Epilogue
The old gym was transformed once again. As Deacon led Hannah through the vine-covered pergola, he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Every newly discovered decoration made her smile brighten. Last night, after the concert and still flying over their engagement, she’d told him all about her secret mission and plans for tonight. She’d blushed adorably, and he’d kissed the trail of crimson down her neck.
Thank God for Paris. There was a thought he never thought he’d have, but it was the damn truth. Without her trip, she might not have ever decided to shake up their friendship, and where would he be now? Lonely, empty, and missing Hannah.
“Is it everything you hoped it’d be?” he asked, guiding her to a pair of open seats at a nearby table around the edge of the room. A DJ was spinning songs in the corner, and center court was filled with people.
Hannah set down her purse and smiled as she slid her arms around his waist. “It is, but it also could’ve been covered in fishing lures and I’d be just as happy. As long as I’m with you, everything is as I’d hoped it would be.”
The combination of her words and the love in her eyes astounded him. How this perfect creature loved him like she did was a miracle, one he’d never stop being grateful for. Deacon swept her hair over her shoulder and dropped a kiss on her delicate collarbone. The slightest hint of funnel cake was mixed in with her usual sweet scent, and he grinned.
They’d spent the day together, him and Hannah, showing Max their favorite rides and games at the carnival. They’d eaten their weight in funnel cake and snuck in as many covert kisses as they could, but they’d waited until they’d returned to her house before telling Max about their engagement. They’d wanted to make the day as special for him as they could.
As he’d predicted, his son had been thrilled. Deacon wasn’t sure if Max understood everything that would change, but he grasped one thing right away: he was going to have a mommy, just like Lizzie.
Max’s arms had been around Hannah’s neck before they’d even finished talking. When his sweet voice rang out crystal clear, “I wuvins you, Mommy,” there’d been no stopping her tears. Deacon could admit he’d gotten emotional, too.
Pressing another kiss to her shoulder, he took Hannah’s hand and led her out onto the dance floor. A slow song was playing, his personal favorite, because it meant he could hold his fiancée close.
“So, tell me,” he murmured a few moments later, letting his lips brush the shell of her ear, “does this mean Operation Find Your Happy is over?”
Hannah shivered at his touch. “Since I’m incandescently happy, I’d say it is.”
He nipped her earlobe, grinning at her sharp intake of breath, then leaned back to look into her eyes. Eyes shining with love. “You never needed the makeup or clothes, you know. I love you every way I can take you. I just needed to get my head out of my ass.” She smiled at that, her eyes going soft, and he said, “But please tell me the lingerie is permanent.”
Hannah laughed. “Yes, Superman, the frilly panties stay.”
“Score!”
Her head fell back with her giggles, strawberry-blonde curls tickling his arm, and Deacon swore he grew five feet taller. There was nothing better than the sound of her laugh, and if it took acting like an idiot to hear it, he’d happily act like a goofball for the rest of his days.
Cuddling her close, his fingertips skimmed across the exposed skin of her back, and he bit down a groan. With her parents babysitting Max just across the street, it made sense to stay there tonight instead of heading back to the bus or getting a hotel room. But his body ached for hers.
When he’d asked for their blessing, Bill and Lois had given it instantly. Last night they’d officially welcomed him to the family, and over dinner this evening, the five of them had talked wedding plans. Still, Deacon respected them too much to sleep outright in Hannah’s bedroom. His and Max’s things were across the hall in the guest room. That didn’t mean he didn’t plan on sneaking over in the middle of the night. A man was only so strong.
Thankfully, he was 99 percent sure Bill didn’t own a shotgun.
The slow song ended and a fast one began. Hannah glanced beyond his shoulder and beamed. “Can we take pictures now? The line doesn’t look that long, and I want one for a frame.”
“As you wish,” Deacon replied, earning another one of her laughs for the reference. She’d always had a thing for Wesley, but then, what woman didn’t love The Princess Bride?
While they waited in line, watching couples pose for the photographer, Deacon couldn’t help remembering another dance, and another picture he’d taken with the wrong girl.
