“That’s fantastic!”
She rubbed her free palm up and down her thigh nervously. It was sweating again. “It really is. I couldn’t have written a more perfect job description. It’s everything I’ve been working toward.”
He was quiet for a few protracted seconds before saying, “I’m sensing a but …”
Now or never, Teague.
“I know you only opened Frankie’s up here last summer, and it’s going so well, but the job—” she took another deep breath “—the job’s in Santa Rosa, Max, back at my old agency. I’d be in charge of a child play therapy program there. Maggie—she’s running the place now—she just called and asked me to lead it. I know I should have talked to you before I accepted, but like I said, it’s everything—”
“—You’re coming home?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m coming back to Sonoma.” She was purposefully careful not to say that she was returning to River Hill. She loved Max, and she knew that he loved her. No man had ever been more demonstrative of that fact than he, but she didn’t want to presume too much either.
“Fuck Sonoma,” he grumbled. “You’re moving back to River Hill. With Mia and me.”
She let out the breath she’d held locked in her lungs while she waited for his reply. “I didn’t want to assume …”
He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was choked with emotion. “Why wouldn’t my wife live with me?”
She gasped. “Did you … can you … ” Her heart was racing, her pulse bouncing in her neck. “Did … did you just ask me to marry you?”
He chuckled nervously. “Not exactly how I’d planned to do it, but yes. Marry me, Lizzie. Come home to River Hill and be my wife.”
Before she could stop them, tears sprung forth and cascaded down her cheeks. She’d hoped that was where their relationship was heading. No woman in her mid-to-late thirties could be in a relationship for over two years and not hope for that outcome. Well, Naomi could, but she was the exception to the rule—in more ways than one. If anyone walked to the beat of her own drum, it was the charming, eccentric artist. But Lizzie was a traditionalist; she’d always wanted a family to call her own. And now she’d have it.
“Yes, Max. I’ll marry you!”
He dropped his voice low. “I love you so goddamn much, Lizzie. You don’t know how happy this makes me.”
She swiped at the tears drying on her face, and sniffled. “If it’s even half as happy as you’ve made me these past couple of years, then it’s very happy indeed.”
“I can’t wait to see you this weekend.”
“Me either,” she said with a bright smile. “I was trying to think up a fun way to surprise you when you got here. This has given me a few new ideas.”
“What sort of ideas?” he asked quietly, his voice a sexy rumble against her ear.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Fuck, I wish it was Thursday already.”
“Me too,” she sighed, wanting nothing more than to sink into his arms and never let go.
She heard a commotion in the background, and then the sound of him muffling the receiver. “Hey. Can you give me a second?”
“Sure,” she said, bouncing in her seat as excitement about the future coursed through her. She was so hopped up on happy endorphins that she couldn’t sit still if she wanted to.
Two long minutes later he was back. “If I came up tomorrow would that throw your plans out of whack?”
“You can throw my plans out of whack, anytime, Max. I’ll always want to see you.”
“All right. I can be there before noon.”
“You can?”
“Yup, Angelica just booked me a ticket.” He chuckled, and Lizzie could just about picture the fond smile he was wearing. They truly had the best friends in the world.
“I can’t wait.”
“And Lizzie?”
“Yeah, Max?”
“You might want to get a manicure.”
A manicure? “What?”
“I’ve got a huge fucking diamond burning a hole in my pocket, and our friends are demanding pictures of it on your finger the second I get there.”
She laughed, picturing Angelica standing off to the side harassing him, but then his words settled over her and she sucked in a slight breath. “Wait. You already have a ring?”
“Aww, aren’t you cute? Baby, I’ve had this ring since Christmas. Uncle Horatio knows a guy with an antique shop out in Dundee. Mia and I went to pick it out the day I took her to see Santa.”
“You did?”
“Lizzie, I’ve known I was going to marry you since Noah and Angelica’s rehearsal dinner. I’ve been waiting for this weekend for ages.”
“You were coming up here to propose?”
