by Staci Hart
“Not long enough.”
He chuckled. “What time is it?”
I shrugged. “We’ve got a little time.”
“You can’t be late to your own party.”
“Why not? It’s mine, isn’t it?”
Patrick stood as he finished cleaning up and rolled down his sleeves, buttoning the cuffs as he made his way over to me. “You’ve been working all day, every day for this. Even today, you’ve been at the bar since seven this morning. Who would have thought you’d be willingly getting up so early every day?”
My smile stretched wider as he stepped into me, slipping his arms around my waist, smiling down at me. “Not me.”
“Me neither. I’m proud of you, Rosie. You did it.”
My arms wound around his neck. “I did it.”
“Even when it was hard.”
I nodded. “That was weirdly when it was the most fun.”
“Do you feel ready?”
My mind skipped down the to-do list that was now a constant part of my brain. “I think we’ve done everything we can do. The last few days have just been hammering down the tiniest of details, but everything else has been decided. When we started this — really started it — I couldn’t have imagined that I’d know this much. Like, I can put together an invoice in a snap. I can call a distributor and bitch them out when my shipment doesn’t get here on time.”
“As long as it’s not in China.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I don’t know how to argue in Mandarin yet. But Cam does. And thank God for her.”
“Cooper wasn’t kidding when he said he had experts.”
“I certainly didn’t expect a nerd girl genius in a flannel and a Hulk T-shirt, but that’s exactly what I got, and she’s perfect. And the store’s perfect. And everything’s kind of perfect.”
His smile pulled up at one corner, turning it into a little bit of a smirk. “It is kind of perfect, isn’t it?”
“Mmhmm.” I nodded, really wanting to kiss him, but really not wanting to smear my lipstick all over my face, or worse — his. “Patrick?”
His eyes were on my lips like he wanted to kiss me too. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“What for?”
My hands slipped down his chest and to his tie, and I fiddled with it, avoiding his eyes. “Everything. But mostly for coming back for me. For staying. For loving me.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. You make it easy.”
“But I didn’t always.”
“No, but neither did I.”
“But we found a way,” I said. “And now, here we are. Are you scared?”
“No,” he said quietly. “Are you?”
I shook my head and looked up at him, meeting his eyes, eyes that burned like embers. “No. Not anymore. I love you. Even when we were apart, I loved you every minute of every lonely day. And I know I’ll always love you. No matter what happens.”
His hand found my cheek, slipped into my hair. “Then I’ll always be yours, Rose. Forever.”
And his lips brushed mine, the softest, gentlest of kisses, as if to seal the promise.
Within a half an hour, we were in a cab on our way to Wasted Words, getting there before everyone arrived. Nerves fluttered around in my ribcage, occasionally shooting through me in bursts, starting when I saw the sign to my bar, lit up in the twilight. Or when Cam rushed out and grabbed me, dragging me inside to approve the last minute shipment of liquor that had come in the eleventh hour. And when I saw the painting Patrick made for me hanging over the bar, right in the front where everyone would see it when they walked in.
He’d given it to me the day after Seth — a black, dripping and splattered watercolor rose at first glance, but it was also me. I could see myself in the negative space of the petals, my nose, my lashes, my lips and chin. It was the most beautiful, meaningful thing anyone had ever given to me.
I might have cried. A lot. It was perfect. He was perfect.
The last months had been everything I’d imagined. It was so easy, being with him. It always had been, but now, after everything we went through to find each other, now I knew. He said forever and meant it, and so did I.
I’d fight for him. We’d fight for each other.
Within an hour, we were greeting our friends. The music played — a real DJ with vinyl and everything — and I stood in my bar, surrounded by books and friends and love and happiness. And everything was exactly as it should be.
Patrick was at my arm all night as we made our way around the bar. All of our friends were there — the Habits gang, everyone from Tonic, Cooper’s socialite friends — the familiar faces making the night that much more meaningful. There were some less familiar people there too — book bloggers and publishers, editors and some indie writers we’d partnered with, plus my new staff.
But not Seth. He’d kept his promise to stay gone, though we all wondered about him. Worried about him. But Patrick had let him go, and for good this time. There was no going back.
The next day marked our grand opening, so the night wasn’t overly long, just a little bit of time to celebrate the end of the hard work. Some of us would need to be there early, definitely me, possibly puking, and definitely Cam, possibly holding back my hair. But just before the party was over, Cooper stepped up to the bar and rang the brass bell.
Everyone quieted and turned to where he stood at the front of the bar.
“I wanted to thank you all for coming tonight and kicking off our newest adventure. This is a bit of of a dream come true for Rosie and me, an amalgamation of ideas and passions that turned into what you see here. But I’m only the muscle in the operation. The brains, the charm, and definitely the style is all Rose. Come on up here, Rosie, and say hi.”
Everyone turned to me, and I blushed and waved him off.
“You’re not getting off so easy,” he said, smirking, that asshole. “Come on, Rose.”
