THE HAPPILY EVER AFTER

The perfume from a Glade PlugIn hits my nostrils, something like Oh my Gourd or Roll the Spice. An artificial aroma announcing the impending arrival of fall. Which makes me think of my latest fall. The one where I confessed my feelings and kissed Dylan Pound, who I haven’t seen since.

“You look amazing!” Kira steps into her living room, fastening an earring. She insisted we ride together to the soft opening of my store. “Like you’re ready to conquer the world.”

I glance down at my ensemble: the navy skirt and blazer with a low-cut white shirt. Am I ready? Air fills my lungs as I take a deep breath. After all the planning, hard work, sweat, and tears, the doors open today. Worth the Wait will officially accept clients. The thought equally thrills and terrifies me.

Not to mention HE will be there. The gorgeous man who left me a note with the words, Love, Dylan.

Yep, not overthinking it at all.

“Thanks.” I straighten my shoulders. “Will Jonathan be okay? My boys can be a bit much.”

“He’s happy to help.” She offers her arm, and I wind mine through hers. “Let’s go tackle the world of ill-mannered men.”

The lighter Saturday traffic keeps the roads clear, and my van, Oatmeal, putters along. Music plays, the radio tuned to a country station, and I hum, trying to keep my mind off everything. Will people come? Did I buy enough bottled water? What’s the “special announcement” Dylan advertised on the A-Frame?

Normally, Kira helps distract me from being neurotic, but she stays quiet, fiddling with her earrings and smoothing her hair. Her fidgeting amplifies the anxiety rumbling my gut. “Do you think this is a bad idea? My business, I mean.”

“It’s a fantastic idea!” She turns in her seat, giving me her full attention. “You should be as proud of you as I am. A year ago, you didn’t even want to set up a dating profile. And now”—she grabs a tissue and dabs at her eyes—“Look at me getting all emotional.”

“Are you okay?” My eyes dart to her, landing on her tiny baby belly. Which is about the size of my mine after I eat a big dinner. “Is it Brussel Sprout? You don’t have to help today. I can handle it.” A total lie, but her baby is more important.

“We’re fine.” Her hand glides over the bump. “Relax.”

“Says the woman who can’t stop fidgeting.” Reaching for the dial, I turn the radio off. “As your best friend and the person who reads you like a nutrition label, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m just so proud of you.” She sniffles. “And I need a snack.”

“Oh… okay.”

Thus began the forty-five-minutes of delays brought to me by Kira. A breakfast taco from her favorite place turned into a desperate need for chocolate. Then a more desperate need for a bathroom. Followed by walking around the park to avoid heartburn.

At every stop, she grabbed her phone, thumbs flying as she texted. She brushed it off, just checking in with Jonathan, but it all felt deliberate. I had to be imagining things, though. Because why would she delay us? She knows how important today is.  

By the time I pick up the helium balloon bouquet I ordered (and stuff it in the back of Oatmeal), the pressure of my to-do list catches up. “No more errands, please. I promise to take you anywhere you want to go later.”

“I’m done now.” She flashes a mischievous grin.

When I pull into the parking lot, people mingle outside. A large banner hangs, announcing the grand opening. A couple of portable tables line the sidewalk, and my neon sign attaches above the door. Worth the Wait, it reads in blue lettering.

As I get closer, I see my boys with Jonathan and Nikko. They stick signs along the windows of the other storefronts. Savvy works at a table, setting out cookies and napkins. My trainer, Jason, and a few of his buddies dump ice into big, silver buckets, filling them with bottled water.

Biting my lip, I struggle to hold back my tears. I feel loved. Taken care of. For so long, I fought my battles alone. Spent forever in a relationship that constantly resulted in disappointment. But this…

“Kira,” I say, emotion clogging my voice.

“Dylan asked me to stall while they finished.” She bounces excitedly in her seat. “It would be classic for you to accidentally break your leg hanging streamers.”

“Ha ha.” I’m not even offended, and I look around, mentally checking off everything on my to-do list.

I get out of the van, pulling the balloons with me. Walking over, I accept the hellos, congratulations, and hey Anna’s with a nod. Josh and Devin give me a quick hug. And from Jason, “We’re all going to sign up.” He gestures to his friends. “Your first customers.”

Confusion leaves me feeling like one of my balloons, floating high above the scene. Here, but apart from everything below.

In a daze, I tie off the helium-filled bouquet and approach Dylan’s daughter. “Hi.”

“Hey.” She turns to me, a big smile at the ready. “Fed any disabled seagulls lately?”

“Uhh… not since last time.” I lean my hip on the table, struck by her playful tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping.” The unspoken duh hovers between us. “It’s the least I could do, Aunty Anna.”

Ah yes, Aunty Anna. A wonderful reminder that I flashed her my butt cheeks in the hospital. “Thanks,” I laugh. “You’re pretty great, Savvy.”

“I am great, and I keep telling Dad. But he’s such a worrier.” She winks at me and looks over my shoulder.