He laughed, and the sound set of a flutter of butterflies off in her stomach. She wasn’t sure there was a sexier sound in the world than Max Vergaras laughing softly in her ear. “Yeah, I had it all planned out, but when you sounded so unsure about moving back here, I couldn’t wait. I needed you to know that you don’t just have a place in my life. You are my life, Lizzie.”
“Oh, Max. You’re my life, too. You and Mia are everything I’ve always wanted.”
He sniffled quietly. “You too, baby. You too. I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”
“Okay. I love you, Max.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
A few seconds later, her phone went silent, and Lizzie set it down and simply sat there in quiet shock. In the last hour, all of her most fervent wishes had come true. Briefly, she pinched her arm to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming, yelping when it burned her skin. No, she was most certainly awake, and this was all definitely real.
As if to underscore that point, her phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of her. She flipped it over, and her mouth split into a big grin. There, on her screen, was a picture of Angelica, Maeve, Jess, and Naomi all giving her a thumbs up. Below the picture, the text read, “IT’S ABOUT TIME!”
Lizzie agreed. It really was.
Epilogue
Once again, Max was at a wedding.
Ben’s elbow nudged against his. “You all right?” his best friend murmured.
“Yeah,” Max breathed as he watched Lizzie and Mia walk hand-in-hand up the last few steps to meet him in front of the fireplace in The Oakwell Inn’s parlor. “I’m perfect.”
She was perfect. Her dress was simple, its clean lines emphasizing her figure with just one dramatic swoop of fabric tucked around her shoulders to leave her collarbone bare. Her blonde hair was swept into loose waves kept back from her face by some arcane magic he didn’t understand. The warm tones of her skin glowed in the rays of afternoon sun pouring into the windows; like Mother Nature had timed Lizzie’s approach to show off her quiet beauty.
She smiled at him as she let go of Mia’s hand and turned to face him. Mia stepped back next to Lizzie in the maid of honor position, and Max spared a moment to check on her. She met his eyes with nothing but happiness sparkling there.
They’d chosen a small wedding, so it was just Mia and Ben standing up with them at the makeshift altar, while their friends and family sat on the gold chiavari chairs lining the room. A familiar flicker of sadness hit him when he scanned the small assemblage, noting every one he loved, save his grandparents. They would have wanted to be here—would have tried to make it up from Argentina no matter their health—but they’d both passed on last year. Thank goodness he’d had a chance to introduce Lizzie to them before they’d gone, within days of each other. He, Lizzie, and Mia had all flown down last Christmas, and they’d spent a cozy holiday sifting through old pictures and visiting his favorite haunts from his childhood. He’d added five new dishes to Frankie’s menu when he’d gotten back, inspired by everything they’d eaten.
Now his family was down to just him and Mia, and Lizzie, of course. Her uncles were here, too; Uncle Horatio was sobbing into an embroidered handkerchief, while Uncle Jonathan
patted his back soothingly. They were delightful, and Mia adored them as much as Lizzie had as a child. There had been several visits back and forth to their home once Lizzie had moved back to River Hill permanently.
It had taken them another full year to get here, in front of these people in this room. Between the six months Lizzie had spent wrapping everything up in Portland, and the time it had taken them to get settled in to living together, they’d barely had time to plan anything—even with their friends’ extraordinary help. She’d been busy with her new job, and he’d been opening up yet another restaurant, while also trying to train managers for his franchises. So far, nobody was as good as Wendy, but he had high hopes. She still ruled the kitchen at the original Frankie’s with an iron fist, but she’d taken a break today to oversee the catering here. He hadn’t even tried to argue with her.
Max brought his attention back to the proceedings. The justice of the peace was almost done with his part; it was nearly his turn.
He lifted a hand to his breast pocket, feeling the paper inside it crinkle. He’d written out his vows just to be safe, but here, in the moment, he knew he didn’t need them. He’d memorized them the night he wrote them, pouring his heart out on paper. He wasn’t normally much of a scribe—there was a reason he liked to communicate with food, not words—but his vows had been so easy to pen it had been like sautéing onions in butter, just so … simple and good. Lizzie was easy to love, and it was easy to tell her so.
