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The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss (Curvy Girl Crew #7) Epilogue 100%
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Epilogue

-Jessica-

It had been seven months since the now infamous mini golf company retreat, and life was good.

Amelia was infinitely easier to work for than Peter—mostly because Peter was infinitely distracting—and I’d learned a lot from her. She’d heard about the Curvy Girl Crew’s new plan and had asked to be a backer. Between helping people via the Curvy Girl Crew, spending my evenings with Peter, and working full time, I was busier than ever, but I was happy.

Brooke’s wedding had gone off without a hitch, and Nanette and David were proud parents of a one-month-old baby girl who had more curly brown hair than anyone had ever seen on an infant. We all got daily updates, and I’d learned more about formula versus breastfeeding than I ever wanted to know.

True to his threat, William had been flying us all over the country, and this weekend was the first in months that Peter and I were going to have to ourselves.

It had taken me some time to get used to the fact that doing anything for the first time would be torture for Peter. It didn’t matter if we watched YouTube videos about it or if I had personal experience with it, Peter would always struggle.

To his credit, he’d become much better at being open to new experiences. It helped that his Aunt Mei and Uncle Harold liked to hang out with us, and they made anything fun.

This weekend Peter and I were alone. We had no plans. No obligations. Nothing.

Of course, this meant that Peter had booked time in Mrs. Santos’ flower shop, which I was fine with. He came back a much happier man after he spent time there, and I liked him to be happy.

I was lounging on my couch, dressed in sweats and a hoodie, watching an action film, when he knocked on my door.

I checked the time. I’d worked this out so the movie would be finished before he got here.

He was early.

Peter rarely deviated from his schedule. I wondered if something was wrong but figured I’d learn that in a moment, so I paused my show, got up, and went to the door.

Even after kissing the guy for more than half a year, he took my breath away every time I saw him. He was looking down at his phone when I opened the door. I was surprised to see he was also dressed casually. He looked up, and I studied his face, which led me to his eyes, which were fixated on me.

“I’m early,” he said.

“You are.” I smiled and grabbed him by the front of the shirt.

He knew this game and allowed me to drag him down to my height so we could kiss.

My friends said if kissing got old, then you were doing it wrong. So far, Peter and I were still doing it right. He put his arms around me, and we backed into my apartment. He shut the door behind him and proceeded to greet me in a way that left me no doubt how he felt about me and that he’d missed me.

When we were both breathing hard, he gently pulled away. “We don’t have plans for tonight, correct?”

“Correct,” I said, eyeing him. What was he up to?

“I have a proposition.”

“Oh yeah?” Was that a gleam in his eyes? Peter didn’t do mischief. “What is it?”

“A surprise.”

I blinked. “A what?”

He smiled, and the sincerity in his expression made my knees go weak. Peter smiled more with me than with anyone else, but this was a category five on his happy scale. Something I’d only seen a few times before.

Peter held out his hand. “Do you trust me?”

I grinned and interlaced my fingers with his. “Of course.”

Peter tugged me to him, brushed my cheek, then pulled me out the door.

Thirty minutes later, we stood outside the hotel where we’d had our company party all those months ago.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.

“You’ll see.” Peter’s voice shook just a little, and I wondered what he’d done.

Of course we’d talked about getting married and what that would entail. Peter was a plan ahead kind of guy. He’d even had me pick out a ring, but with Nanette’s baby and a few other things going on, we hadn’t made it official.

Was that what this was about?

But why here? I knew he’d prefer to ask me in private.

Peter took my hand, which still sent a tingly thrill through me, and led me inside.

The man behind the desk—the one who had been completely useless the day of the fire alarm—grinned and waved.

I waved back, more confused than ever.

When we headed to the ballroom, I looked at Peter. “What’s going on?”

“You’ll see.” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. The action felt like it was more for him than me, so I bit my lip and followed.

The doors creaked open to reveal a dark chasm.

Peter reached over and flipped on the lights.

I flinched back, then my jaw hinged open.

A miniature golf course, made up of seven holes not unlike those we’d created for the company party, lay before me. Only instead of using food, each of these were clearly related to my friends.

The first was a ranch complete with horses and cow obstacles. It made me think of Brooke. The second consisted of fashionably dressed dolls, which had to represent Victoria.

I looked at Peter. “What is this?”

“We’ll have to play through and find out.” He went to a nearby table, snatched up two clubs and two balls, and came back to me. “Shall we?”

I took out my phone to take a picture, but he held out his hand. “No phones.”

“Why not?”

“Later.”

I relinquished my device to him, and he put both his and mine on the table.

I could tell Peter was nervous, but he hid it well. We chatted about each of my friends as we went through the course. Teresa’s display was a giant musical instrument that looked as if it should be in a Dr. Seuss book, and Nanette’s was a minefield of clarinet parts, batons, and sheet music.

We’d gone on several more dates to mini golf courses over the last few months, and Peter had yet to win. Today was no different. He scowled, but I could tell he wasn’t actually upset.

Rachel’s hole was several archways made up of random old things she must have found in her estate sales, and not surprisingly, Ashley’s was a tricky ramp made of blown glass.

When we got to number seven, I saw it was made up of things that Peter and I had done, including a DVD of a disaster movie, another golf club, a small fake fire, some flowers, and a few of the places in the city that we’d visited. I noticed the flag in the hole said “Danger Zone” on it and laughed. “Who told you?”

“Ashley,” Peter admitted.

“That traitor.” I’d put a bet on the fact that my ring was connected to the flag.

“I like it,” Peter purred in my ear.

I swatted him away and took my turn.

His shot was so bad I knew he’d done it on purpose. “Go ahead,” he said as I walked toward the hole.

With a deep breath, I tugged the flag free.

I frowned when I found nothing attached to it.

Slightly disappointed, I finished my turn—getting a score of two—and waited for Peter.

Instead of being at the beginning of the hole, he’d walked up behind me.

“I know you said I didn’t need to do anything special for our engagement, but I wanted to make it something memorable.” He glanced around. “If not private.”

“Did you make all of these?” I pointed at the holes.

“No, your friends made them. I wanted them to be part of this.” Peter scratched his neck, something he’d started doing when he was trying to stay calm.

I walked to him and took his hand. “I love it.”

Peter smiled. “I’m sorry to say, but I practiced this next part.”

My throat tightened, and I swallowed. “Okay.”

Peter took my golf club and set it on the ground. Then he pulled a ring box from his pocket and got down on one knee.

The man I loved was looking up at me with adoration, and I willed myself not to cry.

“Jessica, you’ve brought joy into my life. Joy I never thought I could feel.” He swallowed.

I tried to keep my breathing even.

Peter went on. “I’m a better person because of you. I see the world differently because of you.” He swallowed. “I love you more than you can ever know.”

My anti-crying techniques began to fail, and a single tear escaped.

“You understand me better than anyone ever has. You’re patient with me. You’re kind to me. You’re also firm when I need it.” Peter sniffed. “I can only hope to be half as wonderful to you as you are to me. I will work every day to make you happy.” He opened the box to reveal the ring I’d picked out. “Jessica, will you marry me?”

I’d hoped not to be a blubbering mess for this, but a sob clawed its way up my throat, and I dropped to my knees.

Peter wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.

“Yes, I’ll marry you, because I love you too.”

“I’m glad,” he whispered in my ear.

“Nice speech,” I said.

“Thanks.”

Then we kissed, and I was suddenly glad no one was there with us.

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