Page 117 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

“I’ll say,” Wes mutters.

“To be fair,” Jude adds, “I had no idea who she was when I met her. But, there was no way I was walking away from her once I found out her connection to you.”

Miles shakes his head. “It was fucked up, Wes, I know. I wish we could have handled it differently.”

Wes looks at each of them. Then at me.

“I’m proud of you,” he says. “All of you. Even if this is still weird as hell.”

“Fair,” Reid says.

Wes glances toward the door. “I should go.”

“Will you come over for dinner sometime soon?” I ask.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He turns and walks out the door and I’m so grateful he was man enough to come tonight. That horrible event has been weighing on my mind for too long.

Jude comes up behind me and his hands slide around my waist.

“Now that the heartfelt family drama is out of the way, I think we should totally break in the new massage table,” he says.

I turn just in time to catch the wicked grin spreading across his face.

Then he lifts me off the ground without warning. I yelp and clutch at his shoulders.

“Jude,” I gasp, half laughing.

He’s already moving down the hallway. “Come on. I need to test how sturdy they are.”

Reid and Miles follow without hesitation.

This is mine now. All of it.And I couldn’t be happier.

Epilogue - Jude

One year later

The ocean stretches out beyond our windows—endless blue meeting endless sky. I stand at the kitchen counter, watching Miles flip another perfect pancake while Reid arranges a platter of fresh fruit. Lola sits at the island, her legs swinging from the barstool, hair piled messily on top of her head and wearing one of my old t-shirts.

"I still can't believe this is our house," she says, reaching for her coffee.

"Believe it, baby. La Jolla is the bomb,” Reid says, sliding the fruit platter next to her. "And no more psychopath neighbors."

Miles sets a stack of pancakes in front of her. "No more worrying about seeing them when we’re out on the patio or getting the mail."

"No more stolen shirts," I add, kissing the top of her head as I pass.

Lola takes a bite and closes her eyes, making that little sound she always makes when something tastes incredible. "God, these are amazing, Miles."

"The secret is extra vanilla," he says without looking up from the stove.

Reid leans against the counter, coffee mug in hand. "The real secret is that Miles is a control freak who won't let anyone else near his spice rack."

Miles flips him off without turning around.

I grab a plate and load it with pancakes. "Remember when Blaire started that rumor about the studio being sold? Now look at you, Lola—three locations with a fourth opening next month."

Lola's smile lights up the entire kitchen as she looks around at each of us. "I couldn't have done any of this without you guys. You know that, right?"