Epilogue

ONE YEAR LATER

It’s bring-Gabe-to-work day. This is an unofficial holiday I’ve declared because every night when I get home from work, he demands to know when he can come see the houses I’m working on. It’s been a little tricky because, well, I don’t want him to see the houses before Maddie does.

But today she’s home from work for her twenty-week ultrasound, which is where the three of us will go as soon as we’re done here, and—

Oh, I’m sorry, did I leave that part out?

Right. So. Maddie is pregnant.

We decided we couldn’t let Gabe get too complacent with his only-child status. Plus Sienna and my mom kept asking for more babies and we didn’t want to disappoint. Just kidding. About the not-wanting-to-disappoint part. The harassment was real. And relentless.

Maddie and Gabe get out of her car and come up to the trailer-office.

“Daddy!” Gabe yells, catapulting himself into my arms.

“Hey, Jack,” Maddie says, strolling up behind him, giving me a private smile that goes straight to my dick.

Maddie is just starting to look pregnant, and I get a sick, alpha-male kick out of having knocked her up. Also because her tits are epic. I may have to keep her pregnant for the rest of her fertile life. She actually might not mind. It’s been a good pregnancy and she loves feeling the baby kick (as does Gabe), and she is so horny that she is asking for sex twice a day (and once confessed to making herself come pretty much every time she’s alone, which is such a fucking turn-on that I keep coming up with excuses to take Gabe to the playground and the five-and-ten, and…yeah).

Other things that have happened since last we met: I got my general contractor’s license. Studying for that exam was the hardest thing I’ve ever done except for telling Maddie the truth about not cheating on her (which is still a thing that makes me raise one eyebrow at myself in disbelief). Luckily, Maddie’s faith in me never once wavered, even when the two of us were up night after night with her quizzing me. Gabe even got in on the action and would pop-quiz me on stuff Maddie had primed him on.

I almost threw up in the testing room, but I passed.

Also, Harris dumped Mia. I’m sure you could have seen that one coming, because once an asshole, always an asshole. Mia and Harris lasted about two months after Maddie caught them dining in. Then Harris said that he’d never been that into her, really, that his therapist thought maybe he’d just been using Mia to get out of his commitment to Maddie.

Ouch. Like, ouch, ouch, ouch.

Mia asked Maddie if she’d be willing to give her another chance. She said she didn’t expect forgiveness or even trust, but she’d really, really like to meet for a cup of coffee. So they’ve been doing that. Coffee. Maddie says it’ll be a long time before she trusts Mia with anything that matters, and I think it’s good to be cautious, but I also think they’ll be okay, someday. And I’m in favor of it, Maddie forgiving Mia. Everyone makes mistakes, and love can make us really, really stupid.

It can also make us our best selves. I should know.

“Hey,” I say, as they reach the trailer. I let Gabe come inside and look around (although there’s nothing exciting about it—just desks and computers and blueprints and files, the most complete records of everything that happens anywhere on my building site that you can imagine). He sits in my chair and spins it around, and then he asks to see inside the houses.

Most of the other houses being built in Revere Lake right now are McMansions, but I chose to work with this developer on my first big project because he wanted to build not-so-big and more affordable designs. And we’re both pretty damn excited about the houses that are coming out of our collaboration. They’ve got relatively small footprints but a great open feel, lots of light, lots of nooks and crannies for kids and storage—and they all sold within a couple of days of us finishing the model house.

Luckily, I can still tell Gabe he can see inside the houses, because there is one house that, even though it’s sold, isn’t yet occupied. The new owners are waiting to move in because—well, because.

So we head down to the end of the cul-de-sac.

This one is my favorite. It backs up on wooded conservation land, which means that no matter how developed Revere Lake gets, this house will keep its secluded, private feel and its beautiful view overlooking a little stream. It has the best light of any house in the development, because I personally made sure the angle of the house on the lot brought in plenty of sun and no direct views of its neighbors.

I open the front door and lead them inside. The main floor has an open design and the second floor overlooks it from a balcony, so the foyer feels big and open and flooded with light even though it’s not actually that big in terms of square footage. Gabe squeals over the balcony and runs up the stairs right away so he can look out from between the railings. I made sure the railings were spaced so there was no way he could poke his head through.

I lead Maddie into the kitchen, which is small but efficient. Good appliances, solid cabinetry, excellent countertop materials—but not the ones that are trendy and expensive. Ones that are worth their cost.

“This is nice,” she says wistfully. She runs a hand over the glossy surface of the countertop and touches the controls on the stove.

“Could you picture yourself making dinner here?” I ask.

She laughs. “I wish.”

“Do you?”

“I’d love to live here. It’s beautiful.”

I smile and watch her as she explores the space—the kitchen opens into the dining and living areas, and there’s a little bathroom and a small TV/away room tucked into the corner. She goes up the stairs, and I follow, admiring the rear view, watching as she and Gabe tuck their curious faces into the spaces. There are built-in bunks in one of the kids’ bedrooms and the other is painted to be a nursery. There’s a third kids’ bedroom, too. Thinking ahead, you know?

And then she turns into the master bedroom and comes to a dead stop in the doorway. Gabe crashes into her from behind and wraps his arms around her leg to restore his balance.

There’s a bed in there, and it’s made up. I made it up to exactly match the bedroom in our house (the Revere Lake house formerly known as “my house”). And just in case she didn’t get the point, I folded a pair of my pj’s on the left-side pillow and a pair of her pj’s—

Although, I’m not sure you could actually call them pj’s. Remember that bodysuit, consisting mainly of black leather straps, and not so terribly many of them, that she liberated from Harris’s house?

I have become much better acquainted with it of late. Anyway, it’s on the right-hand pillow. (Not that she doesn’t already know how much I appreciate it. I have made that abundantly clear.)

“Jack?”

Her gaze bounces from my face to the bed and back. She’s clearly trying to figure out if it means what she thinks it means, and for a moment I panic. What if it’s not what she wants? A house is a pretty big gift not to consult her on.

But then she throws her arms around my neck and kisses me in a way that I’m pretty sure indicates a yes.

She pulls back. “For real, Jack? This is ours?”

I nod. It’s occurred to me that I’m choked up enough that if I try to actually answer, I’ll sound like a tool.

“Oh, my God, Jack, I love it. I love it.”

Her eyes fill suddenly with tears.

“Oh,” I say. “Oh, no. Don’t cry. You can’t cry. Think of the children.”