Getting Played (Getting Some, #2)(74)

Epilogue


Lainey




June

I walk through the lake house on Miller Street—our house—recording footage on my phone for a goodbye video I’ll put together later on. The Lifers probably would’ve enjoyed a live post, but I opted out because there would’ve been an excellent chance I’d be a blubbery mess by the time it was done.

Every room in this house has its moments—its memories. Jason’s room, is where I told him about the baby for the first time and the attic is where he and his friends bonded over de-ghosting the house. Dean and I have made love in the master bedroom more times than I can count—and that’s also where he told me we were in this together. I walk through the beautiful nursery, the room that only family helped put together and the first place Ava slept when we brought her home.

I touch the striped navy-and-white walls in one of the spare bedrooms and remember Dean’s wicked voice and sexy suggestions. I walk through the room Grams slept in on Christmas, and where she’s stayed a few nights since when she’s come over to help us with the baby.

Down in the living room, I run my hand along the fireplace mantel and close my eyes and remember fresh-baked cookies and the feel of cuddling with Dean under a blanket while a snowstorm raged outside. There have been so many kisses in the kitchen, so much laughter that as I stand beside the marble-topped center island, the echo of it rings in my ears.

I walk to the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard, and press my hand against the pane. My eyes dart between the beautiful princess-cut engagement ring on my finger, and out to the patio where last month, Dean dropped down to one knee and popped the question—in the warm glow of the firepit and the view of the lake.

And that’s the one that does it—that makes my throat clog and my vision blur with tears. Because I’m going to miss this house so much, every room and lamp and curtain . . . and every memory we made here.

Strong arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me back against his solid chest, pressing his face into my neck, kissing the skin there.

“Time to go, Lainey.”

Facebook offered to renew my contract for Life with Lainey and I accepted. Now that the house is done, we’ll be branching out—decorating rooms in other people’s houses—and my first project in the fall is Callie’s Mom, Mrs. Carpenter’s kitchen. But for the summer, we’re taking Life with Lainey on the road, and I’m doing a six-week series of videos on the best places—bars, beaches, family spots—along the Jersey shore, as Ava and I go on tour with Dean’s band, Amber Sound. It’s going to be an adventure, but Ava’s a mellow baby, easygoing, and she loves music—Dean’s drums in particular—so I think we’ll survive.

Jason didn’t want to leave his friends to come on tour, plus he got a job at the Bagel Shop for the summer, and is taking a math class at the local college to challenge himself. So for the weeks when Dean, Ava and I will be down the shore, Jason’s going to live with Grams. Though she says having the house to herself since Dean moved in with me has done wonders for her social life—she’s excited to have Jay staying with her and Lucy for a bit.

Dean turns me around to face him and presses a firm, hot, kiss to my lips that’s meant to distract me—and it does the job.

“Don’t be sad.” He brushes the back of his hand along my cheek. “It’s going to be all good, I promise. But come on—we’ve got to go. We’re going to be late.”

Dean takes my hand and tugs me toward the door. Because while we still have a week before we leave with the band and we don’t have to clear out of the Miller Street house just yet—he’s found a house that he wants me to look at. A place he thinks will be a perfect home for us, where we’ll be able to stay forever.

Dean lifts Ava from the travel crib and talks to her in a way that makes my bones go gooey.

“Right, Ava-baby? Tell Mommy—don’t be sad.”

He hands her off to me, and I cuddle her close—smiling as I kiss her cheek and smell her soft skin and touch the baby-silk of her blond hair. She’s got her daddy’s eyes—cerulean with flecks of gold and beautiful.

We walk out to the car where Jay is already waiting. I buckle Ava into the car seat where she’ll be asleep in five minutes—a car ride is like chloroform to her. Jay climbs into the back beside her and I slide into the front passenger seat.

Behind the wheel, Dean gives me one of his dirty-boy, player smirks—and then pulls a satin scarf out of his pocket, shaking it out with the hands that I love.

I roll my eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. It’s a surprise. You love surprises—and this is going to be a good one, because you’re going to love this place. Humor me.”

I let him tie it over my eyes, and then his breath is brushing my ear as he whispers, “You look hot tied up in a scarf. We should use it again tonight.”

“Jesus, I’m right here,” Jason groans. “I can hear you.”

There’s a flinch in Dean’s voice. “Sorry, dude.”

The car starts and I feel us drive off. Dean holds my hand and my stomach swirls—because this is another new beginning. After about ten minutes, the feel of the car changes from smooth road to rocky gravel, and we come to a stop. Dean turns the car off.