Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(87)

The answer lodged in my throat, the words waiting unspoken. Because I couldn’t speak.

So I kissed her instead, kissed her until my throat eased and my heart ached. Felt her life and mine click into place, felt our hearts thread together, healed by love like Plato had said.

When I broke away, I gazed on the face I’d love my whole life.

“Was that a yes?” she said with a husky voice and a sideways smile.

“That was a hell yes.”

And I kissed her laughing lips again, the first of millions I’d collect.





Epilogue(s)





Katherine Hope: 2 days old

I blinked through a trail of sage smoke.

My mother led the train down the hall, first her, then Theo carrying the car seat with Hope nestled inside. I followed behind, smiling at the tiny, sleeping baby’s face, and my father brought up the rear, hands in his pockets and smile on his face.

Mom circled the room, sage in the air like the Olympic torch, and I sighed, too happy to be bothered.

I had a sneaking suspicion this would be my new state of mind, and I didn’t hate it one bit.

Theo set down the car seat as Mom finished cleansing the room, handing me her blanket so he could reach her seatbelt.

Hope’s eyes blinked open, and she sneezed the tiniest sneeze I had ever heard.

A collective aww sighed through the room.

“All right,” Dad said, reaching for my mother. “I think that’s enough sage.”

“Oh!” she gasped, rolling her eyes. “Silly me. Come on, Dave. Let’s go do the rest of the house.”

“Sure thing, baby.” He ushered her out, winking at me along the way. “You did good, Katie.”

My smile widened. “Thanks, Dad.”

By the time they were gone, Theo was lifting Hope out of her car seat like he’d done it a thousand times, the picture of confidence. She was so small in his big, square hands, I found myself absorbed in the sight. He cradled her for a moment as he stepped to the crib and laid her inside.

I moved to his side, my hand resting on the rail, watching him swaddle her with tender care. She was asleep again before he was finished.

For a still moment, we watched her without tangible thought, standing in her quiet room. When Theo moved, it was to slip an arm around my waist and tuck me into his side. With another sigh, I leaned into him, resting my head on his broad chest.

“So,” he started, the word rumbling through me, “when are we getting married?”

“Already trying to lock me down?”

“Since day one, Kate.”

I chuckled, my cheeks warm and heart fit to burst. “Well, we can go to the courthouse next week, if you want.”

When he didn’t speak, I shifted to look up at him. He was giving me a look, a sideways, amused, hopeful look.

“You want the whole white dress, centerpiece, first dance thing, don’t you?”

“I really do,” he answered.

With a laugh, I rolled my eyes. “Anything you want, Theo.”

“God, I love when you call me that.”

I turned in his arm, gazing up into his bottomless eyes. “Well, we’re even. I love when you call me Kate.”

“Who knew?” he said on a laugh.

“You did. You always do. It’s one of the many, many reasons I love you like I do.”

“That reminds me,” he said gently, letting me go.

In what seemed like one motion, he reached into his pocket and dropped to one knee, just like he had once before. Though instead of a garden in the moonlight, it was in our baby’s nursery, next to the occupied crib. And this time, instead of fear, I only felt a rush of emotions. They welled in me like a plume of smoke.

“I love you, Kate, and I’ll love you forever. Marry me.”

I smiled down at him, extending my left hand. “I already asked you to marry me.”

“I know, but I wanted to hear you say yes.”

With my free hand, I cupped his cheek. “Yes. You have all of my yeses, forever.”

“Forever,” he said, slipping the ring onto my third finger.

“Forever,” I echoed.

Before I could speak again, I was in his arms. And that promise was made into truth with a kiss.





Theo Hope: 1 year, 2 months, 12 days old Fireworks.

From the beginning, she was fireworks—a burst of light against the black of night. And here, in the end, our world was fireworks.

We ran down the paved path in what felt like slow motion. The golden glow and smoke of sparklers illuminated the smiling faces of everyone we loved. Those faces were soft with joy, some bright with tears. And those faces lit us up even more than the fireworks they held.

They lit Katherine up like a beacon. Her dark hair uncontained and brushing the pale skin of her back. Her cheeks high as she laughed. Her eyes shining with unshed tears. Her snowy dress cast in gold.

I saw my mother, waving and crying, tucked under my brother’s arm. Tommy, tall and dark and smiling with Amelia under his other arm. Amelia, small and delicate, her face flushed and happy and tearful. Their son was hooked on Amelia’s hip, dark as Tommy but with Amelia’s bright eyes, opening and closing his fist in his version of goodbye. Rin, elegant and beautiful, her arm around Court and swollen belly nestled into his side. Val and Sam, who had just gotten married the month before—our concession to everyone’s double wedding request.