The Worst Wedding Date
: Epilogue

After a very succinct and honestly surprising press release from Kingston Photo Gifts announcing that Gail and Charles’s daughter was dating a newly-retired GrippaPeen star, and they fully support her decision, and anyone with opinions about it can go to hell—I’m paraphrasing—the reporters have departed the Tooth for lack of juicy gossip.

Kinda nice that they’re privately owned and don’t have to make any board of directors or shareholders happy over their future CEO’s private life.

But I’m still keeping myself scarce.

Mostly because I have nothing better to do with my time than spend all of it with Laney.

And today, I’m taking her out of her house for the first time since her accident.

We’re going all the way across town, if you can believe it.

All the way to…

My house.

“Oh, look at your cabin,” she squeals from the passenger seat of her Volvo, which I will officially accidentally-on-purpose be calling her vulva the next time we talk about her car in front of her parents.

Gotta make sure they mean it when they say they accept me for who I am. And I’ll only do it once.

Probably.

“Is that a good look at your cabin, or is that a subtle I hate it, Theo, you have to move?” I ask.

“It’s adorable. I love it.”

“All of my wallpaper inside is covered in boobs.”

“Aww, you put your face on your wallpaper? That’s adorable too.”

I slam the brakes too hard as I jerk my head to look at her, not quite certain I heard her right.

And she doubles over laughing, nearly banging her head on the dash in the process. “Oh, your face,” she gasps.

“Damn.”

“You should see your face.”

“Didn’t think I’d rubbed off on you this fast.”

“You rubbed off all over me in bed this morning.”

And now I’m both intellectually impressed with that zinger and also sporting another hard-on at watching Laney push boundaries of her own.

Her cast sucks.

It’s work-around-able, but it sucks. Especially when she gives me boners.

Giving her sponge baths does not suck though.

Not saying I want her in a cast forever, but there’s a strong likelihood she’ll be getting regular sponge baths for the rest of her life anyway. Eventually I’ll replace something to do with my time that resembles some form of a day job again, but for now?

For now, being Laney’s personal manservant is all the purpose I need in life.

“Are we keeping score?” she asks. “Am I even close to you in smartass comments for the hour yet?”

Her eyes are twinkling. Her smile is as broad as I’ve ever seen it. And she’s squeezing my thigh while I don’t even try to resist smiling back at her. “You’d love wallpaper with my face all over it.”

“We’re doing tests with custom wallpaper at Kingston Photo Gifts. Here. Smile. I’ll have an accidentally messed up roll sent to my parents’ house.”

“Get unbuckled, trouble. No garage. I’m carrying you inside.”

Her eyes go smoky while her smile stays fixed. “That’s my favorite.”

I get her inside without slipping, and she squeals all over again. “It’s Fred and Miss Doodles!”

I’ve been dashing back and forth between my house and Laney’s to check on them. Sooner or later, we’ll combine the litter again. Probably sooner.

We just have to decide whose house they live in or how often we want to transport them between our houses.

But that’s not the bigger problem right now. “Shit.”

“What? Was that a surprise? That couldn’t be a surprise. I knew they existed, and you kept leaving me to check on them.”

No, the shit is more about my shortsightedness. Two chairs in the living room.

No couch.

Huh.

Maybe all’s not lost.

She’ll have to sit in my lap.

Or we’ll have to sit together in bed.

Did I make my bed?

Do I care?

“Nothing to prop your leg up on,” I tell her.

She makes the squinty face that means she’s debating if she believes me or not.

I’m not lying.

That is definitely one of the many thoughts flying through my head.

“To the kitchen with you,” I tell her. “Best option right now for boring people with day jobs.”

She ruffles my hair and kisses my cheek.

I love that she knows I’m teasing.

And I love that she’s working from home for enough weeks that the gossip about us in her office will have probably died down by the time she makes it back there. And she says her parents have our backs. You were working behind a paywall, she keeps telling me. Not walking around in public flashing everyone. Anyone who’s seen your penis knew what they were signing up for, and that’s on them. It takes two sides to make a naked inspirational knitter successful.

“If you get your work done early,” I tell her, “we’ll go sledding.”

“Meanie.”

“I’m serious. Your leg’s wrapped up tight. Probably safer today than it was last week. I’ll pick a small hill.”

“Tell me you didn’t go sledding when you broke your arm.”

