Epilogue

Epilogue

Eight years later

“Idon’t like what this time of year does to you.”

Dropping my paper plate into the kitchen trash can, I looked over my shoulder at Dane. “You don’t like to see me happy?”

“I don’t like to see you regress. Or to see the downstairs of our home looking like a spooky crypt.”

“I didn’t go that far.” Okay, maybe I did. There were pumpkins, foam tombstones, synthetic spiderwebs, and fake skeletons all around. Rubber bats and strings of ghost lights dangled from the ceiling. I even had inflatable props like scarecrows, witches, and grim reapers. My favorite thing was the bubbling cauldron that occasionally let out a wicked cackle or other spooky sound.

The truth was … I went crazy with the decorations every Halloween. Turning to fully face him, I said, “I regret nothing.”

“Was the smoke machine really necessary?” he griped.

I tilted my head. “You sure you’re not just being whiny because you’ve spilled red juice all over your shirt?”

“I didn’t spill it. Our daughter poured it on me because she thought it would be ‘awesome’ if it looked like I was covered in blood.”

I clamped my lips together to stifle a smile. “I’m assuming you mean Alicia.”

Our four-year-old daughter wasn’t the most placid of children. She insisted she was a princess, fought with the soul of a reincarnated MMA fighter, and had a mischievous streak that seemed embedded in every bone.

“She just wants you to look, you know … Halloween-y,” I defended. “You never dress up.”

“Because I’m not seven.”

“Adults dress up, too,” I reminded him, gesturing at my Maleficent outfit. I crossed to him and slid my hands up his chest. “It’s a shame you won’t. You’d look hot as a fireman.” I hummed as he kissed me, curling his arms tight around me. “But this particular holiday has grown on you—I’ll take that as a win.”

He grunted. “Come on, you’re missing this party you insisted on throwing.”

“It’s good to see you’re enjoying it,” I said dryly.

Dane kept one arm looped around my waist as he led me out of the kitchen. Walking into the living room, I had to smile at the sight of the kids dancing to the Ghostbusters theme song while playing Musical Statues.

Dane might not be too pleased by the effort I’d put into the party, but the children were sure enjoying themselves. They particularly liked the spread. Many of the foods were made to look like Halloween decorations such as ghosts, eyeballs, fingers, and mummies.

Drinking a glass of punch, Melinda frowned at the stain on Dane’s shirt. “What happened to you?”

He sighed. “Alicia.”

“Ah, I see,” Melinda said. Because, to be honest, no further explanation was needed—the kid got up to all kinds of shit.

“It’s a shame Junior didn’t come,” I said.

“He’s thirteen now,” she reminded me. “He considers himself too old to celebrate Halloween.”

“You can never be too old to celebrate Halloween.” I slid a meaningful look Dane’s way, but he missed it—his gaze was on our two daughters.

I wouldn’t say fatherhood changed Dane—he was still cold, ruthless, and calculating. But when around his children, those traits fell away. I’d initially worried that he’d struggle to allow himself to love and bond with them—such a thing wasn’t reflexive for Dane. But I’d worried for nothing. He’d taken one look at them the moment they were born and fell hard each time. He was a protective, hands-on dad who never let his children feel second to his job.

“My money’s on Addie,” he said into my ear. “She’ll win easy.”

If he thought I’d bet against him, he was wrong. Our eldest daughter, who was a year older than Alicia, was much like Dane. Calm, serious, a deep thinker, and ubercompetitive. She also had his dark eyes, and her sleek medium-length hair was the same deep black as his. Unlike him, Addison was also sweet as pie and great with animals.

Wyatt paused the music. The dancing kids froze, apart from Ashley and Tucker’s youngest boy, Cooper—he toddled around, too young to understand the game. He pulled hard on his older brother’s leg, but Kian didn’t budge. Little Sabrina, however, wobbled and then stumbled back a step.

Beside Wyatt, Simon winced and said, “Sorry, Sabrina, you’re out.”

Her eyes went wide as saucers. “I didn’t move. Mommy, tell him I didn’t move.”

“I would if it were true,” said Hanna with a smile.

Hanna had become accidentally pregnant with Sabrina after a one-night stand six years ago. The kid’s dad, Kyle, had been very involved during the pregnancy. He and Hanna had eventually become a couple, and they were cute as hell together—especially right now, dressed up as Mr. and Mrs. Incredible. Ashley and Tucker, who stood off to the side with them, had come dressed as Morticia and Gomez Adams.

