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“You. Understanding and supporting. Your love. Your sweet, sweet body. And don’t get me started on that ass.”
I laugh. “Oh, you can get started on my ass any time you’d like, husband.”
His eyes heat over, the mood in here suddenly serious. “I intend to. Not tonight, but soon.” He pulls me toward him, and his mouth finds mine. His fingertips glide along my curves as he intensifies our kiss, and then he stops, picks me up into his arms, and carries me—heavy white dress and all—up to our bedroom.
It might’ve started out as a bitter rivalry, but the final score is looking pretty sweet as Lincoln Nash and I can finally face the world together.
EPILOGUE: JOLENE
Eight Months Later
I’m scrambling to get everything into place, still as surprised as the day I got the offer that I actually agreed to do this.
Sam saunters up beside me. “Are we all set?”
“All systems go,” I say. “This is your ass on the line as much as it is mine. How are you so calm?”
She laughs. “Because we’ve got this, Jo.”
I blow out a breath. “Remind me next year that this is not my forte.”
“Except it totally is. Look at this place.” She tosses her arms out wide and does a little twirl. “We made this happen, babe. And I could not be more proud of you.” She gives me a hug.
Erin, the director of charitable contributions, reached out to me to see if the podcast would like to sponsor this year’s second annual Wild Aces Charity Ball, and while it was totally an amazing idea and has done wonders for both the podcast and the event itself, it’s also been a hell of a lot of work.
I’ll be ready for a month in Hawaii after this, but I won’t get one.
Just two weeks.
I guess I can live with that.
Sam and Devin are coming, too, and we leave tomorrow. They’re getting remarried while we’re all there. It really all worked out for all of us, and she’s glowing with the same sort of happiness that I am.
Still, this was much easier last year when Lincoln took Sam to this event and we met up in an office for a secret rendezvous. That was back when I had zero hand in planning anything to do with this event other than covering it as the Aces team correspondent.
So much has changed in the last year. I’m married. We’re practically not even newlyweds anymore. I have my sweet boy Jonah, whose dad is still in Chicago and leaving us alone. And Lincoln and I have our sweet baby, too, who is two and a half months old already. The podcast has taken off, hitting number one on several different streaming charts, and I get to work with my best friend in the entire world.
Life doesn’t get much better than this, but I wouldn’t say no to a glass of wine and a full night’s sleep.
Troy Bodine from the Vegas Heat and his wife Joanie walk in, and Joanie beelines right for me. She gives me a huge hug. “That karaoke event was incredible. When can we do it again?”
I laugh. “I’ll call you when we get back from Hawaii, but feel free to do karaoke without me if you need your fix while I’m gone.”
As it turns out, Joanie has an incredible singing voice, while my own voice sounds something along the lines of a bird squawking. But Sam had this idea for a joint Vegas Heat-Vegas Aces karaoke fan event, and it turned out to be the most fun event I’ve attended in a long time.
So that’s our business nowadays—planning events, recording the podcast, raising money for charity, and having a whole lot of fun. I’m still not sure how all this fell into my lap, but I thank my lucky stars every single day. I’ve found a great circle of friends in this role, and being the coach’s wife is a whole lot of fun on game day.
Sam has become somewhat of a marketing expert since she’s been working as my assistant, and she’s been talking a lot with Joanie, who runs the entire marketing department over at the Heat. The three of us have become close along with Ellie, who is always full of good ideas, and Sam’s karaoke fan event was spawned after a rather raucous ladies’ night out.
The clock ticks closer toward seven, and I’m already feeling the exhaustion hitting me. The baby has been waking me up every three to four hours, and while Daddy pulls his weight, it’s usually a call for Mama.
And speaking of Daddy, Lincoln sidles up beside me, his hand moving down to my ass for just a beat. “Ladies,” he says to my friends, and then he lowers his lips to my ear. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress.”
“We totally heard that,” Sam says, and Lincoln doesn’t bother being embarrassed.
“You’re well aware of what happened last year, and it’s not like she’s not going to share every detail anyway,” he points out.
“Touche,” Sam says.
