"What? He deserved it," I growl.
"He did," Jasmine agrees, bobbing her head. "Someone should have pulled his spine out through his asshole."
"I can make that happen."
"Oh, no, you can't," Lilah growls, burrowing into my arms like she's trying to use her body to stop me. "He's not even worth a spot in my memories. He's definitely not worth you going to jail. We have a wedding to plan, remember?"
"Fuck yeah, we do." I tip her head back, meeting her gaze. "But you should know…I have conditions."
She eyes me warily. "What kind of conditions?"
"If you even think about wearing Spanx, I'll be spanking your ass as soon as I cut them off of you. And no bra allowed."
"Jesus Christ," Jasmine mutters, heading for the back. "I do not need to hear this conversation. I'm going to drink wine and pretend I didn't even hear that part."
Lilah just laughs in response, lifting up on her toes to press her lips to mine. "Those are the best damn conditions I've ever heard."
"Thought you might like them."
She grins at me, her eyes alight with happiness.
"Fuck," I growl, pressing my lips to hers. "You're so goddamn beautiful, baby. And you're all mine."
"Yeah," she whispers against my lips, twining her arms around my neck. "I am."
Epilogue
Lilah
Three Years Later
"We need to order additional copies of Cassia's new book," I murmur, peering at the shelf in the back of the store. "We can't keep them on the shelves."
"That's because she's awesome," Sarah reminds me, which is true. Cassia is awesome. She's signed at the store a few timesnow. We've gotten close over the last two years. I love her to pieces.
Lincoln loves her husband, though they have one of those guy friendships—you know the one where they mostly talk business and sports, drink beer, and are happy as clams? Yeah, one of those. It's kind of cute.
Then again, I feel that way about everything my husband does. I'm more in love with him than ever. The last three years have been magical in all the best ways. My happily-ever-after is loud and messy and so fucking perfect it hurts sometimes.
This was never part of the dream. Somehow, it's better.
Lincoln's downtown makeover breathed new life into the area, bringing all kinds of foot traffic with it. With the apartment complex above us, we're busier than ever. And I'm happier than anyone has a right to be.
"Shit!" he growls from the front of the store, and then I hear a bright, happy squeal from our daughter. "Get back here with that!"
"Someone forgot to baby-proof the vibrator section again!" Jazz calls from the front of the store. "Abigail is on the lam with a sparkly pink cock. Oh, wait. She just bashed your husband over the head with it."
Sarah and I exchange a look before bursting into peals of laughter. Of course my daughter is beating Lincoln with a vibrator.Of courseshe is. Honestly, the only surprise is that Jazz's little girl isn't helping. They're as close as we were growing up, and I love that so much.
This store has forged so many friendships and started so many stories. We've laughed and cried and celebrated together, writing our own memories into the walls. But absolutely none are sweeter than watching our kids grow up together among the stacks.
"Are you going to save him?" Sarah asks, wiping tears.
"Are you kidding me?" I grin, waddling toward the front of the store with one hand on my pregnant belly. "I'm going to watch."
She laughs loudly before deciding to join me. When we crowd into the doorway, both ridiculously pregnant, it's to see Lincoln trying to contain Abigail, who is absolutely feral in his arms, wielding her stolen vibrator like a fucking lightsaber. Jazz's daughter, Mina, is at his feet, trying to climb his leg and gnaw on his knee at the same time.
"Wet go of my fwiend!" Mina cries, karate-chopping him across the back of the knee.