The buzzer sounded just as the music restarted.

Dane checked his phone. “It’s Kent and Emma.”

I smiled. “Good, I was hoping they’d come.”

“I’ll let them in.” He kissed my temple and then left the room.

Melinda leaned into me. “I really like Emma.”

“So do I. She just ‘fits’ Kent in the best way.” Unlike his ex-wife. He hadn’t even tried to work things out with Jen, feeling too betrayed by all she’d done and concealed from him. She’d pestered him to forgive her for months. Hell, she’d even reached out to both Dane and I at one point, appealing for us to help her win Kent back.

“Emma’s so sweet I was convinced it had to be an act at first—I couldn’t see how anyone could truly be that nice,” said Melinda.

“She’s completely genuine. I’m glad he has her. I just wish he’d get over his hang-ups about marriage. Though I can understand why he’s shy about taking another walk down the aisle. It didn’t exactly end well last time.”

“I think he’ll make an honest woman of her at some point. I love how sweetly protective he is of her. He’s even more so now that she’s pregnant.”

Yes, and I figured a big reason for that was that his ex-wife kept calling and sending Emma letters. Jen had popped back onto the scene when she heard that his girlfriend of three years was pregnant. Luckily, Emma had more staying power than to be scared off by Jen’s antics.

I smiled as Dane re-entered the room with Kent and Emma. They weren’t wearing costumes, but I hadn’t expected them to. Kent was too serious for that. Emma wasn’t so serious, but she’d never dress up unless he did too—she wouldn’t want to make him feel bad.

“Thanks for coming,” I said.

Emma grinned. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Kent kissed my cheek and then scanned the room with his gaze. “Where are my girls? Ah.”

Just then, the music stopped again. Moments later, Alicia stomped off the makeshift dance floor with a put-out sigh after being declared “out,” making her blonde hair bop with each step. Spotting Kent, she dashed over and jumped into his arms. “Uncle Kent!”

“Don’t you look pretty in your princess gown.” He kissed her face and blew raspberries on her neck, making her giggle.

Kent was the doting uncle every kid wished they had, and I figured he’d make just as doting a father. He and Dane were somewhat closer these days and played a bigger part in each other’s lives.

Travis kept a low profile. We received cards from him on the holidays, but he rarely visited. He had, however, cleaned up his ways. Sort of. He didn’t gamble anymore, but he cheated on his oblivious fiancée, who I kind of liked and felt super sorry for.

Travis and Hope had divorced roughly the same time as Kent and Jen. Hope hadn’t made contact with any of us again. Owen—true to his word—had stayed away and ceased trying to separate me and Dane. Similarly, Heather had stopped playing games, but she’d made no attempt to improve her life or change her ways.

I smiled as Alicia led Emma over to the sofa, declaring she should sit and rest. “She’s a bossy little thing for sure,” I said.

Dane hummed. “I wonder where she gets that trait from.”

“I don’t.” I knew exactly who she got it from.

Ashley came over, her glass empty. “Anymore punch?”

“I’ll get some for you,” said Melinda, plucking the glass out of her hand. “I’m off to get more for myself.”

“Thanks, Melinda,” said Ashley.

Feeling something brush against my leg, I glanced down. “Dane, your owner’s back.”

He scowled as Blue then rubbed up against his leg. “Go to Addie,” he told her gruffly, but the feline just blinked up at him.

Right then, a cry came over the baby monitor in my hand.

“I’ll go,” said Dane, giving my hip a little squeeze.

It did not surprise me that Blue followed him. Dane was still her favorite person in the house, but Blue also loved being around Addison.

The music again stopped. Only Addison and Kian were left on the dance floor. Both were completely still, not even moving their eyes. But then Kian, who was balancing on one leg, suddenly lost said balance.

“Addie wins!” Simon declared.

Everyone clapped, with the exception of Kian.

“Uh-oh,” muttered Ashley. “His face is going all red.”

Because he hated to lose.

Kian huffed. “I should have won, Wyatt.” He jabbed a finger at Addison. “She kept moving—you just didn’t see.”

Apparently offended on behalf of her sister, Alicia got right up in his face—which wasn’t easy to do, considering she was a good few inches shorter. “That’s a lie!”

Ashley groaned and looked at me. “Do we step in?”

Once upon a time, we’d done it immediately, but nowadays … “I’ve kind of given up on trying to stop them from locking horns.” The two did not get along. Honestly, they argued so often it was unreal.

