Hot Stuff

“No, baby. My Sarah knows. Everything you said just now—everything you feel for me and for them—that’s the definition of cool.”

“Cripes,” Jimmy finally groans in the background, coming up to us and ripping Lauren from my arms to pull her into a hug. “The two of you are making me sick.”

I scoff. “Thank you, sir. You’re too kind.”

He snorts and then pulls Lauren even tighter into his arms. “Fucking cool it, Alexander. I’m saying you’re not fired.”

“What?” Lauren asks, trying to pry her head from his chest, but he pushes it right back.

“I’m saying he’s not fired. And he’s not a shithead. And I’m saying I guess I’m going to have to get used to him being at every goddamn Thanksgiving from now on.”

I swallow thickly. It’s not rosy. It’s not pretty. But it’s about as nice of a blessing as we’re ever going to get from Jimmy fucking Carroll.

I hold out a hand and he rolls his eyes, but he takes it in his.

“Fuck,” is all he says.

I can’t help but laugh, confirming, “You said it, sir.”

And really, that one word says it all. Because that’s life. It’s messy and complicated and almost never turns out exactly as we expect.

But if we have the faith to let it…sometimes, it turns out even better.

Sometimes, if we’re really fucking lucky, we find that one person who makes it all worth it.

I look at Lauren, and I don’t hesitate to pull her back into my arms once her dad releases her.

Yeah. I’ve definitely found that one person.

I’ve found her, and there’s no way in hell I’m ever letting go.

Six months later, Late August

Lauren

I look down at my dress as Cara works on fastening the long, exaggerated line of buttons down the back, and I have to take a huge breath to force the impending emotions from spilling out and ruining my makeup.

In some ways, I still can’t process that today is actually happening.

That I not only met the man of my dreams, but that I somehow landed him and am going to make a promise, in front of all of our friends and family, to love him forever, through all the circumstances of our lives.

And holy hell, are there circumstances.

Mostly wonderful, unimaginably lucky ones like the unexpected gift of two of the best stepchildren and a network of friends and extended family that will keep us on our toes for years to come.

Garrett’s job is, of course, what I consider a neutral circumstance, since it’s literal hero’s work, beyond important, something he loves, and a great lesson for the children we’re now going to be raising together, but also, super-dangerous, time-consuming, and often unpredictable.

And then there’s the bad—times I know will come without fail. Disappointments, arguments, and the volatile nature of having teenagers roaming the earth. We will cry, we will fight…but I know, at the end of the day, we’ll be able to lean on each other to get back on our feet.

“I still cannot believe you’re actually carrying that thing as your bouquet,” Cara says, leaning over my shoulder when she finishes the last button to jerk her chin toward the table against the wall.

I laugh at her disgust, turning around to meet her eyes so I can waggle my eyebrows in jest.

“Fat Frank is a beaut, Car. I don’t know why you think he’s so weird.”

“He’s a fish!” she exclaims with a snort. “You’re carrying a stupid fish in a stupid bowl in front of a Valentino gown, for Christ’s sake.”

I shrug, turning back to look at Frank and smiling as he swishes his fishy tail. “Garrett bought him for me on our first date. It’s when I knew I was at major risk of falling in love.”

“My dad buying you a fish made you swoon?” Sarah asks from her spot on the couch, just glancing up from her phone enough for me to know she’s talking to me.

I turn to face her completely, and Cara reaches down to spin my train around.

“Yes,” I confirm matter-of-factly. “I was borderline insane that night, spouting off about my soul connection with Frank over there like it was the New New Testament of the Bible. And instead of making fun of me…instead of trying to act cool or tough or mansplain all the ways I was mistaken, your dad offered to buy him for me.”

Holley huffs and storms toward the box of tissues on the end table next to Sarah. “Dammit, Lauren. You’re messing up my makeup!”

I giggle, my eyes starting to get a little misty themselves. “Sorry. Blame Cara for making me get all love-sick.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Holley jumps from her spot by the tissues to run and get it. When she opens the door, Shell and Chloe walk right in, leaving Bethanny in their wake to loiter under the arch of the doorframe.