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  A smile spread slowly across Michelle’s face, and she finally pushed herself fully into Diane’s arms and sighed into their kiss. Their lips touched forcefully and passionately, coming together in a fit of longing and affection. Diane sighed and drew Michelle closer, her hands landing possessively on Michelle’s face as their lips parted and tongues touched. The kiss started feverishly at first, but slowly melted into a long, savoring embrace.

  “I’ve missed you,” Michelle said, once their kiss finally broke. “You have no idea.”

  “You don’t have to miss me anymore,” Diane said. Their arms wrapped lazily around one another, Diane’s head floating in a cloud of bliss. “Now that I’ll be your feisty neighbor once again.”

  Michelle leaned back. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank God,” Michelle sighed. “Do you know how many times I had to drag my dingbat cat back from across the street?”

  Diane chuckled. “How is my furry gremlin?” she asked. “You think he’ll be okay sharing you more often?”

  “I don’t think he’ll mind.” Michelle smiled.

  “Good,” Diane said, “because I came here to see if you’d join me on a date. Maybe on Friday?”

  “Seriously?”

  Diane frowned. “Of course. What’s wrong?”

  “Let me get this straight,” Michelle said, in a teasing tone, “you came all this way to surprise me, say you love me, and then you ask me on a date?”

  Diane’s heart raced, as she scooped up a loose strand of Michelle’s hair and tucked it behind her ear. “Yes. I did.”

  Michelle looked Diane in the eyes and arched a brow. “It’s pretty dramatic don’t you think?”

  Diane snorted. “It’s not dramatic. It’s romantic.”

  “I mean, it’s not as romantic as building an entire ceiling full of glass, to conjure up a beloved childhood memory for this incredible woman I fell in love with, but I guess it’ll do,” Michelle said, shrugging. “At least you tried.”

  Diane smacked Michelle’s arm. “You are impossible.”

  “I am, but you seem to like it.”

  “Is this how it’s going to be?” Diane asked, pulling Michelle closer, “dealing with that snarky mouth of yours?”

  Michelle grinned. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “That’s not going anywhere.”

  “Good,” Diane said, running her hands in Michelle’s hair and kissing her sweetly. “I rather like it.”

  EPILOGUE

  A warm, late summer sun coated Michelle’s back field, draping the wedding scene in lustrous oranges and sweet honey yellows. The earthy aroma of freshly cut grass only embellished the romantic setting more, Diane thought, scooping herself another ladle of the harvest punch—a tangy blend of cider and cinnamon and fruity wine—she couldn’t get enough of. Filling the tent, folky vocals and a chirpy mandolin streamed from the DJ’s speakers behind her, as she lingered by the refreshments, while Sawyer and Autumn enjoyed their first dance together. She turned around. All eyes were on the happy newlyweds on the dance floor. Except hers. Diane’s attention drifted. Holding her niece’s hands, Michelle swayed her hips and twirled Maya to the rhythm of the song, that breathtaking smile of Michelle’s filling Diane’s heart until it was practically overflowing.

  Others might attest to the air smelling richer and the sun being more inviting than ever from surviving a long, relentless winter in the Northeast. But Diane knew better. The last nine months with Michelle were incredible. Mind-bogglingly wonderful, to be honest. Any apprehension Diane had about getting into a relationship so soon after her divorce were quickly squelched. Michelle was patient. Understanding and compassionate. And Diane was equally tender with Michelle, handling her vulnerability with the utmost care. They agreed to start their relationship slowly—casual dates and dinners out and movie nights at home. But as they spent more time together, and their chemistry grew, it stoked a fiery romance between them, one filled with passion and intimacy and love, and an uncontrollable heat.

  Diane swore her cheeks were in a perpetual state of blush.

  She’d never felt so good.

  The transition into her new life in Vermont wasn’t always easy, however. There were aspects of Florida Diane keenly missed, particularly her friendships. Being so far away from Maureen took an emotional toll on Diane. The last time they’d been apart was at the end of their senior year in college, when Maureen gallivanted off to Europe with Kevin, leaving Diane behind, where she did nothing but mope, stuff her face with SnackWell’s devil’s food cakes and watch hours of Thighmaster infomercials with her mother. Diane handled change with more dignity now, catching up with Maureen every Thursday night via FaceTime, glasses of merlot, and Grey’s Anatomy. It wasn’t the same. But they were both living their best lives in beautiful, new places, and they were truly happy for one another, even while enduring nearly two-thousand miles between them.

  Enjoying her glass of punch, Diane turned her eyes back to the dance floor. It was a perfect September evening for Sawyer and Autumn, the joyful togetherness among the crowd was palpable. Earlier, under the massive willow tree in the back yard, the happy couple shared their vows. Witnessing their commitment, in front of all their friends and family—many of whom Diane now called dear friends and family herself—was an absolute privilege. Diane smiled and danced to the music. The pleated hem of her cornflower blue dress twirled playfully as she moved her hips and feet, but her rhythm stopped abruptly, interrupted by her phone sounding in her purse.