“Take it back!” Alicia yelled at him, her hands balled up into fists.

“Or what, shorty?” he taunted.

Tucker quickly crossed to them and tried to smooth over the situation. He was such an optimist, bless him.

Kian glared up at his father. “I should have won! Even Frodo knows that.”

Alicia gasped at his nickname for her. And, yep, she leapt on him.

“Dammit.” I crossed the room, intending to intervene, but my father beat me to it and pulled her away. I gave her my usual “it’s wrong to hit people” talk while she gave me her usual “I know, I know, but he’s such a loser” answer in justification.

After I sent her off to play with Sabrina, I turned to my father, who was shaking his head and smiling.

“Why is it that they always end up fighting?” he asked.

“Both want to be top dog,” I said. “Kian figures that, as the oldest, it should be him. Alicia sees no reason why being four should stop her from doing anything—even driving.”

Simon snorted. “She’s a Davenport through and through.”

I nodded. “Pure truth.”

Right then, Addison skipped over in her devil outfit. “I won, Mommy!” she told me, her eyes bright.

“I know, and I’m super proud of you.” I scooped her up and kissed her cheek. “Well done.”

She looped her arms around my neck. “Where’s Daddy?”

“He went upstairs to get your brother. Ah, here he is now.”

Dane walked into the room, carrying Oliver Hugh Davenport, who I’d dressed in a pumpkin suit, much to his father’s consternation.

Addison’s face lit up. “Can I hold him again? And feed him? And burp him?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Yay!” Alicia shrieked, running over. “Ollie’s here! Ollie’s here! Ollie’s here!”

Dane glanced at me. “No more sugar for her tonight.”

Alicia curled her body around Dane’s leg. “He’s just so little, Daddy. I love how he smells. It makes me want to eat him.”

“I’m glad you restrain yourself,” said Dane.

Before I even had the chance to try to hold my son, my father carried him away—earning himself a frown from Wyatt, who’d also tried to take him. Melinda shoved a glass in Ashley’s hand and then followed them, clearly also wanting to get her hands on Oliver.

Sidling up to me again, Ashley cleared her throat. “Alicia, Kian would like to apologize for calling you Frodo.” She gently nudged her son. “Go on.”

“Sorry,” he bit out.

Alicia sniffed, releasing her father’s leg. “Apology accepted,” she said, as gracious and haughty as any royal.

“Now you apologize for hitting him,” I told her.

She looked like she might argue, but then she turned to him and said, “Sorry.”

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re supposed to say, ‘apology accepted.’”

Instead, he snickered.

She looked at me, her eyes flaring. “Mommy, he didn’t accept my sorry.”

“He did,” Ashley cut in. “Didn’t you, Kian?”

He snorted. “No.”

Alicia clenched her little fists and leaned toward him. “Then I’m not sorry anymore.”

“And I don’t care,” he yelled.

“Because you’re a goof-trooper!”

I quickly separated the two. “You both have a choice. You can say one nice thing to each other, or you can say nothing at all.”

Unsurprisingly, they both snapped their mouths shut.

Carrying Cooper, Tucker crossed to us. “Kian, get over here and stop winding up four-year-old girls.” With that, he led his son away.

Ashley smiled down at Alicia. “You look so beautiful in that dress. Which princess is your favorite?”

Alicia’s face scrunched up, like the question was idiotic. “Me.”

Ashley’s lips parted. “Well of course.”

“Aren’t I the prettiest princess, Daddy?” she asked, either oblivious to or uncaring about the juice on her dress, the wonky tiara, the chocolate all over her face, and the fact that she only wore one shoe.

Dane nodded. “Of course you are, baby.”

She beamed at him and lifted her arms. “Kisses!”

Dane obligingly lifted her and accepted the many kisses she feathered over his face, leaving smears of chocolate all over him.

Addison wriggled in my arms. “I want to go see Ollie.”

“Me, too,” declared Alicia.

Dane and I lowered our daughters to the floor, who both then skipped away.

He turned to me, wearing his classic unimpressed expression. “Just how much chocolate do I have on my face?”

“Only a little,” I fibbed.

“It’s not nice to lie, you know,” he grumbled, wiping at his cheek.

I smiled. “You can’t fool me. I know you’re happy.”

His expression softened, and he looked both sober and gentle at the same time. “I don’t have a single reason not to be anymore, do I?”