“Go ahead, Max,” the officiant said with a beatific smile.
He took a deep breath, and closed his fingers around Lizzie’s outstretched hands, two charms dangling from her wrist. Last night he’d gifted her with another charm to join the anchor he’d bought her years before, this one a small key. She’d unlocked his heart, and opened up his whole world.
“Lizzie,” he began. Then he stopped, cleared his throat, and started again, ignoring the whuff of Ben’s quiet chuckle behind him. “Lizzie. From the moment I met you, you’ve been a beacon. You’ve shined your light into every part of my life, from unexpected parenthood to friendship, to restaurant menus and new ideas. I can’t imagine being without you. I want you to know that I promise to spend every day thinking of you. It won’t be hard, because I already do. Sometimes you’re very distracting.” He held up the bandaged pinky finger of his right hand, the result of a sloppy knife cut two days ago, and heard Wendy’s distinct whoop of laughter at the back of the room. “I promise to always support you in whatever you do, and bring snacks to your office whenever you want them.” Another chuckle swept the room. “I promise to put your name on all of my menus—” He already had, in fact. Every single one of his restaurants served a dish named after her, and he had more planned. “And to watch every movie on your list of must-see historical dramas.” This was commitment, after all. He plunged forward. “I promise to spend every moment grateful that we found each other, and made our way through every complication life could throw at us, and to always remember how very lucky I am that you chose me, and stuck with me. I’ll try to be the best husband I can be, and the best friend you deserve.”
Lizzie’s eyes glimmered with happy tears as she looked up at him, fingers tightening around his. She licked her lips, and he resisted all of the wildly inappropriate urges it gave him while she took her own deep breath and started to speak. “Max. You’ve been there for me in more ways than I can ever count, and I promise to return the favor every day of my life. You’ve helped me become a better person with your kindness, your goodness, and your grace— and let’s not forget the food.”
Somebody in the audience muttered “Amen.” It might have been Angelica, but he wasn’t sure, since he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his bride.
Lizzie went on. “You’re the best person I know. I wake up every day grateful to you for being in my life, and thankful that we found the strength together to work hard to get here. I promise to love you without measure, and to listen to all of your ideas, and to taste test all of your new menu items, even the weird ones.” The tapioca-based salad dressing had not gone over well. “I promise to catch you if you fall, and fly alongside you when you soar. I promise to go to every restaurant opening and every school show.” Mia hiccuped a small giggle, then sniffled, and Lizzie reached back with her free hand to clasp Mia’s fingers briefly. “I’ll try to be the best wife I can be, and the best friend that you deserve, too.”
Ben nudged Max’s elbow, and he managed to tear his eyes away from Lizzie’s mesmerizing gaze long enough to realize that he was being handed the rings. He plucked the band that matched the tear-shaped diamond he’d slipped on her finger a year ago off the little pillow and slid it on with shaking hands. Hers were rock-steady as she did the same with the plain titanium band that went onto his finger. There was a silicone version waiting for him at home that he’d use in the kitchen, too. She’d ordered it as a surprise and shown it to him this morning, and he’d expressed his gratitude so thoroughly they’d barely made it to their own wedding on time.
Now, the officiant was pronouncing them man and wife, and Lizzie was beaming up at him, and Max didn’t even bother to wait for permission before he gathered her into his arms and sealed his lips to hers. He lost himself in the kiss, the fingers of his free hand still tangled in hers while he brought his newly-ringed hand up to cup her cheek. He slid his thumb along her jaw as he tasted the rich sweetness of her lips, and she swayed closer to him.
Eventually somebody cleared their throat loudly enough for him to notice. Reluctantly, he pulled away from Lizzie. Mia’s giggles were loud enough to be heard throughout the room, and he grinned at his niece as he wrapped his arm around Lizzie and turned them to face the audience. On her other side, Lizzie reached out to gather the girl against her with her free arm, and they presented themselves as a united family to their applauding friends.
