by Kate Hunt
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “Call anyway.”
She smiles at me—that sweet, warm smile I wake up thinking about.
“Goodbye, Beau.”
I pull her into my arms. “Goodbye, beautiful.”
Her shoulders start to shake, and I feel her quietly sob against my chest. I hold her tighter, not letting go until her breathing evens out again. She wipes her cheeks dry as we pull apart.
“Sorry,” she murmurs.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I say. I’m the one who’s fucking sorry. I should have told you how I felt years ago.
I lean in to kiss her, then wipe a stray tear from her cheek. She offers me a sad smile, then draws in a breath and turns to go. My feet refuse to move as I watch her walk away, and I stay planted in that spot, unmoving, until she disappears into the crowd.
7
Reese
Three Weeks Later
“Thanks so much, Liz,” I say into my cellphone. “We’re all set for the presentation. See you in the morning. All right. Good night.”
After hanging up with my coworker, I make the final changes to the document, hit save, and close my laptop. I move the laptop aside and grab the container of Indian takeaway from my kitchen counter that I’ve only managed to half consume over the past two hours. It’s gone cold, but I’m too hungry to care.
I bring it over to my couch to eat. After three weeks, I’m finally getting used to how spacious and pretty my flat is. It doesn’t feel like home yet, and maybe it never quite will. But I’m slowly getting used to my new life.
These first few weeks of the new job have been a whirlwind of activity—so many meetings, so much paperwork, so many things to get used to. It’s been good, though. I’ve already learned a tremendous amount. Everything about this job has surpassed my expectations.
And yet I still catch myself wondering if I made the right decision.
Beau and I have kept in frequent contact ever since I left. I talk to him on the phone at least every other day, and we text each other all the time, too. He sends me updates about the shenanigans going on around the office, and I send him updates about adjusting to London.
In all of our long-distance communication, though, neither of us have brought up what happened over the Fourth of July weekend—and with every additional day that passes, I’ve become more and more convinced we never will.
I get it, though. What’s the point in talking about it? It’s not like we can be together right now. I mean, I guess we could be together and do the long-distance thing, but…no. That would suck. If I’m going to be with Beau, I want to be with him.
If we’re meant to end up together, we’ll end up together someday. I’m just going to keep telling myself that.
I have to, in order to keep myself from going crazy.
I’ve only eaten a few more bites of my dinner, but suddenly I no longer feel so hungry anymore. I set down the container and walk over to my living room window. The street below is softly lit from the street lamps, and there are a few people out walking—including a few different couples strolling hand-in-hand.
My chest squeezes tight. God, I miss Beau. I miss him so fucking much. Life just isn’t the same without seeing him all the time. I miss our coffee breaks, and the looks we always exchanged, and our friendly arguments about what movie we should go see on the weekend…
And I miss his touch.
We might have only had that one night together, but it’s etched permanently—vividly—into my memory. The taste of his kiss, the hungry touch of his hands, the completeness I felt when he was inside of me.
I ache for him.
One of the couples down on the street slows to a stop beneath one of the street lamps. The man wraps his arms around the woman and kisses her. A few seconds later, he lowers down onto one knee.
I press a hand to my chest and let out a little oh my God as I watch the proposal happen. I don’t even know the couple, but it’s so moving to see, and when they embrace, I can’t help but laugh with joy.
Then an awful feeling rushes through me. What if Beau meets someone else? What if he falls in love with someone else? What if he marries…
The thought is too painful to finish.
I turn from the window and feel the room start to waver. Regret courses through my veins. What am I doing, telling myself that if we’re meant to end up together, we’ll end up together someday?
No. Love doesn’t work like that. It takes effort.
I need to tell Beau how I feel. I need to know how he feels. If it was just sex to him, then fine. I’ll force myself to accept that and move on. But if he feels the same way as I do…
I walk across the room and grab my phone. I press it to my ear and try to keep my breathing calm as the line rings.
But it just keeps ringing. And ringing.
When Beau’s voicemail message starts to play, my heart skips at the sound of his voice. Then comes the beep, and silence.
“Hi,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “It’s me. Can you call me when you get this? I need to talk to you. I—”
The buzzer for my flat suddenly goes off, startling me.
“Shit,” I say into the phone. “Sorry. That was my buzzer. Listen, just…call me, please?”
I hang up and drop the phone onto my couch. It feels like the words came out all wrong, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
The buzzer sounds again and I hurry over to the door. It’s probably just someone accidentally ringing my flat—that’s happened a couple times since I moved in.
“Hello?” I say, pressing the button on the intercom, readying myself to explain they’ve got the wrong flat.
But a familiar voice comes through the speaker.
“Reese?”
Disbelief blooms in my chest. “Beau?”
8
Beau
“What are you doing here?”
Even through the crackly intercom, the surprise is obvious in Reese’s voice.
“Can I come up and tell you?” I say into the speaker.
“Yes. Yes! Of course. Come up.”
The front door to the building buzzes open, and I let myself in. I take the stairs two at a time as I hurry up to Reese’s floor. I don’t even make it all the way up before she comes rushing down to meet me. She flies into my arms and we both laugh as we embrace.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she says, pressing her face into the crook of my neck.
