by Sarah Skye
I laugh. “No problem, I’m happy to listen.” I turn to look at Eva, who’s pinching my stubbled cheeks with her tiny hands. “Manatees are my favorite.”
His wife Shay walks over and gives me a hug. I turn and introduce the three of them to Harmony. Harmony exchanges a few polite niceties with them before her phone rings and she excuses herself.
“Okay, sweetie. Let’s give Uncle Marco a break,” Shay says. “Why don’t you sit at the table and have a cupcake?”
Eva’s deep brown eyes turn to saucers as she nods excitedly. Wes takes her from me, helps her onto a chair, and sets a small plate with a funfetti cupcake on it in front of her.
I thank them for coming on such short notice.
“We were happy to,” Wes says.
“We’re so thrilled for you guys.” Shay beams at me.
Morgan walks over to give them hugs, then kisses the top of Eva’s head before wiping the frosting she’s smeared on her face.
I was shocked when Morgan told me right after we found out about her pregnancy that she wanted to find her brother. That would involve talking to her dad in prison, which she seemed hesitant to do the one time she mentioned it to me. But she was determined.
A month later, she had tracked down her brother, Wes Paulsen. He was just a few years older than Morgan and lived in Oregon with his wife Shay and their toddler daughter Eva. And he was ecstatic to find out he had a sibling.
I still remember the look on Morgan’s face when we road tripped to Oregon to meet Wes and his family, the tears of joy she cried when she hugged Wes for the first time. How giddy she was to see his wife and cuddle their daughter.
We’ve met up with them twice since then. Once on a weekend getaway to Half Moon Bay, and once on an overnight camping trip. And we Facetime every couple of weeks. Observing Morgan and Wes now, you’d never guess they were long-lost half-siblings. The way Morgan’s face lights up as she chats with Shay and plays with Eva makes my chest ache yet again. This. This is the family she’s always wanted—the family I have always wanted. We’re making it together.
I stand off to the side and watch as she dishes up a small sandwich slice for Eva. When Eva says, “thank you, Auntie Morgan,” Morgan pauses, like she’s soaking in the moment. She catches eyes with me. She walks over and cuddles into my chest as I hug my arms around her.
She glances over at the giant balloon. “You ready?”
“Let’s do it.”
32
EPILOGUE
MORGAN
I feel so gooey.
Not gooey like when Marco and I fell in the mud on our hike. Not gooey like that time on a shoot when I had to be doused in acrylic paint. Gooey like my insides are melted like those campfire-roasted bananas Lily loves so much. Sweet gooey. Ready to turn into a puddle on the floor gooey.
Blissed-out, over-the-moon gooey.
Universe, I know there will be moments ahead that aren’t this perfect. But, seriously. Thank you for this. I didn’t know happy had this kind of depth.
While I bask in the glow of second-trimester pregnancy with all of my—our—friends and family milling around and having a good time, it really does seem that life couldn’t get any better.
“Psst. Psst. Come here a sec!”
I whip around and see Lily grinning at me. She waves me to follow her down the hall to Marco’s study. “What are you up to?” I ask with a suspicious grin as she stands with her hands behind her back.
She holds out a small box with a silver bow on it. “For you.”
“You came in with a busload of gifts.”
“I know but I wanted to get you something a little extra. You’re the face of a brand now. That’s a huge deal and it deserves its own recognition.”
I can’t help but beam. Brenna from the recycled water bottle yoga pants clothing line asked me to be the spokesperson for her new line of maternity activewear. I of course said yes. It’s always been my dream to be the face of a clothing line, and it’s happening right now—right alongside my other dream of becoming a mom.
When I start to get the slightest bit choked up, I shake my head at Lily, still smiling. “I already said not to—”
“Hush and open it already,” she laughs, cutting me off.
I groan and set the box on the desk, then pluck the ribbon off and lift the lid.
“Oh, Lily,” I gasp. Emotion chokes off any more words.
Inside the box is a sculpture. The figures are a mother and child, facing each other with their heads touching to create a heart shape. It fits in the palm of my hand and is instantly one of my most prized possessions.
I tear my gaze from the figures to look at her, and two tears roll down my face.
She covers her mouth, her own dark eyes glittering. “I think you like it?”
“Hush and hug me already,” I croak as I wipe my cheeks. “When did you make this? It’s smaller than your usual work.”
“I know, it was tough to get just right on that scale,” she laughs into my shoulder as we hug. “But it felt like the right dimensions somehow. Been working on it for a while now. I, uh, actually made two of them.”
She steps back and lays a hand on her stomach. It takes me a second before her words sink in. When they do, my jaw unhinges.
“You’re???” I whisper-shriek.
She bites her lip. “I’m not sure. I’m a week late, but we’ve not not been trying, if you know what I mean. If not now, soon hopefully?”
I throw my arms around her and squeal, and she laughs and squeals right back.
“Figure your little one will need some cousins to play with. I mean, Eva will be great, but she’s a few years older,” she says as we break apart again.
My heart stutters, then explodes. Those simple sentences have more depth to me than Lily may ever know. “Oh, my god,” I choke. “Cousins. Family. Friends. I mean, I just… how can I be this happy?”
