“And I messed it up,” he said, looking down at his palms. “I let the situation get out of control. I said things I regret—and then instead of stepping back, I dug in deeper. I just can’t stand the thought of anyone not treating you right.”
“I know,” she said. “You were trying to be there for me. But Owen?”
He nodded.
“You have to trust me to do what’s right for me, too. I’m going to need you—of course I will. But I also have to stand on my two feet, and sometimes that means handling things my own way. I promise I’m never going to muzzle you or give you some script you have to follow,” she added quickly. “But even if I don’t work at CUBE, it’s not like everything’s automatically going to be easy from here on out. There are still going to be things where we have to compromise or do stupid stuff. I need to know you can do things you don’t like and still get through it. That we’ll do those things for each other and not resent it.”
“We both have to live in the world,” he said, nodding. “I get what you’re saying. I do. It used to seem like the world was just my world. Whatever I wanted, whatever I did, I was the one to face the consequences. But it’s different now. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s not just my world anymore, because you’re in it. We’re in it, together. And that means I need to think about someone other than myself. I need to think about you and what you need, and I— Shit, are you crying?” he asked suddenly.
“I never cry.” She wiped away a tear. “Shh, keep talking.”
“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t keep talking when I could be kissing you.”
“Then kiss me already,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go any longer without you.”
“You don’t have to,” he said. “I love you, Rose.”
“I love you, too. I’ve known it for a while now.”
“Me, too,” he told her. “But I’m ready to say it. Which means I’m not going to stop saying it, whether you like it or not.”
She laughed. “Don’t stop.”
“I love you,” he said. “I love you. I love you.”
He took her in his arms. He’d have all the time in the world to savor her. Right now, he just needed to kiss her with every ounce of pent-up need and let her know that she was his.
Not just for a little while. Not until something else came along. Not until they changed their minds.
But forever.
Maybe it should have been scary, the way new beginnings always were. But he couldn’t help thinking, as he leaned her back among the roses scattered on her dresser, that he wasn’t worried at all.
He loved her.
That was all he needed in the world.
Epilogue
Rose brought out the orange juice and eight champagne flutes, one for each of her closest friends and the people they loved. And one for Hank, since of course he’d been invited, too.
Owen popped the bubbly, sending the cork flying as everyone cheered.
He took a bow. “Now it’s officially home,” he said as he poured.
Rose looked around the table and wondered if she’d ever been so happy. It was their first time hosting besties brunch in their new apartment, and having everyone together only reminded her how lucky she was.
At one point not so very long ago, it had seemed as though her life was over. She wished she could go back and reassure her former self that it was only just beginning. She’d tell her to spend less time worrying, less time doubting, and way less time crying over Jason. And that she should definitely close her eyes and take a chance on the stranger in her bed.
It was hard to imagine there’d ever been a time when she hadn’t known Owen’s touch, his laugh, the warmth of his body with hers. Thank God she hadn’t let him get away.
And thank God she was finally out of her studio apartment. Owen had been practically living there already, and it was too cramped for two. Not to mention his long commute to Queens.
Their new apartment was just a few blocks from Owen’s father and the workshop. Owen still spent most of his time there, working and helping his dad. Rose was there most days, too.
But now they had a place of their own. Rose’s grandmother’s bed was the centerpiece of the bedroom, along with Owen’s matching furniture. He’d built everything in the living room, too, and it worked together beautifully.
Every time she walked through the door, her heart danced. It was a reminder of him and his talents. And of their life together. The furniture was his promise to her. They were made for each other. They were made to last.
At one point, all of this would have seemed impossible.
But Crowley & Sons wasn’t just getting by anymore. It thrived.
“I saw your latest Facebook ads,” Jessie said, passing around thick slabs of French toast. “They looked so good.”
“We need to have you measure our home office space to see about making Jessie a desk,” Shawn added.
“I liked the standing desks on your website. Maybe something like that?”
Owen immediately started describing all the ways he could customize it so Jessie would have what exactly she wanted.
“Wow, I should get one of those, too,” Amanda said. “I got one from CUBE a long time ago, but the thing was crap. It broke in a year.”
Owen lifted his palms as if to say, No surprises there.
“I should have bought something better to begin with, instead of something cheap I’d have to buy twice,” Amanda grumbled.
Rose nudged Owen in the ribs and said, “See?” Because it was obvious Amanda wasn’t the only person in NYC who felt that way.
It had used to seem like the small scale of the business was a hindrance. How could Owen compete with a behemoth like CUBE? But the more time Rose had spent in Owen’s workshop, helping him with small tasks as she fretted about what to do after quitting her job, the clearer the answer became.