  “I told you today is Sawyer and Autumn’s wedding,” Diane said, pivoting away from the tent with a smile. “Are you missing me that much?”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Maureen said. “I’ll be quick.”

  “You’re never quick.”

  “Listen. It’s not my fault you decided to leave me, and now I have no option but to call you during weddings and other inconvenient times.”

  “Technically, you left me first,” Diane teased. “What important things are you calling me about that couldn’t wait?”

  “Your website’s live.”

  Diane gasped. “Is it?”

  “Congratulations, Ms. Newly-Agented-Author,” Maureen squealed.

  “You checked it out?” Diane clasped her punch glass to her chest with a grin. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

  “It’s sexy, babe,” Maureen swooned. “Very professional.”

  Closing her eyes, Diane held her breath for a moment and let it out in a long, shaky sigh, savoring the moment. Everything was coming together. She’d worked diligently this year, addressing every suggestion for revision, and putting every ounce of energy into making her book shine. After several months of hard work, Diane sent the revised copy of her novel back, and after nine weeks of keeping her fingers crossed, Diane was finally picked up by the agency. There was still plenty of waiting and hoping to do until Diane was an officially published author, but landing an agent—who not only believed in Diane’s work, but got along fabulously with her as well—was one, giant step towards publication.

  “How long until I have your book in my hands?” Maureen asked.

  “I haven’t started going on submissions yet,” Diane laughed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  “How can I not?” Maureen asked incredulously. “I’m so proud of you. I can’t wait to shove your book into everyone’s faces.”

  Diane chuckled. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, and aggressive marketing approach,” she said, “I’m not going to worry and overanalyze everything. One day at a time.”

  “Since when?”

  Diane turned back around and searched the crowd. A warm flutter settled in her stomach when she found Michelle sharing a laugh with Sawyer and Autumn after their dance. “Since I have a new means of occupying myself.”

  “Like banging that hot girlfriend of yours twenty-four seven?”

  “You have a vivid imagination.” Diane bit the corner of her mouth to contain her guilty smirk. “I was r
eferring to finishing the draft of my second novel.”

  “Can’t you enjoy finishing one book, before you jump straight into another?”

  “I could,” Diane said. “But when you find something you love that makes you happy, why not spend as much time with it as possible?”

  “Well, you deserve all the things which make you happy,” Maureen said.

  “Thank you.”

  Diane couldn’t help the giddy smile appearing on her face as she caught Michelle’s eye across the crowded reception. God, Michelle looked incredible. Michelle, while she gravitated towards more feminine clothes for their special evenings out together, and looked gorgeous doing so, the masculine attire she was sporting tonight was stirring Diane up in a new, arousing fashion. Matching her fellow groomsmen, Michelle’s white button-down shirt, khakis, and thin, black suspenders were doing wild things to Diane.

  “I do deserve it, don’t I?” Diane asked, letting the flush of heat flow pleasantly through her as she indulged in another long sweep over Michelle’s body.

  “Absolutely.”

  Diane sipped her punch. “Speaking of nice things,” she said, “how’s Miami treating you?”

  “It’s hotter than hell down here,” Maureen said. “But it’s gorgeous, I’m sporting the best tan of my life, and on top of all that, business is booming. And your lemon trees are now happily blooming by our pool, by the way.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t murdered them yet.”

  “You hush,” Maureen snapped. “I can have a green thumb when I want to.”

  “Kevin’s been caring for them, hasn’t he?” Diane questioned with a smirk.

  “Fine. Yes. It helps him decompress after getting home from the office,” Maureen said. “But that’s not the point.”

  “The point is I am happy for both of you,” Diane said. “I’m glad Miami is working out so well. Who would have guessed a year ago this is where we’d be?”

  “Life’s crazy.”

  Two warm and strong arms snuck up from behind Diane and wrapped her tightly. Diane hummed with pleasure as Michelle pressed herself close and planted a warm kiss on Diane’s neck. Michelle moved her body to the music, swaying Diane with her, safely and securely in her arms.

  “You can say that again,” Diane said, placing her hand over Michelle’s.

  “Is that Maureen?” Michelle asked, and Diane replied with a nod. Michelle leaned towards the phone and yelled, “Stop hogging my girlfriend, Maureen.”

  “Busted,” Diane chuckled. “That’s my cue to go.”

  “It is,” Maureen said. “Talk Thursday night?”

  “As always,” Diane said. “Love you.”

  “Love you more,” she said and hung up.

  “It’s a fun, exciting wedding, and here you are on your phone, being a wallflower,” Michelle teased. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “It’s your own fault,” Diane said, placing both hands on top of Michelle’s and swaying to the music. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I’m here now. You don’t have to wait any longer,” Michelle said, breaking from their embrace and tugging her towards the dance floor. “Dance with me.”

