Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

26. Epilogue

Jake

Six months later…

These last months have flown by, but the day has finally arrived for me and Tilly to make it all official. Today is our wedding day. I won’t lie and say I’m holding it all together. I’m actually pretty nervous. But excitedly nervous. I suppose I just can’t wait to make the woman I’ve loved since high school my wife.

My proper wife. Not a fake one this time.

A lot of time, money, and effort has gone into this day, but as I stand on the porch with my coffee in hand, gazing at the giant marquee, the beautifully decorated area, and the white chairs dressed in beautiful flowers, it’s all been worth it. It’s perfect.

“Well, brother,” Joey slaps me on the back, nearly making me spill coffee all over my suit. “Today’s the day.”

I look over at Joey. “And you’re going to stay sober, at least until the ceremony is over, right?” I smirk.

“Scouts honor,” he says with a salute.

“You were never in the Scouts,” I return.

“I know.” He grins widely back at me.

A few minutes later, Cal walks out of the house, followed by Phil and Chris. A few months back, I had a pretty tough choice to make. One of them had to be my best man, and I had to choose between the two of them. The decision was impossible. They’re both my closest friends from high school, and they’ve both been there for me whenever I’ve needed them.

How on Earth was I supposed to make the decision? How could I possibly choose one over the other?

In the end, it was Tilly who came up with the solution.

“Why don’t you have two best men?”

I frowned at her and shook my head. “You can’t do that.”

“Says who?” she came back. “We live in the 21 st century, you know. Do what you want. Honestly, if you saw some of the things they do in New York, it would make your hair curl.”

At first, I still wasn’t certain, but after lots of back and forth and a conversation with Cal, who assured me I would not be completely nuts if I chose to do it, I eventually gave in. Tilly was right. It was our wedding. We could have it any way we wanted.

And so, I now have two best men. And they are, apart from my brothers, the best men I know. They’ve been there for me through good times and bad times, and I don’t know how my life would have turned out without them.

“You know,” Chris says, looking me up and down, “I never thought I’d see the day where you didn’t wear your cowboy boots. After all this time, you look kinda weird in shoes.”

“I was tempted.” I smirk back. “But then I figured one day without them wouldn’t kill me.”

“Besides,” Cal says, “you’d look ridiculous.”

“That, too,” I concede.

Cal rests a hand on my shoulder and smiles at me. “I wish Dad were here to see this day. He’d be so proud of you, Jake.”

“Thanks, man,” I say. “Yes. I know what you mean. But he’s here in spirit.”

“Course he is.” Cal smirks. “You think he’d leave you in charge of this place? He never left.”

Joey, Cal, and I chuckle, and I feel grateful that my family is here beside me. Cal and Joey’s wives are somewhere around. I spoke to Polly, Cal’s wife, last night after their long journey, and Sheila gave me a hug earlier when she, Joey, and the girls arrived.

The five of us guys are talking when Gerry wanders over from the marquee.

“Hey, Pops,” I joke.

Gerry gives me a grin as he walks up onto the porch. “All I can say is, it’s about darn time.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Cal says enthusiastically.

The rest of the guys offer something similar, and I roll my eyes at their mocking tones. I look at Gerry and say, “Hey, just be grateful. With my and your daughter’s communication skills, it’s a miracle it’s happening at all.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Gerry chuckles. He holds out a hand to me, and we shake. “But all joking aside, it’s an honor to welcome you into the family, son.”

“How’s Tilly?” I ask, nodding to the upper level of the house where I know she’s getting ready with the help of Bella and Mel.

Gerry raises his hands. “I’m staying out of the way for a reason.”

I look a little alarmed. “That bad?”

Gerry chuckles. “I’m only kidding. Everything’s just fine, Jake. Don’t you worry. She’ll be where she’s supposed to be, when she’s supposed to be there.”

An hour later, I’m standing before the whole town, all of whom have come out to help us celebrate. If anyone drove through Baskington right now, all they’d see is tumbleweeds because I know every store, bar, and salon is closed today. It’s more of a ghost town than a small town.

The music begins—“Canon in D Major,” composed by Johann Pachelbel—and everyone suddenly quiets and stands. I straighten, and Chris and Phil are right by my side with encouraging smiles.

I’m not supposed to look, but I don’t care. We’ve already made this wedding our own, and as I glance behind me, the sight of her takes my breath away. Her dress flows around her; in fact, she looks like an angel. I can’t say I’ve ever seen her look so beautiful, and when she reaches me, I’m still stunned at the sight of her.

Taking her hand, I gaze into her eyes and thank the universe and everything in it that Tilly found her way back to me.

After our vows, we share a tender kiss, and a great round of applause goes up from everyone behind us.