My cheeks were on fire, frozen in a smile as I made my way up to stand next to him and face all the people who were there for us, for me. I took a breath and raised my glass.
“I’m not one for big fancy speeches, so instead, I propose a toast.”
Everyone raised their glasses, waiting for me to speak, and I was filled with emotion, swallowing it down so I could speak.
“Cheers to the end, because every story that ends begins another. Cheers to beginnings, that they may be full of hope and love. And cheers to you, my friends, for being a part of ours.”
Here, here, waved through the crowd, and we drank to our future.
Cooper pulled me into him and pressed a kiss into my temple. “We did it,” he said, and I beamed, disbelieving that it was real, that it was happening, right then. And it was ours.
I walked through the crowd, first hugging Lily, the best friend I’d ever have, and she laughed, swiping at her tears as they fell. I hugged West, the beaming lumberjack, and he kissed my cheek and told me how proud he was. Then Maggie and Ellie as I passed, accepting their well wishes and congratulations, and a half dozen more people in a whirl as I made my way back to Patrick.
I found him at the edge of the crowd, standing in the middle of my universe. And when I stepped into him gently, looked up into his eyes — eyes that saw me, all of me, and loved me still — I took a body assessment.
Knees: weak.
Cheeks: flushed.
Stomach: flipped.
Eyes: glistening.
Heart: full.
And the moment he bent to kiss me was the moment that marked the beginning of the rest of my life.
Happily Ever Habits
Copyright © 2018 Staci Hart
All rights reserved.
stacihartnovels.com
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critic
al reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover design by Quirky Bird
Photography by Perrywinkle Photography
Editing by Unforeseen Editing and Grey Ink
Forever And Ever, Amen.
1
One Rule
Lily
A phone rang.
Rang was probably too delicate a term. It blared like a tornado siren, ripping me from the sweet, sweet arms of sleep long before I was ready.
“West,” I mumbled into my pillow, reaching over to shove him, “make it stop.”
But the other side of the bed was cold, the covers smooth. No big, warm body. No dip in the mattress. No West to be found.
I frowned, blinking lazily, brows drawn as I looked to his side and the siren cranked from my nightstand.
And in a snap so complete that I was instantly awake, I remembered.
“Wedding day!”
Inexplicably, I was sitting up in bed, smiling, reaching for my phone like I’d been awake for hours. A picture of West and me showed behind the Accept button. My hair was in a messy bun on top of my head, my arms around his waist and his around my shoulders. And he was kissing my forehead with the most blissful smile on his face. My favorite picture ever.
Well, until hopefully today. Because it was wedding day!
I hit Accept, grinning like a fool. “Morning, Mr. Williams.”
“Mornin’, Miss Thomas For Now.”
Somehow, my smile split wider. “How’d you sleep?”
“Terrible. I think Tricky’s spare bed is stuffed with hammers.”
“Better hammers than nails.”
“I think there were a couple of those in there too. Sleeping without you is my least favorite thing in the world, next to sleeping without you in that prisoner bed.”
“Well, that was the last night for a good long while.”
“I dunno. I think I should come over and we should take a nap.”
I smirked. “A nap, huh?”
Shuffling on the other end of the phone. “Yup. A naked nap.”
“You didn’t get enough naked napping last night?”
“Lily, twenty-two minutes before you shoved me out the door at midnight is not nearly enough time for the naked napping I’d like to do with you.”
I laughed again, my cheeks tight and high and too happy to be legal. “You’ve got me all night.”
“I’ve got you forever.”
I swear, my heart burst open like a piñata. “Yes, you do.”
A pause. Footfalls. “I’m coming over.”
My smile fell like a sack of bricks down a stairwell. “No, you aren’t.”
“Oh, yes, I am.” A door opened.
My heart stopped.
I flipped off the covers and flew out of bed for the door so fast, I might have left skid marks on the hardwood floor. The doorknob jiggled just as I threw myself into the door and threw the bolt.
“Dammit, Lily,” he said through the door.
“It’s bad luck, West. What happened to Mr. Traditional? Where’s the guy who wouldn’t sleep with me until he took me on a date?”
“That guy was a sucker. Trust me, if I’d known what I was missing, I would not have waited.” The doorknob jiggled again. “Come on. I don’t believe in that hoodoo any more than you do.”
“It’s not superstition, it’s tradition. Think of how blown your mind will be by me when you see me walking down the aisle.” My throat squeezed at the thought, and I rested my hand on the door, imagining he was doing the same. “We’re getting married today.”
“Best day of my life.” His voice was tight, rough, but I could hear him smiling when he added, “It’d be better if you’d open the damn door and let me kiss you.”
Another laugh left me, though my nose burned with unshed tears. “In your dreams, Weston.”
“Only the best ones, Lil.”
All the candy from the heart piñata exploded into glitter. “Now, go back over there and spend the day getting ready.”
“You’re kidding, right? All I have to do is shower and put on my suit. Well, that, and figure out how to entertain myself for the next eight hours.”
“I’m sure Tricky and Cooper will keep you busy. Would you send Rose over?”