As they made their way through the crowd, Max let his gaze linger on all of his friends, marveling at the changes the years had brought to River Hill. There were Noah and Angelica, still the backbone of their group after all this time. They’d made so many memories together since Angelica had first come to River Hill to renovate The Oakwell. And the two of them were on to making more; they’d just finished building a barn that linked Noah’s vineyard to Angelica’s inn, making it the new tasting room for Stonewell Vineyards. They’d filmed the entire build for Angelica’s TV show, of course. Her filming schedule was still rigorous these days, but Noah often travelled with her, perched behind the cameras with their tiny six-month-old son in a carrier slung about his large torso.
And speaking of babies, there were Maeve and Jess, side by side as Ben went to rejoin his wife. Somehow, the two women had conspired to get pregnant at the same time, Maeve with her first and Jess with a sibling for little Maria, and they were deeply smug about the whole thing. They reached out from either side to embrace Lizzie as closely as they could behind nearly eight months of baby bump. Max grinned at Ben and Sean, the former still looking a little dazed at the idea of fatherhood and the latter deeply comfortable with it. Maria was already learning to bake alongside her father, although thus far nobody had been subjected to her creations. Not until her tiny hands learned to measure a little better, anyway.
Naomi and Iain completed the crowd, barreling right in to join the giant group hug that was forming. They’d happily sponsored Mia’s most recent art excursion, which had involved tours of several different art schools. She was barely thirteen, so Max hardly thought she was ready to think about college, but Naomi had described some of the studios so glowingly that Mia had been completely unstoppable in her desire to visit. She’d wound up applying and being accepted to several art-based summer programs for young adults, and Naomi was nearly as smug as Jess and Maeve were. Iain, of course, just grinned cheerfully at anybody and everybody around, and somehow people found themselves doing what he wanted them to do.
Which was how Max had been talked into his latest venture—a Frankie’s-branded marketplace where t
he vendors and distributors he’d worked with for the last ten years could sell some of the amazing local products he used in all of his restaurants. Ben had brought the lease for the space over last night, and he already had contracts in hand from Iain and Noah to sell their wares. Buzz about the market was growing, and he’d had inquiries from other vendors and restaurant owners all over Sonoma. He also had a strong suspicion that Angelica had something up her sleeve regarding the renovation of the space he was planning to use.
Today, this moment right here, was the culmination of all of his years in River Hill, with the people he loved, and Lizzie beside him to make it all happen. He couldn’t imagine doing it any other way than with this special group of friends beside him. He couldn’t imagine doing anything without them, honestly—this wedding included.
And so here they were, gathered together again as they would continue to gather for the rest of their lives, love and laughter ringing out into the room as friends became family one more time. This was just the beginning of their forever, and Max couldn’t wait to see what came next.
The End
Acknowledgments
From Rebecca:
Back in 2017, I stumbled upon some stock photos of hot men doing hot things, and an idea was born. Never could I have predicted what an amazing experience writing this series with Jamaila would be. Whether it was long car rides together where we plotted (!!) our characters’ journeys, or (literal) long walks on the beach, it’s been a joy. They say to write what you love and this job will never feel like work, and I can say from the bottom of my heart that is true for the time we spent writing this series. Thanks, as always, to my husband for supporting me and believing in my talent. Every time I’ve wanted to chase a trend, he reminds me about what we’ve accomplished with our Vintner, Distiller, Baker, Barista, and now our Chef, and why I love writing stories about good food, good booze, and good people. Thank you to the many professionals who weighed in on these characters so that they were as authentic as possible, especially Brad, Danny, Grady, and Ana at Mercury Vineyards, who patiently answered all my questions about wine making in Sonoma County from the outset of this series. And finally, many thanks to Anthony Bourdain, who made me want to write about a badass chef with a big heart in the first place. You may be gone, but your legacy will never be forgotten.
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