This home.
This beginning.
Because whether it started with a magical app, a cursed cookie, or a semi-nude relative arrested in Las Vegas, this is ours.
And it’s perfect.
Epilogue 1: Emery and Bobby
“Okay, so first of all,” I begin, adjusting the magical Swoosh Call screen so I can see my brother and his mate hovering over Eb’s kitchen island, “we’re fine. Totally fine. Minor misunderstanding. Nothing a few thousand dollars and a very persuasive lawyer couldn’t fix.”
“You were arrested, Bobby!” Eb shrieks, holding his mug of cocoa like a weapon. “Naked! On the Vegas strip!”
“Technically,” Emery says, casually tossing her wild curls over one shoulder, “he was wearing a Santa hat. And boots. That counts.”
“Tell them about the champagne,” I say, nudging her gently.
Gods, this woman is my everything. One look and I was hooked!
“Oh, right,” Emery sighs dreamily. “There was this bottle in the honeymoon suite. We thought it was complimentary. Turns out it was enchanted with a lust-and-impulse spell. You know, standard wedding night chaos.”
“Wait,” Eb groans. “You two got married because of a magic roofie?”
“Nooo,” I insist. “We were already crazy about each other. After you two had your little thing at the gala we kind of wound up sitting together and talking. On a whim, we both downloaded the Date to Mate app and were matched. Just. Like. That.”
“Yeah, he’s my destiny,” Emery sighs.
“Anyway, the spell and the champagne just expedited things.”
“But we already paid the fines,” Emery adds, holding up a signed document. “Our lawyer’s great. Plus, Uncle Uzzi pulled some strings with the Vegas Courts.”
“We’re on the first plane home in the morning, which leads me to my next question,” Bobby says. “Can we crash at your place for a few days?”
Eb groans.
“I can ask my mother if she’ll let me drown him now. He’s not a kid anymore,” Eb murmurs to Marigold.
“Eb! Come on! I’m your baby brother,” I beg—what, I’m not above that.
Especially if that means we get to chow down on my new sis-in-law’s holiday recipes, which Emery assured me are to die for.
And because she’s my favorite—and only sister-in-law, Marigold just laughs and smiles warmly right before she says, “You’re family now. Of course you can come for a visit!”
“Told you she was great,” Emery whispers to me.
I just nod and smile at her like a dope because from where I’m sitting, Em is the great one.
Gods, I love this woman.
And I think this Christmas is going to be the best one of all!
Epilogue 2: Marigold
I lean my head against Eb’s broad shoulder as we sit curled up on the couch, the twinkle lights on our cookie-themed Christmas tree dancing across the windows.
The scent of cinnamon and cocoa lingers in the air, and outside, soft flakes of snow drift lazily past the glass, like the world itself has slowed down to let us breathe.
To let us be.
