Saving Us (The Billionaire Brothers of NY Duology #1)

Epilogue

SIX MONTHS LATER…

H arper

Coming home from the shop, my arms were full of groceries as I kicked the door of the brownstone closed. Since it was Friday, Gage worked from home, but he still had Tommy bring me to and from the shop even if he didn’t go to the office. I protested at first. But he persuaded me by explaining that it was Tommy’s job, his livelihood, and he still needed to work each day.

I had more groceries than normal since we were heading to LBI for the weekend. Most people didn’t appreciate how beautiful the beach was in this region even in the middle of January. A deserted beach town is the best type of beach town. And we were having a warm spell, in the fifties this weekend, so I was excited.

“Gage?” I called up the stairs.

The footsteps above told me he heard me and hopefully that meant he was done working and packed to go. My bag got packed last night, knowing we wanted to leave as soon as I got home.

The freight train known as Gage Parker came barreling down the stairs, with a bag over his shoulder.

“Finally,” he said with a huge grin across his face. “You got the food?”

“Yep.”

He decided we’d rent a house this time. Since the shop was closed on Mondays, and he worked remotely that day now as well, we could stay until then. A refrigerator full of food was in order since the island kind of shut down over the winter, with very few restaurants open.

“Victoria said she wants to come next time,” I said as I grabbed the cooler bag to put the food in. “Her and Sam seem to be doing pretty good. They’ve been talking for a couple months now.”

Gage came to my rescue and grabbed the now too-heavy bag for me.

“Maybe the first weekend we head down once the weather is warm, we’ll ask them to come,” I said.

“Okay,” Gage said, looking thoughtful. He started for the garage door. “Your bag is at the bottom of the stairs. Let’s get going.”

Grabbing my things, turning off the lights and locking up behind me, I met Gage by the trunk of the truck. He put all our things in the back, but I took hold of his arm before he could walk around to the front of the car.

“Want me to drive?” I asked him.

“No, I’m good,” he responded.

Nodding slowly as I made my way around to the passenger seat, I was hopeful he was.

My offer to drive got denied because I think it was the next demon he wanted to face. And he faced it. The drive down the Garden State Parkway was uneventful, mainly because of the time of year. If it were the warmer months, the traffic would have been horrific. But he did well, and he smiled wide as we drove over the LBI bridge.

“The house we’re going to looks like it’s on the bay,” I said, looking at the map on the phone. That got me a little giddy inside.

“It is,” he replied. “Only a few more blocks.”

As he turned left onto Fifteenth Street, I couldn’t believe the driveway we were pulling into.

“You rented this house?” I squealed. “Gage, oh my God, I can’t believe you remembered.”

The house we were sitting in front of looked nothing like the house from almost twenty years ago. But on this lot was the house my family and cousins’ family rented together one year. It was filled with so many joyous memories for me. Gage and I walked by it last summer on our last day here.

“You remembered?” I asked, looking across the front seat at him. “Oh my God, you remembered.” My eyes wandered across the multiple floors of the now mini mansion that stood in front of me. The trend on the island has been to knock down the older, run-down small summer shacks and build homes that could be lived in year-round.

The house stood three stories tall with a huge wraparound porch in front. The cedar shakes were still new enough that they held their brownish color, but over time, they would be a weathered gray. I already knew without seeing that the entire back of the house would be a wall of windows to take in the view of the water.

I couldn’t wait to get inside and take a look.

He squeezed my hand as I sat staring at the house, but let it go and jumped from the truck. His excitement rivaled mine as he jumped out of the car.

“C’mon,” he said, grabbing my hand. “I’ll get our things later. Let’s go take a look.”

We hurried to the front door, and Gage took a key from his pocket, which struck me as odd, but I thought maybe they made prior arrangements. I knew I’d never get used to his world and the number of people he had that did things for him.

Holding the door open, he allowed me to walk in first.

It was stunning. The white, tan, and light blue color scheme was exactly how I would have decorated a beach house if I owned one. The colors of the sea, sand, and sky.

“Oh, Gage, it’s beautiful,” I said, turning toward him. “Thank you so much for renting it for our weekend.” Running to him, I wrapped my arms around him, my face against his chest.

