The tension in his brow releases as a content expression settles on his features. His gaze does an enamored flit across the space in front of him, and then he looks at me, offering a nonchalant shrug. “Your place is pretty nice. Although I did just break the front door, so that would need to be fixed first.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “You broke down my door?”
“Yeah.” Colin hitches a shoulder. “I also got fired. I also forgot it was St. Patrick’s Day. I also ran for twenty-five city blocks in a suit and tie.” He smirks and presses a kiss to Audrey’s head. “Lotta firsts today.”
“No kidding.” I sigh happily and relax my head against the towel, turning to look at him. “I think I love firsts.”
“Well, that’s good.” He winks at me. “Becausethisfirst is definitely the first of many more to come.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
I have an apartment full of ladies right now, and Iain’t even mad.
There’s an explosion of chortling and laughter andawwwsfrom the living room, and Fortuna’s voice lifts above all of it.
“Dios mío,look at her! She’s going to crawl any second!No-no-no-no-nodon’t touch her.” There’s a rapid hand-clap. “Come to yourabuela, Audrey Sheree. You can do it,nenita.”
If Audrey’s about to actuallycrawl, there’s no way in hell I’m going to interrupt it with the sneaky surprise I was about to execute. Joaquin and I have been hiding in the kitchen for about ten minutes while I tried to psyche myself up to actually do it.
Popping the question is actuallyreallynerve-wracking, even if you’re positive that the woman you love will say yes. It’s evenmorenerve-wracking when you’re planning to do it in front of a bunch of people—even if they are some of your closest friends and family.
The ring and my clever little presentation of it are tucked in my shirt pocket, waiting for just the right moment, but this isn’t it.
I start to step out, when Joaquin slaps the back of his hand against my shoulder. “You doing it now? Should I get my phone ready?”
I press my index finger to my mouth. “Not yet.”
He nods and goes back to a bowl full of hummus and a handful of pita chips.
I step around the wall to stand on the edge of the living room, where the ladies are all gathered in the sparkly pink aftermath of Elle’s twenty-ninth birthday bash, a surprise party that was damn near impossible to execute. She’s on the couch wearing a glittery pink tiara along with her work clothes, seated next to Celia—who honestly doesn’t seem to hate me these days, which isshocking—while they cast captivated grins toward Audrey, who’s sitting in the middle of the rug and definitely looking like this could be the crawling moment.
Her chubby hands are planted on the floor in front of her, knees tucked under her lavender tutu skirt, while she rocks forward and backward.
Fortuna sits on the opposite corner of the rug and waves a pink balloon at her. “Come on,nenita. You can do it. I see you.”
“Mamá.” Gracielatsksfrom one of the cushy chairs that flank the rug. “Don’t give her a balloon. It’s a choking hazard.”
“Tscht.” Fortuna flips the balloon at her. “She can’t fit this whole balloon in her mouth,mijita. Talk to me after you raise four children. Or evenone.”
Graciela rolls her eyes and sips her champagne, then leans mischievously toward Georgia, who’s seated in the chair next to her. “My mother resents all four of her children because it’s becoming increasingly obvious that none of us will give her grandchildren.” She salutes Elle with the champagne flute. “That is why Elle and Colin are her favorites, even though they’re not technically related to us.”
Elle smiles as she twirls the tip of her honey-hued ponytail around her finger. “Does that mean poor Isla’s prenup didn’t include producing an heir by a certain time after the wedding?”
I smirk at her, and she catches my gaze, offering me a wink.
Elle isstillnot a fan of the impending nuptials between Isla and Malachi. And the weekend during which we totally faked being a couple in front of my surrogate family—when she drunkenly insisted that we rescue Isla—is alsostillour little secret. After all, it doesn’t really matter that it was fake at the time.
It’s all real now.
Realperfect.
Almostperfect, that is. The last component to achieving perfection is coming shortly.
“No.” Gracielatsksagain. “He’s not that bad, Elle. Isla will be fine. They dated when they were teenagers and they liked each other just fine then. She just doesn’t like being told what to do byPapá.She’ll get over it, they’ll fall in love again, and they’ll be happy.”
“Hmph.” Elle crosses her arms over her chest. “I still think it’s a terrible reason to marry someone.”
