Page 20 of Curvy Girl and the Grumpy Cowboy

I laugh, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Especially then. Those are the parts that make you who you are."

He rolls us suddenly, pinning me beneath him with a playful growl. "I think I might be getting better at the feelings part."

"Mmm, definitely," I agree, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Very impressive progress."

His smile fades into something more tender as he studies my face in the moonlight.

"I love you, Sarah Matthews. I should have followed you to Seattle seven years ago. I should have told you every day how much you meant to me." He touches his forehead to mine. "I can't change the past, but I promise you I won't waste our future."

Tears prick at my eyes, but they're tears of joy, not sadness. "I love you too, Jackson. I always have."

He kisses me then, slow and deep and full of promise. When we part, I can't help but laugh softly.

"What?" he asks, smiling at the sound.

"It's just... who would have thought? Sarah Matthews and Jackson Covington, getting a second chance after all this time."

"I would," he says with surprising conviction. "Some things are just meant to be, no matter how long they take."

As he gathers me close against his chest, I know he's right. Seven years apart taught us both what matters most—and it isn't pride, or place, or even dreams. It's this. Us. The love we've finally found our way back to.

Tomorrow will bring challenges—telling his brothers, balancing our separate lives, figuring out exactly how we fit together now. But tonight, in the safety of each other's arms, the future looks brighter than it has in years.

For this moment, at least, that's more than enough.

Epilogue - Jackson

Two years later...

"Is this straight?" I tug at my bow tie, certain it's crooked despite Vincent's insistence.

"For the fifth time, yes," my brother sighs, batting my hands away. "Stop fiddling with it before you actually mess it up."

The guest room of Sarah's—our—farmhouse feels too tiny with all five Covington men crammed inside. Aaron and Ethan are already dressed, lounging against the wall and looking amused at my nervousness. Cole sits in the corner rocking chair, my five-month-old son fast asleep against his shoulder.

My son. James Cole Covington. Named for my father and the brother who always supported us. Sometimes I still can't believe he's real—this perfect little person with Sarah's eyes and my stubborn chin.

"Uncle Jackson is scared," Lucy announces, poking her head around the door. At seven, she's appointed herself the official wedding messenger, running between the women's preparations in the master bedroom and our significantly less organized gathering.

"I'm not scared," I protest, though my racing heart suggests otherwise. "Just want everything to be perfect."

Lucy gives me a look that's pure Charlotte. "Mommy says Aunt Sarah looks like a princess and that you're going to cry when you see her."

Vincent laughs, scooping up his daughter. "Tell your mommy to stop making predictions and help the bride."

"Kay!" She scampers off, her flower girl dress rustling.

"She's right, you know," Aaron says, checking his watch. "You are going to cry."

"Shut up," I mutter, but there's no heat in it.

They're probably right. I've become embarrassingly emotional since James was born. Last week I teared up watching Sarah sing him to sleep.

Cole stands carefully, my son still sleeping soundly against him. "It's almost time. You ready?"

The question carries more weight than the others' teasing. Cole was the hardest to win over after Sarah and I reunited. Not that he wasn't supportive—he just needed to be sure I wouldn't hurt her again. It took months of proving myself, of showing him how serious I was about building a life with her, before the wariness in his eyes completely disappeared.

Now, he's my son's godfather and he'll be my best man in an hour.

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