“Dad’s worry. It’s what we do.” The voice I would recognize anywhere comes from behind.

I turn around and Dylan stands there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Reflective sunglasses cover his eyes, and a snug, gray tee hugs his biceps.

He looks so good.

“Hi.” I lift my hand in a half-wave before tucking my hair back, and then settling with fists on my hips. Wonder Woman style. The whole thing reflects to me from Dylan’s glasses, and I blow out a breath.

I’m so awkward.

The corners of his lips tip up. “Can we talk inside?”

“Sure. Of course.” I follow him, and memories of our last interaction flood my cheeks with red. The way I threw myself at him. The confession of love. And then I walked away.

The store embodies the elegance and beauty I hoped for. Dylan paid attention to every detail. Signs up, decorations hung, and the beautiful navy and gray ribbons dangling. Better yet, no Annas were harmed in the preparation of opening day.

He takes off his sunglasses, setting them on the counter, and takes a breath. But I start talking first. “Before you say anything, I have to thank you. For finishing the store—which looks incredible—organizing everything, stepping up as my friend when I really needed help.” Angling to face him, my foot bumps his, and I pull back. But his leg chases mine, keeping the contact. Just friends can foot caress, right? Over-the-shoes touching isn’t even first base. Despite that, my heart beats faster. “I also need to apologize for… what I said the other day and making things awkward between us.”

“Anna—”

“Hold on. Let me finish before I lose my nerve,” I interrupt. “After you asked me to wait, I should have listened. Your friendship means everything to me. Life without your good morning texts and our evening calls sucks. Who else is going to laugh at my stupid jokes?”

He chuckles, reaching to hold my hand. And I keep rambling. Needing to get all the built-up words into the open. “You’re funny and attractive. Girls flock to you and you probably reject marriage proposals weekly. I mean, look at those deltoids.” My stiff laugh fades and my fake smile flattens. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you and ruin our friendship. So… I’ll stop.” I swallow the lump growing in my throat and stare at the where our feet connect. “No more falling for you. I’ll get over it.”

Dylan’s fingers brush my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his. His beautiful gray eyes crinkle at the corners and tenderly pass over my features, stopping at my lips. “Are you done?”

“I think so,” I mutter.

Then it happens. Dylan leans in, our knees pressing together, his hand cupping my cheek. And he kisses me. I hold still for all of three seconds as my brain processes the situation. His mouth on my mouth. His lips teasing mine.

Dylan is kissing me!

The thought spurns me into action and I kiss him back, one hand clutching his shoulder, the other wrapping around his waist. Fireworks burst in my veins, tingles and light spreading like the Fourth of July.

His fingers glide to my hair, cupping the back of my head, his hands trembling. Seconds, minutes, hours pass, lost in the sensations before he draws back, pressing his forehead to mine. His shaky breath exhales on a deep sigh.

“I love you too,” he whispers.

My lungs stop functioning and booming sparks fill my chest. My heart hurts, a good kind of ache burning through me. “You do?”

“I love everything about you. Your courage. How you tackle life. The way you make me laugh.” His lips graze the corner of my mouth, and then my jaw. “You’re perfect.”

Yep, stick a fork in me. I’m done. He’s killed me. “You’re going to make me cry and I don’t want to look like a raccoon for my opening.”

He swipes his fingers under my eyes. “We wouldn’t want that.” Then his touch drifts down my arms and he takes one of my hands with both of his. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“In the men’s changing room?” I cringe. “Yeah. I remember.”

“That night, Savvy kept asking me why I was smiling, and I finally told her that I met someone. Even then, I knew you were special.”

“Well, Santa gave me a Christmas wish, and I asked to see you again. Although, at the time, I was still calling you Deltoid Dan.”

He laughs, the sound free from my mental locket and ready to live in my heart. “I’m starting to worry that you only love me for my deltoids. I have biceps too.” He flexes his arm to prove the point, and I can’t believe this man—with the equally impressive biceps—loves me.

“You’re more than just muscles. I fell in love with your heart and your words. Like, when you wished me a Happy Valentine’s Day. Or when you stood up to Mrs. Song, telling her we’re newborn dragons.” I put my arms around his neck, snuggling into the Deltoid Den. “You’re the whole package, Dylan.”

His arms wrap me up, his breath in my hair. “You know the special announcement I advertised?”

I nod against his chest.

“It’s really just for you.” He kisses the top of my head and whispers, “Deltoid Dylan is officially off the market.”

My insides melt and I squeeze him tighter.

The alarm on my phone dings my ten-minute warning, and I pull away. “I guess it’s time for me to get my business on.”

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Unstoppable.” The smile on my face stretches so wide, I probably resemble the Joker. But I can’t help it. I’m walking outside to announce the opening of my business. Hand in hand with Dylan. The handsome man who I love. Who loves me. The man who accepts me in all my awkward glory. But most of all, I know I found something special. My happily ever after.  

And all of it, every second, was worth the wait.