“I love you so much,” I whisper against her cheek.

“And I love you right back.” Tilly beams.

When we turn to look at our guests, I can tell you I’m the happiest guy in the world, and beside me stands Mrs. Tilly Coulter. At long last. I mean, it’s only taken nearly eleven years.

Later, after all the congratulations and the photographs, everyone makes their way to the marquee. It’s a huge tent that cost me a fortune, but I don’t care. I’m a billionaire, right? And besides, Tilly now has all sorts of business ideas about the ranch and has told me she’ll be able to make good use of it.

For now, though, it’s where our celebrations are being held.

We make our way to the five-tier cake. At first, I thought it was a bit ostentatious, until the guys reminded me that everyone in the town would want a piece, and then I was worried it wasn’t ostentatious enough. But as usual, Tilly settled my fears. Something she’s done throughout all the stages of planning,

“Okay, you two,” the photographer says. “Get in closer.”

“Does he want us in the actual cake?” Tilly whispers sarcastically while we both grip the knife.

I try not to laugh, but I fail and let out a small chuckle.

“That’s it,” he says, waving at us from behind his camera. “Great.”

There are several flashes as he captures the moment, and then a hoard of people behind him wants to do the same. We’re standing there for quite some time, and Tilly makes me laugh again when she says, “Can I stop smiling yet? My cheeks are killing me.”

I’m about to tell her that people have enough pictures when some sort of ruckus at the other end of the marquee seems to catch everyone’s attention. And then the squealing starts.

“It’s escaped.”

“Somebody grab it.”

“Get its tail.”

“No. Not its tail.”

“What the devil…?” I gasp, stepping from behind the table and moving forward to see what the heck is going on.

And then I’m completely gobsmacked as I see Speedy, the piglet Tilly and I bought from the market all those months back, barging through the marquee. Only he’s not a piglet anymore. He’s a fully grown pig who is clearly interested in the smells of food wafting towards him.

I have no idea how he’s escaped, nor do I really care. My mission now is to get him out of here before he trashes the place. All around me, women are jumping on chairs to get out of the way, and seeing a few burly men, I bark orders for us to surround it.

But Speedy has a reputation for being an escape artist. He’s also not the easiest pig to catch, as Tilly learned on that day in the market. Nothing has changed, and this is not the first time I’ve had to try and round him up.

“Go to the other side,” I say to Jonah, another ranch owner. I then throw orders out to some other guys.

Eight of us surround him, but Speedy, I’ve figured out, is a pretty smart pig; crashing into tables and chairs, he avoids all of us in a cunning zig-zag motion. At this point, he’s now the entertainment, and there’s laughter and giggling each time one of us fails to grab him.

Maybe this is karma for what I did to Tilly.

He flies past me and I miss him by inches, but as I follow his track, my heart stops in my chest when I see where he’s heading.

No. No. Please, no.

Tilly is still standing by our delicately crafted cake, and when she realizes that Speedy is heading straight for her, her mouth falls open. Everyone around gasps in horror as the pig seems to charge full speed ahead, and then I watch in slow motion as he careens into the table, sending all five tiers flying everywhere.

If the cake had landed on the floor, a part of me wouldn’t have minded, but my darling wife is now covered in several flavors of sponge.

Everyone falls silent, looking on as Tilly stands there, completely astonished and speechless. I don’t know what to do or say, but as I make my way towards her, my mind is spinning, thinking of words of comfort I’m going to offer when I get to her. But a second later, she bursts out laughing. And a second after that, I see a piece of heavily iced cake flying in my direction.

Yes. Thrown by my beloved wife.

Well, after that, all heck breaks loose, and the three-thousand-dollar cake is flung across the ten-thousand-dollar marquee.

Of course it is.

Everyone joins in, completely forgetting the fact that they’re all dressed in their best outfits. It’s like it doesn’t matter. And in the end, I suppose it doesn’t. This is life, right? It gets messy. What matters is how you deal with the circumstances you’re thrown into, and for the townsfolk of Baskington, we handle things pretty well.

Much, much later, Tilly and I sit on the porch, side by side, my arms wrapped around her as she is wrapped in a warm shawl.

“You had to go there,” I say, out of the blue.

“Where?” she asks.

We’ve been sitting in exhausted silence for a long while, so I caught her off guard.

“The food fight.” I grin, not that she can see me with her head resting on my shoulder.

“Well, I thought it was fitting,” she replies.

I nod. “And you’d be right. Like you are. Most of the time.”

She gives me a playful dig in my belly, and the two of us fall into laughter. This is the beginning of our new life. The beginning of a new book—never mind, a new chapter. Each page sits clean and ready for us to write our story on, and what an adventure we’re going to create.