The Bluff (Graham Brothers, #2)(108)

But I’m done waiting and second-guessing. I step forward and wrap my arms possessively around Winnie’s back. “I don’t want to take one more step toward my future without securing you as a part of it.”

“Oh,” she says again, a little breathlessly. But then she smiles up at me, an overwrought, vulnerable smile that shoots straight through me in the best way. “In that case, same.”

“Same? Does that mean yes?”

Winnie slips the ring on her finger, and it is a perfect fit, just like I hoped it would be. I’ve been sneaking measurements and secretly working on the design with Val. Winnie slides her hands up my chest and around my neck, beaming with the brightness of an exploding star.

“Yes. James Graham, I would love to marry you.”

I can breathe. I mean, obviously, I was breathing, but it was like going through the motions. Now, I take in breaths of air that feel fresh and new. Because Winnie said yes to being my forever. And I do mean forever. I want the kind of love my parents had. Hopefully, Winnie and I will have more time.

“I love you,” Winnie says, leaning up to press a kiss on my lips. “But I have to ask—can I unquit?”

“I’ll take it under consideration with the board. Collin may have paperwork for you to fill out.”

She groans. “Collin and his paperwork.”

There is a frantic banging on the door. “Guys!” Kyoko says. “I held off and now Pat has the mic. I think he’s about to start singing.”

Now I groan, starting to pull away, taking Winnie with me. Because this woman definitely isn’t leaving my side anytime soon.

“We’re coming,” I say, but Winnie pulls me to a stop as my hand grabs the doorknob.

“One last question,” she says. “How do you feel about VERY short engagements?”





THE END

(but keep reading for a bonus epilogue…)





BONUS EPILOGUE





Val



I think I’ve given Winnie and James enough time to kiss and make up. Or make up and kiss. Either way. He pulled up outside my studio fifteen minutes ago, so surely that’s enough time?

It’s killing me to pace inside the studio, both because I want to congratulate them on finally figuring out they belong together, but also because I have twenty minutes to get paintings loaded up in the truck and to the gallery. I’m barely going to make it as is. And Mr. Silver, the gallery owner, gave me a tiny window of time, I think honestly because he doesn’t want to carry my pieces in the gallery at all. I got the impression this is one of those things where he’s just humoring me.

Actually it was more than an impression. Mr. Silver all but said he was doing so as a favor, which can only mean Tank asked him. Probably because Lindy asked Pat who asked his dad. That’s the kind of thing the Grahams do. The kind of things friends and family do for each other.

And honestly, it’s because of this, because I don’t want to disappoint anyone else that I’m actually considering showing my work at all.

I know Lindy and Winnie think I’m just nervous or that I’m not confident in my work. They think with enough mama-birding they can push me out of the nest to fly.

But they don’t know how it feels to paint, to lose myself in my work, only to have it torn to shreds by critical words. Especially from someone I thought I cared about, who I thought cared about me.

My stomach clenches, and I look at the clock again. I’m out of time.

I burst through the garage door with one hand covering my eyes, making as much noise as possible to warn Winnie and James. From between my fingers, I see them pull apart, looking flushed but blissfully happy.

I’m shocked into stillness by the sight of James Graham actually smiling. Wow. I’m floored less by how handsome he is and more by the intense stab of envy I feel.

That. I want that.

Maybe without the cat in a bow tie.

Wait—why is there a cat in a bow tie?

“Are y’all done making up and making out yet?” I ask, grinning.

James chuckles. And looks at Winnie both like he wants to completely consume her and die fighting to protect her.

There’s that stomach squeeze again.

Maybe it’s an ulcer.

“No,” he says, as Winnie says, “Not even close.”

Disgustingly adorable.

“Yay! I’m so happy for you!”

“Then why don’t you uncover your eyes?” Winnie asks.

“Right.” I drop my hand. “I can be happy for you while also not wanting a front row seat to all this …” I’m not about to mention the sexual tension hanging like a fog between them. “Anyway. I’m really sorry to do this right now, but I need to borrow your muscles and your truck. And since you and Winnie are officially back together, I can ask, right?”

James narrows his eyes at Winnie. “Are you just using me for my truck?”

“And your muscles,” she deadpans.

I don’t have time for their flirting and banter, so I clap my hands before they start kissing again.

“Great. I’ve got three big canvases that I need to get downtown to the gallery. Like, now.”





My friends have entirely too much confidence in me. Too much unconditional love. Too much faith.