“C’mon,” he said, “Let’s look around a little more.”

He took my hand, and we walked through the wide entranceway that led straight into the living space. You could see straight through to the back of the house from the front, and as predicted, a wall of windows showcased the water. Although, at this time of night, it appeared like a black hole. But in the morning, it would be a breathtaking sight.

“This couch looks so much like yours,” I said. “Well, ours.” I corrected myself. He got upset when I didn’t refer to the contents of the brownstone as ours. It was still something I was getting used to.

I noticed that Gage was standing off to the side of the room, watching me as I looked around.

“What?” I asked in his direction.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just enjoying watching you being so excited.”

But then I noticed something on a side table. It was a framed picture.

Of Gage and me.

And I started taking a closer look around. Walking to the mantle over the fireplace, I found another framed picture.

Of me with my parents when I was a child.

“Gage?”

I gasped as I turned to him.

His hands fidgeted between going in his pockets and out as he worked hard to maintain eye contact with me. Eventually, his eyes scanned the room, but then came back to mine. He slowly started taking measured steps until he got within inches of me. Reaching out, he took both my hands in his.

“Gage,” I whispered. “What’s going on?”

Gage

“Welcome home,” I said. She was confused as I took her hands in mine. And they were trembling. I only hoped I’d done a good thing here. This was a huge step I took without even consulting her. But we both knew this island was special to her, and now special to us both.

Her eyes instantly filled with tears as she took in her surroundings once again, picking up on additional personal details. She saw the bouquet of pink flowers on the kitchen island, and then the New York City skyline painting on the wall she knew I’d been admiring from a local gallery back home. But eventually her hands left mine and covered her mouth in awe as the moment took over.

“This is ours?” she asked, her voice still a whisper. She started wandering around the room, admiring the furnishings and décor. The designer I chose was recommended highly in this area and I was pleased with the outcome. It appeared Harper was as well.

“It is,” I finally said, nervous how she would respond to the news. “And listen, if you don’t like how the designer decorated, it can all be changed. Just say the word.”

She was standing in front of the fireplace as I spoke. Picking up the photo of her with her parents, she wiped at her face quickly. When I messaged her mother asking for some old photos, she said she had the perfect one. It was of the three of them standing on a small dock along the bay. I knew immediately it was the dock on this property.

And Harper knew that, too.

The boat she told me about was in the background of the picture, tied to the wooden post of the dock with a simple yellow rope. And the smiles on the three of them were of pure joy.

Using two hands, as if the frame would break, Harper put the photo carefully back in its now-sacred spot on the mantle. She turned in my direction, her head tilted downward and facing the floor. As her eyes drifted up, her feet started in my direction, her pace shifting from a walk to a run.

Jumping into my arms, I caught her and held her tight against me. Only then did I feel the shudder of her quiet sobs against my chest. My hands gripped the back of her head, threading through her hair, holding her face to my shoulder.

“It’s perfect,” she said through her tears. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Baby,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “I hope these are happy tears. This was all to make you happy.”

All she could do was nod repeatedly. She couldn’t speak, even when she tried. I put her down, looking into her face. Wiping her cheeks dry, her smile surfaced, and a laugh escaped her mouth.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she finally got out. “How the hell did you do this?”

When we were here last July, I put the wheels in motion. Turns out, the house was on the market. It was a simple transaction, nothing needed to be done out of the ordinary. Redecorating took some time, and Maryellen spent some days down here handling much of that for me.

“Anything for you, baby.”

Her excitement returned, and she wanted to see more of what she now knew to be her beach house. Spinning out of my arms, and with renewed vigor, she ran through the place. Up the stairs, out on the deck, into the backyard.

“We have a pool?” she yelled.

“Oh my God, have you seen the outdoor shower? It’s gorgeous, I can’t wait until it’s warm enough to take my first outdoor shower.”

“It looks like fifteen people can sit around that firepit!”

“How many bedrooms does this place have?”

“What is that space downstairs going to be for? And why are there so many refrigerators?”

Her questions were hitting me so fast I couldn’t keep up.

Then she finally made it to the kitchen. It was a gorgeous, top-of-the-line chef’s kitchen. But that wasn’t why I was happy she’d made it to that room.

