Epilogue Blakely

EPILOGUE BLAKELY

One Year Later

Blakely

“You’re cheating!” I toss my cards down on the table and glare at my boyfriend, who is currently getting a high-five from my little brother and cousin Caden. “I’m the Kincaid family Uno champion,” I remind them.

“Sorry, baby, you might be losing that title,” Oliver quips.

“I’m done.” I scoot back from the table and go in search of my mom. I find her and my aunts in the kitchen putting the final touches on dinner.

“Why the long face?” Mom asks.

I point over my shoulder. “They’re cheating.” I pout, crossing my arms over my chest. I even consider stomping my foot for good measure but decide against it. I’m twenty-four years old. Not four.

Mom laughs. “I’m sure they’re not cheating.”

“Yeah, well, Ollie better watch himself. He might end up sleeping on the couch.”

“Who’s sleeping on the couch?” Uncle Orrin asks, joining us.

“Oliver,” I grumble.

“Uh-oh, what did he do?” Orrin asks.

“He won at Uno,” his wife, Jade, explains with a chuckle.

“Damn, does he not know that we all let you win?”

“What?” I ask, outraged. “You do not. Take it back.” I glare at him. He doubles over laughing.

“Come and eat!” Aunt Alyssa calls.

That’s all it takes for everyone to abandon their conversations and whatever they were doing and migrate to the kitchen area to make their plates. We do it buffet style. The large kitchen island is covered with dishes, more than we can eat, and there are a lot of us. Once everyone has made their plate, we all take a seat at the table. It’s actually several large tables all pressed together to make one long seating area. Aunt Jordyn built this building, which we all call Kincaid Central, with her inheritance. She claims she wanted a place where our large family could all be together comfortably. It’s massive, but we fill the space well.

“This year, I think we should start a new tradition,” my dad says. “I think we should go around the table and tell everyone what we’re thankful for.” There are a few groans from my male cousins, but the rest of us are on board. We’re a close family, so nothing that anyone says will be a shock.

I lean into Oliver’s shoulder. “You don’t have to,” I tell him. Our large, loud family can be overwhelming, and while he’s been around for a year now, we can be a lot.

He turns to me and grins. “What? You think I don’t have anything to be thankful for?”

“No, I just know we can be too much.”

“Baby, I love you and your big-ass family. They don’t scare me. There’s only one thing in this world that I’m afraid of.”

“What’s that?”

“Losing you.” He leans in and pecks the corner of my mouth.

“Never,” I assure him. My world ends and begins with this man. The moment he agreed to be merry with me, he sealed his fate.

My dad is sitting at the head of the table. Mom is to his right, and I’m to his left. Followed by Oliver and his parents. My mom insisted they come, since it’s just the two of them. They’ve attended many events with us over the last year. They’re used to our crazy by now—at least I hope they are.

Dad starts by saying he’s thankful for the love of his family and nods to Mom. One after another, my family speaks of something they are thankful for. Some are funny, some are sentimental, and some are predictable, but regardless, it’s in their hearts, and just hearing each person speak has my heart full. I’m blessed to have such a large, loving family. I know others are not that fortunate.

Finally, it gets to Oliver, and he stands. I glance up at him, not sure what he’s doing. No one has stood. I give him a questioning look, and he winks at me.

“I’m thankful for so many things,” Oliver says. “The food, the company, my family.” He smiles down at me. “My new family.”

Aww, this man. He makes my insides all gooey.

“I know my last name isn’t Kincaid,” he says, and everyone laughs, “but I think I’ll adopt the family motto, anyway.”

A chorus of “Good man” and “Hell yes, you are,” along with a few others, are called out, but I don’t bother to see who’s commenting. I keep my eyes on Oliver because his are locked on me.

“Blake, I love you.”

Oohs and aahs from the ladies ring out.

“I promise you that I’ll work hard every damn day to show you just how much. I’ll love you harder tomorrow than I do today, and even more ten years from now.”

My heart is racing, and when he drops to one knee, it might just pound right out of my chest. On instinct, I turn to face him. When my dad leans over and whispers, “Stand up, sweetheart,” I do as I’m told. With shaking legs, I stand.

“Blakely Kincaid, I love you. You brought me back to life. I was existing in a world of black and white until the day you waltzed into my office. I never want to know what a day in my life without you in it feels like. I can’t remember my time before you.” He pauses, letting his words sink in.

I know he’s moved on from his past, but this, his words… they confirm for me that his past no longer defines him.

“I want to spend every day of my life working hard to love you harder. Blake, baby, will you be married with me?” He winks, and I toss my head back in laughter.

“I asked you first,” I tease.

“Then you should definitely already be wearing this,” he says, opening the small ring box. “But I need to hear you say it.”

“Like she’s going to say no,” Beckham says. “Just put the poor guy out of his misery. I’m starving.”

“Beck.” My dad’s tone is laced with warning.

“What do you say, Blake? Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.” I nod. “There’s nothing I want more.”

Oliver removes the ring from the box before sliding it on my finger. There are tears in my eyes, so I can’t see it well, but I know it’s perfect. Anything he’s chosen for me would be perfect because it was chosen out of love. He stands, cups my face in his hands, and kisses me like our families are not watching.

“All right, I gave you my blessing, but I don’t need to see that,” Dad grumbles.

Oliver laughs. “Thank you, Declan. I’ll cherish her always.”

“I know you will, son. Welcome to the family.”

“Let’s eat!” Beckham calls out. Everyone laughs and digs into their food, while I stare at the ring on my left hand.

“We’re getting married,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else.

“You’re my forever, Blakely Kincaid.”

“Forever.”