She smirks. “Guess not.”
I reach for her, covering her hands with mine, and say the only thing that matters. “This is the best news ever, Lo. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”
Her shoulders ease. Just a fraction, but it’s enough. Because whatever comes next, cribs and bottles and all the chaos…
This is our future.
Ford is the first to move. He slides out of his side of the booth and pulls Lo into his arms. She melts into him, her scent blooming. Sweet and warm and so damn grounding it almost knocks me flat.
Beck’s next, crowding in from the other side, one arm wrapping around her shoulders, the other threading into her hair. His breath shakes against her temple. I quickly shuffle out and stand, heart pounding, and fold myself around all of them.
Lo laughs into Ford’s chest, breathless and a little teary. “You guys are suffocating me.”
“Good,” Beck mutters. “Get used to it. You’re not going anywhere alone for the next… hell, ever.”
Ford presses a kiss to her hair, tone softer now. “He’s right. You need anything at all, we’re there.”
Her throat works like she’s swallowing emotion, and when she looks up at us, it’s pure fire and trust and that Omega steel that could level mountains. “You guys are too much.”
“Yeah,” I rasp, holding her tighter. “And you love it.”
Eventually, Lo tips her head back with a wry smile. “So. Wedding. Baby. What else do you guys wanna throw on my plate?”
That’s my cue.
I ease back just enough to meet her eyes, then glance at the other two. “Actually… I had something to tell you all before someone decided to blow up our entire universe.”
Her brow arches, teasing. “Oh? What could possibly top this?”
I grin, the excitement bubbling back now that the shock haze is lifting. “I’m starting something new. A business of my own. Heritage and eco-tourism. Teach people why this land matters and how to make sure it stays that way.”
Lo’s face softens, pride sparking, like sunlight through the clouds. “Hayes… that’s incredible.”
Ford whistles low. “Look at you, mountain man with a business plan.”
Beck smirks, clapping me on the shoulder. “About time you did something that wasn’t fixing everyone else’s messes.”
And just like that, the future isn’t some terrifying blank slate anymore. It’s right here, wrapped around me in this cramped diner booth, smelling of coffee and Christmas and the woman who changed everything for us.
This is the life.
Epilogue
LO
Four months later
Okay. Deep breath. Don’t puke on the dress.
The dress.
God, the dress. It’s hanging on me like some kind of ivory miracle, which is insane because two hours ago I was sweating through my bra thinking I’d look like a sad, sweaty meringue. But no. Here I am. Hair pinned, face painted, wearing actual silk, like I didn’t spend most of my twenties in ripped jeans and a healthy dose of denial.
Tansy steps back and does this slow, dramatic gasp.
“Holy shit, Lo,” she says. “You look…” Her voice goes all wobbly. “You look like a freaking goddess.”
I snort, because what else do you do when your best friend looks like she might cry on your $1,200 rental gown? “Please. I look like me, but slightly less insane.”