If he’d opened his eyes sooner, so many things would’ve been different. But, as Hannah said, then they wouldn’t have Max. His son was the light of his life and he’d never regret anything that brought him into it, so Deacon would have to settle for thanking his lucky stars that Hannah loved him through his idiocy. And make sure every day of their future together counted.
Hannah’s sudden stillness, followed by a foreign hand coasting across his arm snapped him out of his trip down memory lane.
“Deacon Latrell. Long time no see.” A short blonde with a pixie cut squeezed his elbow, and he promptly shook her off. Undeterred, she said, “I hoped I’d run into you tonight.”
“Me, too,” another voice cut in, and Deacon glanced at the brunette at her side. “I bought tickets for your concert tomorrow. I think the whole town did.”
“Great,” he muttered, scowling at their ridiculous display. Batting their eyelashes, playing with their hair. Did they think this made them look hot?
As the blonde’s painted lips curved into a grin, Deacon suddenly recognized them. Lisa Michaels and Julianne Simms had been on the cheerleading squad with his ex. They also used to torment Hannah.
“We heard about your split with Krista,” Lisa said. “Can’t say that I’m surprised. She always was a ruthless one, but I don’t guess I need to tell you that, huh?”
Julianne nudged her friend aside. “It’s a shame we never got together in high school,” she said, shifting in such a way as to brush against him. “I used to have such a crush on you. But maybe we can make up for lost time now.”
Deacon’s vision swam with red. They had to have seen Hannah standing there. His arm, the same one Lisa had groped, was slung around her waist. And they would’ve known who she was, too, because Hannah had never been far from his side, even back in high school. His jaw ticked and his back teeth clenched, thinking of the many ways he could teach these women a few manners.
But then Hannah…his sweet, beautiful, future bride…turned in his arms and shook her head. The calm to his storm. They locked eyes, and the first thing Deacon noticed was that there wasn’t even a hint of insecurity in her expression. For once, she seemed to know her worth.
She believed he loved her. She wore his ring. That was enough for her.
Sadly, it wasn’t completely enough for him.
Smiling, Deacon slid his arms lower, settling them over the curve of his fiancée’s ass. He leaned down, nuzzling her nose, and said, “You two must not have been at the free throw championship yesterday.”
Lisa, clearly the brazen one of the duo, coughed. “No,” she said, sounding a touch frazzled, “but I’m sure you won. No one was better than number eleven in high school. You remember, I used to cheer for all your games.”
“Actually, I didn’t enter,” he told her. “I shot a few hoops, but I left the competition to the rest of the guys.” Trailing his gaze across Hannah’s pretty face, and down her slender throat to where her heartbeat fluttered, Deacon shook his head in amazement. “But I did win. Something a hell of a lot better than a trophy, too. I won this beautiful woman’s heart.”
As Hannah’s smile grew, her eyes overflowing with love, Deacon bent his head and kissed her. Right there in the photo line, he staked his claim, letting Lisa and Julianne and anyone else who might’ve missed the memo know that he was very much taken.
Deacon Latrell was off the market. Head over heels in love with Hannah Fisher, the stunning woman so many people looked over, but who shined brighter than anyone he’d ever known. He was hers, and she was his, and that made him the happiest man in Willow Creek.
When he finally lifted his head, Hannah blinked in a daze. The women were long gone, the line had moved on without them, and neither one of them gave a damn about it.
“Want to get out of here?” she asked, the slide of her eyes from his mouth to his eyes like a physical touch on his skin. Deacon bit back a groan.
“I thought you wanted pictures,” he told her, pulling her body against him so she felt what she did to him. They both moaned. “What about your mission?”
“Mission shmission,” Hannah said with a silly grin. “I’ve already found my happy…” Pressing onto her toes, she whispered against his ear, “Now I’d like to make you happy. Very, very happy.”
“Check please,” Deacon called out, raising his head to address the room as Hannah giggled into his chest.
Keeping an arm around her back, he led her out of the gym and to Bill’s car, the sound of her tinkling laugh trailing behind them. By far, it was the best Harvest Moon Dance in history.
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