“Depends.”
“I’m not opening this door for you, so give it up.”
He sighed. “You’re gonna pay for that later.”
“Ooh, I hope so.”
A chuckle. “I love you.”
“I love you too. But if you try to sneak and see me again, I’m gonna kill you.”
“We’ll see about that, Twinkle Toes.”
I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling and smiling and smiling. I wondered absently if I’d smile enough today to actually make it stick like that. Funerals sure would be awkward.
I hated to hear him walk away. Truth be told, I really had wanted to open the door. Naked naps sounded real, real nice. But I didn’t have time to lament. Within a minute, a knock rapped.
“Hey, it’s me,” Rose said. “West is locked up, and Patrick is guarding the door, so I think we’re safe.”
I unbolted the door and opened it a crack, peeking out to make sure the hallway was otherwise empty. And, once cleared, I relaxed and opened the door the rest of the way.
Rose smiled, lips together, eyes twinkling as she passed me. “You’re getting married today! I can’t even believe it.”
I closed the door and bolted it again against my fiancé. “Me either. All this planning, and it’s finally here. So surreal.”
“Well, buckle up because it’s going to get nuts, starting in—” She looked at her watch. “—forty-five minutes. We’ve got to be at Astrid’s for hair and makeup, which means we’re in a cab in fifteen. So scoot!”
She popped me on the ass, and I yelped.
“God, you don’t have to be so pushy.”
“Being pushy is my special gift to the world. Now, go. You have a bag packed, right?”
“Yup,” I said as I headed to our bedroom.
I’d moved in with West what felt like ages ago, and Rose and Tricky had taken the apartment I used to share with her. One, two, switcheroo, and we were still living across the hall from each other. I wondered how long we’d stay here, loathing the idea of moving without them once we all started having kids.
My stomach did a little backflip at the thought. Kids. Babies. With my best friend.
Because we were getting married. Today.
Life was a beautiful thing.
It was July, and the day was set to be a scorcher. But the ballet was on hiatus for me, and NYU—where West taught—was on hiatus for him. So sticky, sweaty heat it was. And I couldn’t be happier. We had an entire month of travel planned—a European tour, ending off in Greece. And I was so ready to go. Ready to start. Ready for what was next.
I pulled on my favorite sundress and a pair of white canvas sneakers, popping into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face and wrinkle my nose at my hair, which I re-bunned and shrugged off for a mess for the professionals. And a few minutes later, I snagged my bag and was ready to go.
“Your dress is at Astrid’s right?”
“I hope so,” I said on a laugh. “I couldn’t very well leave it here. I swear, West is worse than a kid at Christmas. Knowing that he isn’t allowed to see it—or me, for that matter—is driving him crazy.”
Rose snorted. “I wonder if that’s why he was poking around in the spare closet yesterday.”
“Guaranteed.”
Rose’s phone dinged with a message. “Okay, Patrick has him occupied. Let’s make a run for it.”
I gripped my overnight bag and braced myself to bolt. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“We’re not running from the cops, Lil.”
I raised a brow. “His legs are nearly twice as long as yours. You really want to take the chance?”
She sighed. “Fair enough.” Her hand gripped the doorknob, and she looke
d over her shoulder at me. “Ready?”
I nodded.
“Three … two … one!”
Rose threw open the door, and I hurried out with her in my wake. And, predictably, Rose and Tricky’s door opened.
“Hang—God, Tricky, get offa me. Lily, hold up! Wait—oof!”
A thump sounded, followed by some very masculine grunting.
“Go, go, go!” Rose yelled, running for the stairs like we were heading for a foxhole under a hail of bullets, and, laughing our asses off, we sprinted down the stairs, hanging on to the handrails so we wouldn’t break an ankle.
We burst out the door and onto the sidewalk, giggling and panting, and Rose bent, propping her hands on her knees. “He’s impossible!”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Lily!” I heard from in the stairwell. “Lil—goddamn it, Tricky, leave me be!”
“Shit!” I hissed.
Rose and I took off, screaming, Taxi! at the top of our lungs, diving into the backseat of a cab the second Rose could reach the handle.
We slunk in the seat like teenagers hiding from the cops, bent awkwardly against the door, huffing.
“Seventh and Grove, please,” I said.
“The Village?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you, and hurry!”
I snuck a glance as the cab pulled away just as West shot out from the building with Tricky on his back like a spider monkey, and I died laughing.
“I cannot believe him,” Rose said, cackling at them through the back window.
“At this stage of the game, I think he’s just trying to make a point.” I sat, adjusting my bag and unfolding my legs.
Rose pulled a notebook out of her bag and flipped it open, scanning the page. “Okay, Maggie is meeting us at Astrid’s, and we’ll have three hours to get all of our hair and makeup done. I’ve ordered lunch from Taco ’Bout It, and after Astrid’s, we’re off to the loft.”
“Look at you, all organized.”
She shrugged. “Just doing my duty as your Maid of Honor, AKA Literal Best Friend Ever.”