  Slipping her phone back in her purse, Diane dropped the item off quickly at their table, as Michelle led her towards the dance floor. The music was soft. Elegant guitar and romantic lyrics, and when they settled among the other couples, they came together, holding each other as their steps fell in rhythm. Diane with Michelle. Sawyer with Autumn. Maya with Darren. And across the floor, Diane met eyes with Shawn as he rocked Travis to the beats, both of them looking smashing in their tailored suits and smiles wide and bright on their faces. Happiness was certainly contagious that evening.

  “What song is this?” Diane asked, turning her eyes to Michelle. “It’s good.”

  “Grace Potter,” Michelle said. “Can’t have a Vermont wedding without a local icon.”

  “I see.”

  “Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look tonight?” Michelle asked, tilting her head as she drank in the sight of Diane in her arms. Michelle’s hand settled at the small of Diane’s back, her fingers curling possessively into her flesh through her dress.

  “You haven’t, no,” Diane answered softly, that familiar heat settling in her cheeks. Their eyes met, and Diane caught an arousing glimmer in Michelle’s brown eyes.

  “Well, you are, Diane,” Michelle said, pressing a delicate, yet passionate kiss on Diane’s lips. “In fact, you’re without a doubt, the most beautiful woman here tonight.”

  “Is that so?” Diane leaned back and flicked a flirtatious brow at her girlfriend. She watched Michelle’s eyes drop to Diane’s mouth again, stirring her insides with a steady heat. “And what are you planning on doing about it?”

  Michelle wet her lips. “I’m not sure.”

  Diane smirked, lowering her hands to Michelle’s waist, and digging her nails into Michelle’s flesh. “Surely you can think of something.”

  “Move in with me.”

  Diane’s smirk slid from her face. “What?”

  “I’m serious,” Michelle said, her eyes steady on Diane’s. “I want to move in together.”

  “You do?”

  “I know you’re only a stone’s throw away, but sometimes it’s too far,” Michelle confessed with a timid tone. She shrugged, glancing nervously at their feet. “I want to fall asleep with you next to me. And wake up the same way.”

  Diane laughed. “You mean you want me there to make breakfast, because you’re tired of burning your frozen waffles every morning when I’m not around.”

  “Same difference.”

  Diane chuckled. “It’s really not.”

  “I’m serious, though,” Michelle said, the confidence returning to her voice as she pulled them closer together. “I love you, and I want to share everything with you. Do you want to?”

  Turning her eyes away, Diane chewed her lip and scrolled over the scene as she stretched the suspense of her answer. She tried not to laugh. Diane loved this dynamic between them—this enduring and flirtatious playfulness—it was so different than any other relationship she’d been in. Before there was petty competitiveness, belittling arguments, and a constant stuck-up snobbery. But not with Michelle. Michelle was fun and down-to-earth and adorably feisty, all endearing qualities which made Diane fall head-over-heels in love with her.

  Of course, Diane would never allow Michelle to forget about their first heated encounters, and how Michelle drove her absolutely insane. Because of it, Diane always looked for ways to get a rise out of her girlfriend, just for the heck of it. And honestly, it was often far too easy.

  “Tell me if I have this correct,” Diane said, keeping face schooled and her feet moving with Michelle’s as the music played on. “You want me to abandon my cozy and cushy lakefront writing retreat, for a drafty, sparsely decorated and rickety farmhouse, with a snarky cat and an even snarkier girlfriend, who wants me to make her breakfast every morning?”

  “Well, I—” Michelle’s eyes darted around the wedding nervously. “When you say it that way, I mean, I guess I could sell—”

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you’re flustered?” Diane laughed and shook her head, leaning in and kissing a dazed and confused Michelle. “I love you.”

  Michelle blinked. “What?”

  “Obviously, I’ll move in.”

  “You sure?” Michelle smiled. “You do? You want to?”

  “I do.” Diane spoke softly, sweeping a fallen hair out of Michelle’s face, and settling her palm on her soft cheek. “The farmhouse, the cat, you. I want it. All of it.”

  Sweeping Diane up in her arms, Michelle kissed her long and sweetly on the lips. Diane melted into the embrace, taking the gentle exploration of Michelle’s tongue with a content sigh. Moving in was a big step, but it felt right. Diane was ready. There were no guarantees in life, and after everything Diane encountered, all the dramatic changes, the ups and downs, the heartbreak
and loss, she knew uncertainty was always lurking around the corner. Change was inevitable. But sometimes, she’d learned, the most beautiful flowers sprout from even the most weeded places. Her divorce took Diane on the most difficult and challenging journey, but along the way, Diane not only found herself, but she found love and happiness, in the most unexpected ways, with the most unexpected person, landing exactly where she belonged.

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Amanda Kayhart lives in Vermont with her wife, two children, and five fur babies. When not writing, she’s busy reading, gaming on the Nintendo Switch, collecting more house plants than she possibly has room for, and enjoying walks along Lake Champlain.

  For updates visit amandakayhart.com, or follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

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