The sun sets, and the solar-powered twinkle lights bathe the yard in a golden glow. It’s like a fairytale—my own tumultuous happily ever after, featuring all my sisters living their best lives.
One by one, my sisters and their partners drift toward their rooms, full of food and family and happiness. I hug each of them goodnight and try not to fret about my hostess preparations.
“Breakfast is at nine,” I tell Eden and Nate as they head toward the sugar shack bungalow. “Unless you want to sleep in. Totally fine. No pressure. I’ll leave a basket outside your door.”
“You’re adorable when you’re nervous,” Eden says. “Stop worrying. Everything is perfect.”
The Bedds scatter in a wave of dog fur and tired children. Gran has, to my horror, led a parade of her relatives to clean everything up, so the whole place sparkles without Asher or me lifting a finger.
Gran kisses my cheek. “You’re a good girl, Eva Storm,” she says. “I knew you belonged here the moment I met you.”
Finally, finally, the yard is empty except for the lingering smell of wood smoke and pie. I’m folding chairs when I notice Baabara trotting determinedly up the hill toward the porch.
“Oh no you don’t.” I intercept her before she can break into my business. “Back down the hill. Go on. Shoo.”
Baabara gives me an offended look but allows herself to be herded toward Bedd Fellows Farm, where the golf cart is just disappearing with the last of the stragglers. I watch until she’s safely down the hill, then turn toward the house.
Our house—mine and Asher’s. The house where I fell in love with a grumpy hermit who growled at me in the woods and then proceeded to let me climb his walls until they crumbled.
He’s waiting for me on the porch, two glasses of wine in hand.
“Everyone settled?” he asks.
“I think so.” I take the wine and collapse into his lap on the porch swing. “I can’t believe we pulled that off.”
“You pulled it off. I really did nothing.”
“You talked to people, Asher. Multiple people. For hours.”
“I need at least a week to recover.”
I laugh and rest my head on his shoulder. The night is quiet now, just crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. The stars are out—more stars than I ever saw in Pittsburgh, a whole sky full of them.
“I feel so lucky,” I say softly. “One day I was ignoring certified mail and convincing myself I wanted nothing of my own. And now I have all of this.”
“It’s not luck.” Asher kisses the top of my head.
“Hm?”
“You worked for this, Eva. Every bit of it. Tapped Out, these relationships, the life you’ve built here… None of that was handed to you. You chose it. You fought for it. You made it happen.” He turns to look at me, his expression serious. “Don’t call it luck. That diminishes everything you’ve accomplished.”
My throat feels tight. “When did you get so good at pep talks?”
He shrugs, then lifts my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “I’m proud of you. In case that wasn’t clear.”
“It’s getting clearer.” I set down my wine and shift to face him. “You know what else is clear?”
“What?”
I stand and pull him up with me. “I need a yeti to take me to bed.”
He grins, teeth glinting in the starlight, eyes twinkling bright. “That is a fantastic idea.”
We walk inside, hand in hand. The house is quiet, warm, ours. Upstairs, the bedroom we share—because I’m not spending another night in a bed that doesn’t have Asher in it—is soft with moonlight.
“I love you,” I tell him as he closes the door behind us.
“I love you, too.” He pulls me close. “Even though you just created a world where you are constantly bringing in people to disrupt my peace and quiet.”