“I did not go sledding when I broke my arm.”

She lifts her brows at me while I settle her in at the table and slide a second chair over for her leg.

And I grin. “It was September. Hadn’t snowed yet. Be right back. Fred might sniff you. He’s getting braver. Treats are here if you want to try them.”

I leave her with a bag of cat treats and head back out to her car to grab her crutches and the big-ass purse with her computer in it. I’ve barely retrieved them when once again, I’m cringing as I hear a noise.

Why are there tires crunching on my gravel?

Swear to fuck, if someone’s coming out here to spy on Laney and me, even after I did that entire clothed, face-showing video telling my viewers I was closing up shop to save my body for one woman and one woman only, and after that press release—

Oh.

It’s Sabrina.

Still annoying.

Except for the part where Laney and I haven’t heard from her yet today.

We’ve all been checking in with each other to see if Emma’s sent anyone messages from her solo honeymoon.

Laney’s in touch with Claire too.

So far, all’s radio silent.

I’m starting to not like it even more than I thought I wouldn’t like it, even if Em’s not scheduled to get home for another few days.

Sabrina screeches her car to a stop inches from Laney’s bumper and jumps out.

And she is not happy. “Where’s Laney?”

“Is it Emma?”

“No. Where’s Laney?”

I point to the house.

Despite me having longer legs and being twice as close to the door as she is, and despite her heeled boots and the crap ton of snow on the ground, she beats me inside.

“Don’t get up,” I call to Laney as I hustle after her redheaded friend.

“Sabrina. Oh my god. What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

I skid to a stop in the kitchen and replace Sabrina digging through my cabinets.

“Sabrina,” Laney repeats. She flaps a hand at me. Silent request for her crutches.

“Where do you keep the damn paper bags?” Sabrina shrieks.

I reach over the fridge, pop open a cabinet that’s too high for Sabrina to reach, and pull out a single paper sack.

She lunges and starts breathing into it as she uses the lower cabinets along the back wall to support herself while she sinks to the floor.

“Emma?” Laney says.

Sabrina shakes her head. “Me,” she pants.

“Oh my god, are you pregnant?” Laney shrieks.

Fred yowls. Miss Doodles chimes in with a sharp me-OW of her own.

“Worse,” Sabrina moans into the bag. “So. Much. Worse.”

“Are you dying?” Laney whispers.

I’m feeling kind of useless, so I stand behind Laney’s chair and settle my hands on her shoulders.

“Stand—Hawaii—boss,” Sabrina says between puffs.

Laney stares at her. “Slower.”

“Last night—in Hawaii—”

“The night I passed out drunk by like seven in the evening and you went out the rest of the night and didn’t come home until the next morning?” Laney prompts. She glances at me. “Claire was there. I wasn’t alone. Promise.”

I nod.

Sabrina’s bag crinkles as she sucks in air. “Hot guy—bar—slept with—”

Laney squeaks. “You had a hot one night stand that night?”

“So guilty—didn’t mean to—too fun—but now—now—” Sabrina cuts herself off by gasping for breath inside the bag.

“Wait,” Laney says. “Wait wait. Did you say boss?”

Sabrina nods fast and furious.

“He’s—no.”

Sabrina nods more while she puffs into the bag.

“Your hot one-night stand is Bean & Nugget’s new owner?” Laney shrieks.

Sabrina moans. “Yes.”

And now that I know the world isn’t exploding, there’s not bad news about Emma, and Sabrina’s probably about to ask us all for money again, which is fine, she can have it, I start to breathe a lot easier.

“Oh, god,” Laney whispers.

Sabrina nods again. “Worse.”

“You’re pregnant with your one-night stand-slash-boss’s baby?” Laney shrieks.

Sabrina throws the paper sack at her. “I am not pregnant. But I want him gone. And I don’t—I can’t—he won’t—Laney. Laney. He’s not like he was in Hawaii. Not at all. He won’t sell to me. And I think he’ll take the first opportunity to fire me. Bean & Nugget is a lost cause.”

Oh, shit.

Shit shit shit.

Sabrina’s gonna cry.

Cannot handle this.

Cannot handle this.

Laney crying? Yes. Please. I mean, not please, but like, if she has to cry, please let me be the one to put her back together.

Sabrina crying?

Get me the hell out of here.

Laney makes another noise. “Theo. Crutches. Please.”