“And yet here I am,” I say, holding her tightly. “And I’m here to stay.”
She pulls back to look at me. “What do you mean, stay?”
“Let’s go to your apartment and talk.”
“You mean my flat?” she says, giving me a teasing smile.
“Yeah, yeah. Come on.”
When we get into her apartment—her flat, whatever—we sit down on her couch and I explain everything. I tell her about how after multiple long discussions, I convinced my manager to let me work remotely for the foreseeable future, and how I’ve spent the last few weeks getting everything in order.
“Everybody at work kept telling me I was crazy for doing this,” I say. “But I had to. I couldn’t go on with all those miles between us. I love you, Reese. I’ve been in love with you since the first day I met you.”
Her eyes glisten with tears. “I love you, too.”
Hearing her speak those words makes my heart full at last. I pull her close to me and give her a long, lingering kiss. When we look at each other again, there’s a newfound intensity in our gaze.
“I want to make a life with you, Reese,” I say.
She nods. “I want that, too.”
“I want to marry you. Have babies with you. Grow old with you.”
“I want all of that, too, Beau,” she whispers.
I stand up from the couch and dig my hand into my pocket. Reese’s eyes widen as I get down on one knee in front of her and hold up the diamond ring.
“You’re my everything,�
�� I say. “You’re my best friend. You’re the sole occupant of my heart. I should have told you how I felt about you a long time ago. But here I am, telling you now. I’m so in love with you, Reese. Will you marry me?”
“Of course I will.” Reese jumps forward to kiss me. Our arms tighten around each other. As we kiss, I feel our futures reshape and realign.
People might say that it’s impossible to predict the future, but I know one thing for sure.
We’re always going to be together.
9
Epilogue – Reese
1 Year Later
“I’m not going to make it,” I gasp, clutching my stomach with tense hands. “Oh, God. I’m going to have the baby in the car.”
“We’re almost there, Reese. We’re so close.”
I clamp my lips together and moan again in pain as another contraction hits.
“Beau,” I sob.
“We’re here,” he says, reassurance fortifying his voice.
I’m vaguely aware of the car stopping, of Beau getting out of the driver’s seat, of him rushing around to help me out of the passenger seat.
I’m in such terrible pain that I can barely walk, but Beau supports me, ushering me toward the hospital. A blur of hospital staff and clipped conversation surrounds me. And then, suddenly, I’m in a hospital bed, sweating and grunting and giving over every last part of me to the child that’s about to be born. When, at last, I feel her slide out of me and let out her first sweet cry, it feels like the world becomes twice as bright.
The nurse lays the baby on my chest and I stare down at her in disbelief.
“Beau,” I whisper, looking up at him.
“I know,” he says, swallowing, looking down at our child with damp eyes. He looks so damn proud of her. I’ve only ever seen Beau tear up one other time—and that was on our wedding day, during our vows.
I give our little one a kiss on her forehead and lift her up to Beau, who takes her gently and cradles her. As I watch the two of them, the last year of our lives flickers through my mind, and I feel so grateful for everything that’s brought us here.
Our time abroad was nothing short of amazing. In a way, because of all the different countries and cities we got to travel to for my work, it was almost like a pre-wedding honeymoon. It wasn’t actually a vacation, of course, but Beau and I snuck in as much sightseeing and exploring as we could.
I’ll always cherish the memories I have of the two of us exploring the castles of Portugal, swimming in the Mediterranean, riding bicycles along the canals in Amsterdam…and so many other things.
We were in Ireland when we learned I was pregnant. At first I thought it was a false positive—after all, I’d been diligent about taking my birth control pills—but after going to a doctor’s appointment and confirming that it was in fact true, it finally set in.
Over the next few months, Beau and I talked a lot about where we wanted to settle down and raise our family. In the end, we both agreed that we wanted to come back to the States. As much as we loved living abroad, we also couldn’t imagine settling down so far away from our family and friends. Fortunately, my firm was happy to offer me a job in the US office, and their maternity leave policy is generous.
Beau and I got married soon after coming back to the States. Since then, we’ve been in complete baby-prepping mode. Unsurprisingly, Beau has been incredible—I think he’s read more baby books than I have—and I have no doubt that he’ll also be an incredible dad.
As I look up at him now, I feel a newfound love for him fill my chest.
He started out as my best friend, became my lover and partner, and is now the father of my child.
I couldn’t ask for anything more.
Want to know what Reese and Beau are up to 10 years later?
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The Holiday Firecrackers
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Zander’s Firecracker by Ember Flint
Roman’s Firecracker by Rachelle Stevensen
Beau’s Firecracker by Kate Hunt
Hayden’s Firecracker by Megan Wade
Gunner’s Firecracker by KL Fast
Zeke’s Firecracker by Autum Remington
Adrian’s Firecracker by Barbra Campbell
Conrad’s Firecracker by M.K. Moore
About the Author
Kate Hunt writes short, sexy, feel-good romances about delicious men and the feisty heroines they can’t live without. Kate is married to her high school sweetheart, unapologetically spoils her pets, and always has a song stuck in her head.
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