She walked around the space, admiring the fine woodwork and the stainless appliances. But then her gaze settled on the large island. Hoping she’d finally seen it, I waited.

Her eyes went to the large bouquet of pink peonies. It was a monstrous bundle of flowers, probably the largest I’d ever seen.

“They’re beautiful,” she said quietly.

And then a small gasp escaped her.

And I knew she’d found it.

With a shaky hand, she reached out for the tiny offering sitting atop a pink silk bow.

As she picked it up, she turned toward me. And I made sure to be by her side when she did.

“Harper,” I said. “You’ve made me the happiest version of me these past nine months.”

The ring shook in her fingers, so I took it, gripping her left hand.

“I don’t want to spend another day not knowing that we’ll spend our life walking side by side, together.”

Perching the pink diamond ring at the tip of her finger, I continued.

“Harper Wilson, will you marry me?”

There were no tears in her crystal blue eyes as she looked up at me.

There was only clarity.

Total and complete clarity as she answered me.

“Yes,” she said. “A thousand times yes, in a thousand lives, yes. I want nothing more than to be your wife, Mr. Parker.”

I slid the ring on her finger and admired the pink stone on her hand. She held her hand up and did the same.

“It’s beautiful, Gage,” she said as she extended her hand in front of us. The gem sparkled in the dim light, looking even bigger on her petite hand.

“But we do have one problem.”

My head snapped down to hers.

“Harper Parker, that’s a mouthful,” she said, and broke out in laughter.

Picking her up by the waist, as her legs wrapped around mine, I answered her against her ear.

“Harper Parker sounds amazing. To me, it sounds very professional.”

She barked a laugh as I carried her toward the couch.

“Oh yeah, what profession?” Her laughter was like a song as it filled the walls of what would be another home of ours.

“Well, you do have this dream job you’ve always been talking about,” I said. “I’m sure you can be creative with that name for your shop someday.”

Setting her on the couch, I sat next to her and took her hand in mine to admire the ring I’d just put on her finger. She made it look even better.

“I was thinking you should start considering that business model I suggested. You know, about doing your wedding accounts from an off-site rather than having a shop to pay rent on.”

The return on investment of walk-in floral orders did not warrant paying rent on a shop, especially in New York City. And Harper was intrigued by my suggestions and the model I presented.

“All it really requires is some industrial-sized refrigerators.”

Her head snapped in my direction. It was starting to make sense to her now.

“And maybe a big mahogany table to work on, and do other things, too,” I offered.

She stood up from the couch, her confusion and excitement still rolling from her body. I knew I was throwing a lot at her for one day, but that’s how we rolled.

Life was fast in our lane.

“Gage,” she said, more a question than a statement. “What have you done?” She walked to the other side of the room, looking for something. “Where is the door to the lower level?”

She pulled open a door that led to a closet, then a half bath. “Gage, what have you done?”

Walking to where she was now freaking out, I grabbed her by both her hands and tried to calm her.

“I haven’t done anything other than buy a few refrigerators, just in case you were ready to start out on your own,” I told her. “But if you are, there’s space here, and back in New York, for you to do it.”

She shook her head in disbelief as she made her way to me.

“Gage,” she whispered as she threw herself into my arms. “My God, you’ve done all of this for me?”

Wrapping her legs around my waist, my hands, as if on auto-pilot, went to her ass as I started the walk with her, this time up the stairs.

“If I could give you the world, I would, Harper.”

Her head snuggled against my chest as I made our way to our bedroom.

“What was that you said about a mahogany table?” she asked.

I laughed, deep and long, before answering her.

“I have two on order, one for each house. And they’re being put to use whether you’re using them for floral arrangements or not.”

Dropping her on our bed, she giggled as I fell next to her.

“What will we do until they arrive?” she asked, a seductive tone to her voice.

Pulling her close, aligning our bodies, my hand made its way to the button of her jeans. Wood surfaces would come, but the christening of this house would be in our bed.

“Well, if you didn’t notice, we have a pretty big dining table downstairs, any guess what wood it’s made of?”

Her laughter filled the room. It was a gorgeous sound.

But more importantly, another day completed with a smile on her face.

The End