Page 150 of Every Chance After

I find Marina in The Beast, lying on a blanket on the truck bed. I climb in beside her, and she scoots over to make room. We stare up into the inky night speckled with stars—they are innumerable and delicate, tiny flecks of wonder, like each could hold another love story, and ours twinkles right back at them. Lying with her, relaxing under the massive universe, fills me with gratitude for my universe—her.

Many gentle moments pass. Her hand slips into mine.

“I’m going to be a business consultant,” she says softly.

“Yes.”

“I’m a businessowner.”

“Yes,” I chuckle.

“I have a big, beautiful family.”

“Yes.”

She rolls over me, sitting up and straddling me. She nestles close, grinding against me through the thin fabric of her panties while my hands drift easily up her skirt. “I have you.”

“Always.”

She leans down, taking my bottom lip between hers for a tugging kiss. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” she smirks. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll move me in, once and for all, and then, we’ll spend the next forty-eight hours withourpets, onourdock, inourkitchen, inourbed, atourplace.”

“Good, glad to hear you say it. I added you to the deed once the cats moved in. I knew you wouldn’t be far behind. Itisour place, Marina.”

She gasps. “Grady, you didn’t have to?—”

“Darling, I wanted to. I need you to know it’s our home, our little nest.”

She giggles while her eyes well with tears.

I give her a quick kiss. “You’re always telling me to relax. Well, this is me, asking you to relax into us.”

“Okay.” Her lips press into mine with renewed desperation as she bites my lip playfully and tugs at my shirt. I smile against her, thinking we might add Beast-fucking to our impressive rotation. My hands close in against her thighs, and my thumb drifts lazily over the triangle patch of her panties. She moans at the touch.

“Think anyone would notice if we’re gone for a while?” she asks when she breaks for air.

“Fuck ‘em.”

She laughs. Then, we take each other right there, under the stars.

CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN

Marnie

The following Thursday,the team and I work on last minute tasks to prepare for G&G’s Memorial Day Extravaganza. Peter and Marigold hang outdoor lights along the railing of our freshly stained gator observation deck. Roy posts the necessary signs, warning customers not to “feed, fondle, or otherwise fuck with” the gators—his description, not mine. The sign reads more professionally than that. Christie hangs colorful banners over our new picnic and dining area, stretching from the “smoking” porch to the side of the store. Wren runs the store (busy for lunch) while Wade gives Mom, Tilly, Elena, and Carmela a register and canteen tutorial—they’ve all agreed to help with our upcoming weekend.

I check in deliveries—the beer guys, the soda guys, the local farmers and artisans here to restock for what’s expected to be G&G’s biggest weekend ever.

The billboards are up and causing buzz. The mayor has agreed to kick off our festivities tomorrow at noon. We’ve booked a band and installed a life-size chess board and an extra-largeJengaset, adding more fun—I couldn’t plan an Extravaganza without games and music. The newspaper gave us a full-page spread. And my Instagram’s been on fire this week. The event promises to be a huge success.

Today’s already busy, with locals coming by to enjoy the store before the big rush.

Even so, the last person I expect to see today (or any day) is Ashe.

I don’t see him initially—just Wade, Christie, and Roy quickstepping in my direction from the dock like Bessie might be sneaking up on me for an afternoon snack. Wade fumbles with his phone, walking while talking.

I turn from my conversation with Alice Harvey, our soaps, candles, and teas vendor, to see what’s gotten them so serious, and there’s Ashe.

He pulls off his aviator sunglasses, looking dapper in his dark blue pants, striped button-down, and silky blue tie. His curly blonde hair is tamed with product, and somehow matches his cocky smirk.

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