His Pickle Her Jam (Cherry On Top Tales #4)

Epilogue-Buck

After helping Jan stand up, I kissed her once more, sucking on her lips until I forced myself to release her.

I had forever to kiss her.

Starting right now, my baser self demanded.

But I could wait. This was important, too.

“There they are!” Mrs. Jones said, a knowing smile on her face.

“Well, children, are you ready to hear our decision?” Mr. Jones asked.

“Actually, Mr. Jones, we have a new proposition. You see, we would like to purchase this place together.”

“Together?” the older man asked.

His eyes were twinkling with amusement as he wrapped a gnarled hand around his wife’s.

“Together is more fun,” Mrs. Jones agreed.

“Are you saying you don’t want to know who won?” Sonny asked, frowning.

“Nope. I am saying I won,” I replied.

“Hey!” Jan said, pinching my side and making me jump.

“Easy,” I chided, grinning at my feisty little fiancée. “Jan Baby, I got you, so I won.”

She smiled then, and it was brighter than the sun.

“Fair enough,” Jan replied, kissing my cheek and hugging me back.

Later on that evening, after we’d signed the realtor’s papers and were celebrating our engagement in one of the private rooms at the Whiskey Bar, Jan sat on my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me softly.

I couldn’t even begin to explain the number of times I had imagined a scenario just like that. One where this woman was mine.

But here she was, smiling with her whole heart in her eyes, and miracle of miracles, it was all for me.

“By the way,” she said, “I forgot to tell you something when we made all our plans earlier.”

I frowned.

“What?”

“Well, it all happened so fast, you proposing, and asking me to be your business partner, I forgot to mention that I love you, too.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. Emotion filled me. I knew she cared.

But hearing it and knowing it were two different things.

I liked hearing it. Very much.

“Say that again,” I rasped.

“I love you, David.”

“I love you, too. So damn much, Jan Baby.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, smiling at me from her perch on my lap.

“Even though my jam is better, and knowing I would have definitely won today, I am willing to concede that your pickle is pretty perfect,” she teased.

“Brat,” I growled, nipping her lip between my teeth playfully.

Jan wiggled on my lap, making my, er, pickle perk up.

“Better take me home and teach me a lesson,” she whispered.

I was on my feet with her in my arms and out the side door before anyone could stop us.

I didn’t want to waste another minute futzing around. I just wanted Jan. Images of her sweet face smiling at me through a veil of white filled my mind, and I knew I didn’t want a long engagement.

“How do you feel about getting married on the beach?”

She smiled even wider, her bright eyes alight with mischief.

“I think that sounds itchy and hot.”

“Itchy?”

“Yeah, sand gets all in between your toes and other areas.”

“Jan—”

“A Fall wedding has always been my idea of perfect,” she continued, unfazed.

“Fall, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s cooler outside. We can have pumpkins and pretty fall colors in all the decor.”

I grinned.

Of course, she was going to argue about it. She wouldn’t be Jan without being contradictory. And I wouldn’t have her any other way.

“God, you’re perfect. I love you,” I said and kissed her until she was breathless.

“I love you too, David. Take me home.”

“Your wish. My command.”

“You’re damn right it is,” she said, smiling at me.

She wasn’t wrong. That was likely how it was going to be for the rest of our lives.

And I couldn’t wait.

The end.