“Karma,” Lily says, no trace of teasing. “You’ve put in so much work, Morgan. You deserve all the happiness. And,” she rubs her stomach again, “I know how you feel. Growing up like I did, having you and Harmony and all this love? It’s a literal dream come true for me, too.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t ghost me over Marco,” I weep. I’ve said it a thousand times, drunk at least once or twice, but I can’t stop myself.
She laughs and groans. “I know, I know. Come on, let’s get back to the party.”
“You know you have to call me the second you take the test,” I say as I follow her back down the hall. She winks over her shoulder. I know she will.
“Morgan!”
Marco’s tone is just a little too cheery. I find him standing in the center of the room, a slightly strained smile on his face. He’s surrounded by Gram, his mother, and just about every other woman who came to the party. My poor fiance is clearly up to his neck in entertaining duties.
Swallowing a laugh, I hurry to his side and wrap one arm around his waist. “What’s going on?”
“We were just trying to grill Marco for the big secret,” Gram says with a cackle. “No big deal.”
“I’m sweating bullets here,” he mutters to me.
I just laugh. “Well,” I say after a moment, “we’ll pop the balloon in just a few. Harmony was in charge of gathering everyone’s predictions in the bowl on the table. Harmony, are we all good?”
“Huh?” she blurts, and it takes me a second to find her. She’s in the corner, phone in hand. She’s maybe the only woman here not huddled around Marco right now. All the guys seem to be out on the porch, sipping whisky with Calder.
“Oh, uh, I think so. Sorry, yes, can everyone be sure to put their guess in the bowl? Everyone who guesses right wins a little prize.”
I give Harmony a concerned glance that she doesn’t notice while several guests go to pitch in their prediction. Making a note to ask her if she’s okay later, I look around. “Once all the guesses are in, I’ll pop it.”
“Have you been thinking of names?” Mar
co’s mom asks in the meantime.
Marco and I trade a look and try not to grin.
He begins. “We want to honor where we came from either way. Honor the things and people that really had an impact. So, for a boy, we like Swift, after Taylor Swift.”
Gram blinks. Lily blinks. Marco’s mom clears her throat. Shay’s brows twitch as she curves her mouth into a smile.
“Not Taylor?” Gram asks.
“No, that’s too general,” I say quickly. “Swift Paulsen-Woodruff is much more unique.”
“Indeed,” Gram murmurs.
“If it’s a girl,” I continue, “the choice seemed easy. Her name will be Sofia Nina Paulsen-Woodruff.”
Now, those blinks become teary eyes. Marco’s mom sniffles. Shay bites her lip and squeals.
“Guess we know which one you all are hoping for,” Marco chuckles.
“Oh, you two,” Gram weeps, and for a moment I’m speechless. Gram never weeps. It makes me even gooier inside.
“All the votes are in!” Harmony cries.
Perfect timing.
We glance around at all our people while the men troop in from the patio. Nothing but smiling faces and the highest, happiest, purest vibes today.
I pick up the pin. Marco picks me up. He lifts me in his arms to the yellow balloon stuck to the ceiling while everyone begins to clap. “So many feels” he murmurs to me just as I raise my arm.
We trade a glance of understanding. A glance that says what we said long ago. All the reasons us falling in love was crazy mean nothing. This is real. This is love. And we both fucking deserve it.
I keep my eyes on the love of my life and raise the pin to the yellow latex. As pink confetti rains down on us and everyone shrieks, my lips find his. I can taste the salt of a single tear there, but he’s grinning so hard that I have to laugh, too.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, there are so many lovely people who helped bring this book into the world.
First of all, thank you to our friends, Stefanie Simpson, Sonia Palermo, and JL Peridot for critiquing this book and offering such insightful feedback. We love you all so much, you helped make this book what it is. Thank you to Lauren Cosby for beta reading both our novels and giving us invaluable feedback from a reader’s pov.
Thank you Elle Maxwell for designing another gorgeous cover.
Thank you to the Psychology In Seattle podcast/YouTube channel for educating us in attachment theory.
Thank you to Marco Andre daSilva for having the most entertaining TikTok and Instagram ever and for being the perfect book boyfriend inspo. Thank you to BTS for existing and bringing delight in this too-dark world.
Thank you to our families, friends, and fur babies for the unending support you give us, and for always cheering us on, even when we’re cranky.
And thank you, thank you, thank you to our readers who have supported us from day one. We weren’t sure if we’d write another book together after Sips & Strokes. You showed that book so much love and kept asking about a sequel, and that gave us the confidence to write Vibes & Feels. You mean the world to us!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This is the second book by romance duo Sarah Smith & Skye McDonald, aka Sarah Skye.
Sarah and Skye met on Twitter as fledgling authors seeking critique partners. That turned into a brilliant friendship, a joint podcast (Quick & Dirty Romance Podcast), and now a romance series. Although they live on opposite coasts (Sarah is in Oregon, Skye is in New Jersey), they share a deep love of hiking, pets, good food, and of course steamy romances.
Find out more about Sarah Smith here.
Find out more about Skye McDonald here.
ALSO BY SARAH SKYE
SIPS & STROKES
Sarah Smith’s Books:
FAKER
SIMMER DOWN
IF YOU NEVER COME BACK
ON LOCATION
Skye McDonald’s Books
NOT SUITABLE FOR WORK
OFF THE RECORD
NEMESIS