The Reason I Married Him

“What do you think?” Ethel asks as she approaches me, wearing a green velvet kaftan with her hair done in an updo. “I think it came out beautifully, and have you seen the line outside?”

I take in the living room of the inn. Ethel transformed it into a miniature book signing with two other authors she had met along her journeys. She arranged everything. All I had to do was announce that I’d be signing at Five Six Seven Eight and show up.

Three tables are lined up side by side. She decorated them each in fall colors, which goes with the theme of the signing: Fall In Love With Books. There are orange, gold, and red leaf garland strung around the room, mums and pumpkins gathered together and stacked on hay bales and wagons throughout the inn. Cider donuts and warm apple cider are being served. She has prepared a set list for her to casually sing while people visit and we’re signing books. Honestly, it’s a really nice setup.

“You did a spectacular job,” I say. “I’m really impressed, Ethel.”

“Thank you,” she says. “You’re sitting in the middle. Let me go check on the girls and see if they’re ready.”

She takes off while I’m left in the living room by myself. Aubree and Hattie are showing up in a little bit. I know they’re excited about the signing. Ryland and Hayes are taking Mac up to the redwoods for a fall hike, and the movers we hired are packing up the house as we speak.

We’ve spent the past few weeks helping Ryland figure out what he wants to sell, keep, and store for the big move. He ended up buying the Victorian house after he showed it to Mac, who was more than happy to move. We’ve actually never seen her happier, which has given Ryland an ounce of relief.

In the past few days, Aubree and I, along with Hattie, have spent some time turning Mac’s room into a horse lover’s paradise. We’re talking a horse mural, horse bedding, and horse curtains. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and we know she’ll freak out.

I can’t wait to show it to her.

On days that we haven’t been helping Ryland, Aubree and I have settled into a level of comfort that is so real, like we should’ve been doing this all along. At night, we bring my computer on the bed, she curls into me, and we look at furniture, paint samples, and different ways to decorate the farmhouse and make it our own. We’ve talked about expanding the second floor and making a large main bedroom and adding a guest bedroom on the first floor for when Mac stays the night. It will take some time, but we want to make the house our forever home.

We’ve talked about kids and if she wants them, if I want them, and we both agreed that we’re happy with helping with Mac, but Aubree doesn’t feel—at the moment—that she is equipped to raise her own kid. She’s still fighting demons from her childhood. I told her she’s a wonderful aunt and the way she interacts with Mac is awe-inspiring. She’d be a great mom one day, but I don’t want to push her. It’s not a never-say-never situation. It’s just a not-right-now situation, which I’m fine with.

As for Hattie, well, she’s still waiting on that ring from Hayes. At this point, I think he’s just holding off because he truly wants to surprise her. I think he’s waiting until she gives up all hope, and then he’ll spring it on her. I know the minute he proposes, though, we’ll be in full-on wedding mode.

Laurel and her girlfriend, Rhonda, broke up a few weeks ago but then recently got back together. Rhonda seems to really like Laurel, but Laurel is unhappy and is considering moving closer to Almond Bay and broke up with Rhonda because of that. Well, Rhonda came back and said she’d go anywhere Laurel went, so my best friend might be moving closer.

And for the cabin, Wallace tried to speak with the lawyer and call fraud on me, but the lawyer said as long as the marriage stands, Wallace can’t do anything about it. We’re celebrating Christmas in Canoodle this year with Ryland and Mac. It’s going to be magical.

“Ah, there he is,” a woman says from the side. I turn to find two women, standing side by side, one with thick-rimmed glasses and black hair, the other dressed in what I can only describe as classic Victorian garb with her hair piled on the top of her head.

“Hello,” I say. “Can I help you?”

“You’re W.J. Preston, are you not?”

“I am,” I say to the woman with the glasses.

She stiffly holds out her hand and says, “Allow me to introduce myself and my comrade. My name is Keiko, and this is Victoria. I’m withholding last names for the purpose of security and well-being.”

“Okay,” I say, a chuckle on the tip of my tongue.

“We are avid and voracious readers. Victoria pens some sensational historical novels while some have reviewed them as being the real cat’s meow.”

