Page 72 of Perfect Pact
Epilogue
Dusty
Amonthhaspassedsince we surprised Beth and the people of Mason Creek showed us this small town is big on second chances and surprises.
I can see why my grandparents loved it here. I feel a pang in my chest as I put the finishing touches on the swing. A quick peek over my shoulder lets me know she’s still down at the barn. It’s coming along great—The Backyard Barn.
I have to hand it to her, she knew what she was doing. Her vision has come to life in a big way.
I never know what I’m gonna come home to. Pet parties, adoption days working with local animal shelters, family reunions, weddings, showers—you name it. They even have these fancy BYOB painting parties. I think they’re called Sippin’ & Splatter’n. Sounds like a mess if you ask me. I think for some of these ladies needing a night out, it’s more about the sips than the splatters. But it gives me an idea of how Beth and I could get a little creative with some paint.Down, boy.
My girl mainly runs the show by herself, but when we crunched the numbers with how profitable things have been, she was able to bring on a couple college kids part-time for the summer.
It’s hard to believe the summer is almost over. I can’t wait to celebrate Labor Day with Beth in Mason Creek. I haven’t been here for a holiday in years, and no one does holidays like this place. It’s the first of many things I’m looking forward to with making this place our home.
I’m thankful to be in this house. Walking away from my life in Missouri was the easiest decision I ever made. I’m also thankful to my grandfather for believing in Beth. He made her dreams come true. Well, one of them. I’m hoping to maybe help her out with another.
And if she doesn’t want my help…well, I have my ways.
As if I summoned her, Beth comes walking up the path. The barn, a shadow behind her, against a sunset that looks like it was painted.
“You fixed the swing.” Her smile melts my heart. “It looks amazing.”
“Perfect timing, beautiful lady.”
“I’m beautiful lady now? What happened to neighbor?”
“Well, we’re not exactly neighbors anymore.” I pull her into my arms, reminding her where she belongs, and hold her tightly to my chest.
Looking down into her green eyes, I have zero doubts. She leans up, brushing her mouth on mine. I kiss her back, earning a little moan.
“Hold that thought.” Running into the house, I grab a tray, fix two glasses of ice-cold sweet tea and the plate filled with tarts before returning to sit them on the table. She’s taken her spot on the swing.
“What all this?” She looks surprised. I know when she sees the tea she remembers the nights she sat out here with my grandpa.Old traditions made new.
“Well, I just wanted you to see what life could be like.”
“Oh, you mean now that we’re bed buddies instead of enemies, you’re gonna share your pastries?”
“Darlin’, I wanna share that and a lot more.” I sit next to her and hold out the plate. “Tart?”
“So, these aren’t just for you?” She eyes me suspiciously.
‘Nope. You can have them. All of them. On one condition.”
“Oh, lord. We know how that goes.” Her eyes roll at my mad negotiating skills.
“Marry Me.” I drop the bomb I’ve been keeping since the first time I held her.
“What?”
“You heard me. Marry me.”
“You’re crazy.” Tears form in her eyes as I nod in agreement.
I stop the swing and drop down on one knee, right in front of her.
“Beth Ann Talbert,” I use her full maiden name, “will you marry me?”