nice try, but you're never getting rid of me. Not in one year, and not in thirty. You're mine, Fisher Riggins, for life."

I grinned, loving his possessive tone. Hudson would let me go if I ever really wanted that, but he was willing to fight for me now, and that was all the reassurance my heart would ever need.

"Then I guess I'll just have to stay with you," I said with an impish smile, as if that wasn't what I'd wanted all along.

What I'd wanted for years.

And yet when I'd lain in my bed as a teen and fantasized about Hudson, I'd been so unimaginative. I'd dreamed of his touch and his taste, but I'd never grasped the depth of his heart. Never seen just how well he'd take care of me, while listening and respecting me too. Never knew all the tiny ways he'd impact my life that had nothing at all to do with sex and everything to do with trust, sincerity, and loyalty.

Hudson was my forever, and I couldn't wait to see all the ways we changed along with Swallow Cove.

The future was going to be incredible.

I just knew it.

But what is going on with Brooks and Skylar? They've been awfully cozy behind the scenes…

Find out in Pretty Buoy, Book 2 of Swallow Cove.