Page 100 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes

We stand like that, quiet and steady, the hum of the city swirling around us.

And for the first time in a long time… everything feels exactly right.

Like the chaos has settled.

Like the has story found its heartbeat.

Like home.

We’re curled together on the couch with Golden Girls reruns playing in the background as white noise. My head rests on his chest. His fingers trace lazy circles on my arm.

“You know what’s wild?” I murmur.

“What?” he asks sleepily.

“This started with a drunken wedding and somehow turned into a life.”

He kisses my hair. “You’re the best bad decision I ever made, Rox.”

I laugh softly. “Bad decision? I’m a bad decision, huh? I’ll show you a bad decision.”

The TV flickers and his heartbeat races under my lips.

Maybe we’ve been writing vows all along.

In the breakfasts and late nights and quiet apologies. In the forgiveness and laughter and stubborn love, maybe the vows were never words. Maybe they were always actions.

And if that’s true… we’ve already kept every promise that matters.

CHAPTER 25

THE BIG DECISION

ROXY

* * *

The thing about big decisions is they never wait until you’re ready.

They show up at the worst times: in the middle of your busiest season, when you’re wearing a T-shirt with salsa stains, when your inbox is on fire and your voicemail’s full and you’ve already scheduled six tastings and two site visits and promised Mari Lynn you’d be at the venue by three.

“I’ve been offered a spot at the state food truck expo,” Chase casually says over coffee, like he’s telling me we’re out of oat milk.

I freeze mid-sip. My brows rise. “The Expo?”

He nods. “In Austin. Three weeks from now. They just invited me this morning.”

I set my mug down slowly and look at him. I nod. “That’s… huge.”

“Yeah.” He watches me carefully. “It is.”

My brain scrambles to connect the dots. I mumble out loud, more to myself than to him, “That’s… four hours away. During peak wedding season.”

He nods again. “Yeah.”

I press my hands to my temples and exhale. “You’d have to close the truck here for a week.”

“Maybe longer. The Expo is a month long. And if it goes well… I could get offered a permanent spot…” He pauses.

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