On the one hand, I’d like to go live in the woods to get away from Sabrina crying.

On the other, I get a boner every time Laney issues orders.

I bolt into action. Action’s where it’s at.

As soon as Laney has a single crutch in hand, she’s pushing herself up.

Second crutch, and she’s across the kitchen in four swings, including two to get around the table.

I’m right behind her because I’m basically her pet right now.

And I like it that way.

She swings her cast to one side and squats on her other leg so she’s down at her friend’s level.

Boner’s getting bonier.

“Sabrina Sullivan, you listen to me,” Laney says. “Are you listening?”

Sabrina nods.

“Bean & Nugget is not lost. Who are you?”

“You just said my name.”

“Who are you?”

“Fine. Fine. I’m Sabrina Sullivan.”

“No, you are Sabrina fucking Sullivan. And you are not going to let some random man that you’ve seen naked keep you from your dreams, because we are the ugly heiresses and we let no men stand in our way. Am I right?”

Sabrina nods, but she also starts breathing too hard again.

I grab her a new paper bag and hand it over.

“So you know what you have to do,” Laney says to her.

Is it hot this winter, or is it just my girlfriend?

Also, I’m even more turned on every time she owns the nickname I gave her a couple decades ago.

“I can’t, Laney,” Sabrina whispers into the paper bag. “I quit. I quit. Theo. Tell her I quit.”

“I’m gonna sit this one out,” I say. “Just got back in her good graces,” I add in a stage whisper. “Also, I don’t think you’d be here if you didn’t want her to fix this for you. I’d do what she says.”

“You can’t quit and you know it,” Laney tells her. “It’s in your blood. This is what you do. You know how to walk the line. So stand up. Get back in your car. Go back to work. And replace out all of the gossip about him. This is what you’ve been training for your entire life. Find out the gossip. Use the gossip. Get your fucking café back. Am I clear?”

Sabrina takes a deep, shuddery breath. “But what if it makes Emma hate me even more?”

Laney sighs and reaches for Sabrina, then makes a strangled ulp! noise as she tumbles headfirst onto her friend.

Stupid fucking cast.

“Stupid fucking cast,” she stutters.

“You are seriously rubbing off on her,” Sabrina says darkly to me.

“It’s awesome,” I agree while I carefully lift Laney back up and get her back to her chair. “You okay?”

“I did that on purpose,” Laney mutters.

I kiss her head. “Perfect avoidance of the question.”

“Emma will not hate you for doing what you do best to get your café back,” Laney says to Sabrina. “Pretend I’m hugging you while I’m reassuring you. And listen to me. Listen to me. She doesn’t hate you now.”

Sabrina winces.

Hell, I wince too.

Laney told me about what happened when I turned into an asshole and disappeared.

Only other time I know of that Emma’s ever been that mad was the first time she dumped Chandler not long after they left for their respective colleges. She never told me why she dumped him, but it didn’t matter.

Not when she was that furious.

Get the feeling this was worse.

And she might be over second chances.

“I’m rooting for you,” I tell Sabrina.

“She’ll forgive you,” Laney insists. “But I won’t if you don’t go fight for what you want. And if you don’t let me help you every step of the way.”

“Okay.” Sabrina sucks in a big breath. “But this is the last time I’m weaponizing gossip. I swear. I swear.”

She takes a few more deep breaths, grabs both paper bags, hugs Laney, hugs me too, and heads for the door.

“Text me when you’re ready to make a plan,” Laney calls. “And go hug your dog. You’ll feel better.”

“You’re too good for me,” Sabrina calls back.

She sounds better.

Not quite there, but better.

Laney looks up at me.

I drop a kiss on her head. “Awkward. But maybe we won’t be the biggest story in town for much longer.”

She laughs a little.

And then she sighs. “Do you think I gave her the right advice?”

“Princess, you gave her the only advice. Don’t worry. This is Sabrina. She has it. And she has you on her side. You’ve got me on your side. Emma gets home soon, and you’ll be unstoppable once the three of you are reunited. This dickweed doesn’t stand a chance.”

She peers up at me.

I kiss her again.

Will it really work out for Sabrina?

No idea. Don’t know what she’s up against.

But I’m good with change.

Whatever happens, we’re in for a ride, and I’m planning to enjoy the hell out of it with Laney by my side.