“Keiko, please,” Victoria says.

“This gentleman needs to understand he’s in the presence of grandeur, a noblewoman of the written word.”

“Well, I’m honored,” I say, loving every second of this.

“You see, we accumulated friendship through the interwebs. I reside in the Windy City, and Victoria is a resident of Port Snow, Maine. Through the written word, we found commonality and together have initiated the first installment of fan fiction based on your novel, Don’t Look In The Window.”

“Oh that’s⁠—”

“The ending was so ghastly abhorrent, we took it upon ourselves to make the wrong you did into a right.”

Ehhh . . .

“It has now been written the way that the writing gods intended it,” Victoria says, patting me on the shoulder.

“That’s, uh, that’s great,” I say, trying not to be insulted. Sure, the ending of that book wasn’t widely received by everyone, but is rewriting it in fan fiction necessary?

“We shall email you the eighty-five pages of corrections we’ve made as well as the alternate ending. We highly suggest you take a look at it and make adjustments.”

“Keiko, Victoria, what are you doing? I told you not to talk to him.” Rylee Ryan, famous romance author, walks up to us.

Keiko pushes her glasses up on her nose. “It was imperative he knew about the embarrassing attempt at a plot twist.”

Rylee points behind her toward her table and says, “Go over there and keep your mouths closed, or else I’m never taking you to one of these again.”

Heads turned down, Keiko and Victoria move toward the window.

I wave to them and say, “It was nice meeting you.”

“Sorry about that,” Rylee says. “I hope they didn’t hurt your feelings.”

I wave dismissively at her. “Nothing I haven’t heard or read online before.” I hold my hand out to her. “I’m Wyatt, you must be Rylee.”

“That’s me. How do you know Ethel?”

“Moved here. I married Aubree Rowley, who is part owner of The Almond Store.”

“Oh my gosh, I love that store. It’s like the California version of The Lobster Landing.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“It’s a shop in my town of Port Snow. Sells the best fudge.”

“Here she is,” Ethel says, guiding a very pregnant woman into the living room. “Wyatt, Rylee, this is Rosie Bloom, author of The Virgin Romance Novelist. Her movie is set to shoot next summer. I met her while I was in New York for an award. Lovely woman, this is her second child. Her husband, Henry, is back home with their first.”

“Rosie,” I say as I hold my hand out to her. “It’s nice to meet you. When are you due?”

“A month and a half,” she says. “But I wish today.”

We chuckle as Rylee introduces herself. “I have triplets back home with my husband, but we adopted. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must be.”

“Triplets?” she asks. “I might take this raging sciatica over triplets.”

“I’d be careful what you wish for,” Rylee says.

“Let’s get you seated,” Ethel says, leading Rosie over to her table.

“Well, have a good signing,” Rylee says before taking off as well.

“You too,” I reply just as I catch Aubree walking through the door of the inn with Hattie next to her. Immediately, I feel at home as she walks up to me. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into my chest. “There’s my girl,” I say right before placing a kiss on her lips. I keep it short and sweet, but with a touch of tongue just so she knows what to expect later.

“Is everything all set?” She glances around.

“Yup,” I say. “I actually met two readers already. They told me how they changed the ending of my book to suit a more popular plot twist better. Made me feel . . . magical.”

She chuckles and pats me on the chest. “Good, you need someone to knock you down a peg or two.”

“Babe, you do that all on your own.”

“Doesn’t hurt to have others participate as well.” She stands on her toes and kisses me one last time, and I feel so goddamn lucky that this woman claims me as hers. That I found someone who understands me, appreciates me, leans on me. She’s everything I could have asked for, and I’ve spent every day since we got back together showing her just how much I appreciate her.

I still look back on the day I was out on Laurel’s deck, eating a cookie while she devised the plan for me to come to Almond Bay. At the time, I thought it was insane, but I was just desperate enough to follow through. And I’m so glad that I did because I couldn’t imagine a day in my life without Aubree by my side.

A marriage of convenience.

Who knew such a book trope would become a reality?

And who knew that reality would turn into a dream.

I sure as hell didn’t, but I’m so grateful she married me for land because now I get her hand for life.