They didn’t have to compete. In a way, they were two different markets. Hank had seen it all along. People would always want to buy things from CUBE. But there would also be those who wanted something different. Something lasting. A work of art they could hold onto for years.
That was when Rose had an idea.
Owen didn’t want to promote himself. He didn’t have time to do that while also making each piece. It was too much, and it made him too uncomfortable.
But Rose knew how to do it. What was more, she was good at it. Really good, she’d discovered. Especially when she believed in the product—and the person—she was promoting.
It turned out she’d learned a few things from her time at CUBE. Like how to advertise and position a new brand. How to reach new customers and show them what they’d gain from investing in a Crowley & Sons original. How to encourage word of mouth and harness social media to spread the message.
Owen made the furniture. Rose brought in the sales. Together, they were building Crowley & Sons into something that would be around for years.
It would never be the biggest in the industry. But that wasn’t what they wanted. They had everything they wanted right here.
She looked around at Jessie and Shawn, Talia and Reed, and at Owen beaming beside her. Everyone was talking, laughing, eating, and catching up. She hoped Amanda didn’t feel left out with all the couples. But she was telling Hank about a new video game that had to do with outsmarting zombies, and both of them were laughing like crazy.
Maybe she’d finally make a move on her co-worker. Or maybe not. As Rose hooked her arm through Owen’s, she hoped her friend would be open to whatever came up along the way. Even if it was unexpected. Rose had thought everything needed to be just so. But her life was so much richer when she was open to surprises.
“Wait until you see the updates Rose is making to the website,” Owen told everyone, and Rose remembered to stop daydreaming about how much she loved her boyfriend
and actually pay attention to the conversation.
“We hired a photographer, who got great shots of his newest pieces,” she said. “And then I’m adding a testimonials section. I reached out to some bloggers, and they’re excited to review more local businesses in Queens.”
“That’s such a good idea,” Talia said. “Seriously, you’re amazing at this.”
Rose tried not to blush.
But Owen gave her a nudge. “Come on,” he said. “Brag a little. You are amazing at this. Way better than I ever was.”
Even Hank was quick to agree.
“But it’s still a work in progress,” Rose protested, trying to get everyone to stop talking about her.
“That’s okay,” Owen said. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. Right?”
She grinned at him. They didn’t have to be perfect.
They just had to be there for each other.
When they went into the kitchen to bring out more food, Owen pressed her against the counter and kissed her.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“You’re sexy when you pour champagne, you know that?”
“I could be burning toast and you’d still be turned on,” she teased.
“Mm, let’s find out.” His hands went dangerously close to her ass.
She wriggled out of his grasp. “Guests, remember?”
“As soon as they leave,” he whispered, drawing her back to him. “We’ll have to see how the bed is holding up after the move.”
She laughed. “I’m sure it’s still unbreakable.”
“But I installed those new restraints,” he reminder her. “Something could happen.”
“Then we’ll test it out,” she told him, kissing him again even though she’d been the one to pull away.
“Whoa, lovebirds!” Amanda swooped into the kitchen, turned around, and ran out again.
Rose grabbed the platter she’d come in for and went to the living room, flashing Owen a wink and shaking her ass as she left. And then they were back with their friends, talking and laughing, making their new apartment feel like home.
She didn’t know what might happen in the future. But she did know one thing: no matter what happened, she and Owen would figure it out.
That was the promise they’d made. And when everyone went home and Owen pulled her away from the dishes to bring her to bed, she knew it was a promise they would keep.
They were going to love each other. Beautifully, imperfectly, and with their whole hearts.
Forever.
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Acknowledgments
Thank you so much to Liz Pelletier for first floating the idea of a furniture maker for a hero, Alycia Tornetta for saying, “Go for it!” when I asked if Liz was serious, Candace Havens for seeing Owen and Rose through to their HEA, and the whole team at Entangled that does so much work to bring each book from idea to finished novel. To my agent Andrea Somberg, thank you for always being my sounding board and such a strong supporter!
There aren’t enough words of gratitude for my critique partner, Balaka Basu, who always goes above and beyond and to whom this book is dedicated. Kait Scalisi offered a reader’s key perspective when I needed it most. And to Robert, who shows me every day what a happily ever after can be. Thank you!
About the Author
Rebecca Brooks lives in New York City in an apartment filled with books. She received a PhD in English but decided it was more fun to write books than write about them. She has backpacked alone through India and Brazil, traveled by cargo boat down the Amazon River, climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, explored ice caves in Peru, trekked to the source of the Ganges, and sunbathed in Burma, but she always likes coming home to a cold beer and her hot husband in the Bronx.
Don’t miss Jessie and Shawn’s story in Wrong Bed, Right Roommate, available now!
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