Emma could see Simon really was expecting her to turn and walk out the door. Her heart squeezed hard because she couldn’t blame him. It’d happened to him before. “Okay,” she said.

He was very, very still. “Okay?”

“Okay, I’m in. Dale’s your family, and you’re mine. Family looks after family.”

He caught her hand and a second later she was plastered against his warm, hard body. His kiss burned with a gentle intensity, sending a trickle of molten lava into her belly and straight down. When he pulled back, he brushed a kiss to her temple. “I need you to be sure.”

“I am. I want you in my life, Simon. At my back, at my side, stand wherever you want, just as long as you’re mine.”

Simon smiled. “That’s already done. I’m yours.”

“Seems fair, since I’m yours too.” Her eyes went all misty again. “Simon?”

“Anything, Emma. Name it.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Wait, I get to be maid of honor, right?” Alison yelled through the door. “I’ve always wanted one of those stupid overpriced bridesmaids’ dresses!”

Ignoring his cousin, Simon hauled Emma in close. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Tomorrow, next week, next year. Whenever you want.”

They were kissing when Alison spoke again. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Go away,” Simon said.

“How long do you need?”

Simon smiled down into Emma’s face. “The rest of my life . . .”

Emma’s heart caught but she nodded. “That sounds like just the right amount of time . . .”

Epilogue

One year later

Emma’s heart was pounding through her ears. She could feel sweat dripping between her breasts. Her lungs, taxed beyond endurance, refused to draw in another breath. So she stopped short, bent over, and put her hands on her thighs to gasp for air.

This was silly. She had only a quarter of a mile left. In fact, she could see the finish line on the beach ahead, flags blowing in the breeze, and a crowd gathered to cheer on the winner.

Except the winner had crossed the finish line a long time ago.

In fact, she was the very last one left in the 5K.

Trying not to care about that, she sucked in another breath. She’d insisted on doing this race alone, refusing to let anyone do it with her. Simon had understood, but she knew he’d been bummed. Not Alison. She’d pumped her fist with relieved victory.

But now the big day had finally arrived and she’d gotten through two-thirds of the race. The muscles in her legs were quaking like Jell-O, and suddenly she wasn’t sure she could do this. But then a set of running shoes appeared on either side of hers, one male, one female.

“Hey, babe. Whatcha doing?”

Emma turned her head and, still bent over, looked up at Simon. “Oh, you know, just hanging out.”

He grinned. “Looking good.”

“Which is really annoying, bee-tee-dub.” This from Alison, on her other side. “I’ve taken, what, maybe fifty steps, and my hair’s already flat to my head and my mascara’s running. The least you could do is look like you were in a coma two years ago.”

Emma laughed wryly and straightened. “Why would you wear makeup to a 5K?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Emma started walking. Maybe she couldn’t run the rest of the way, but now that she wasn’t alone, she’d crawl over the finish line if she had to.

Simon took her hand in his, gently squeezed, and when she looked up at him, his smile dazzled. “Proud of you, Em.”

Yeah. She was kind of proud of herself too.

“Damn, this is hard work,” Alison said. “Hey, Si, give me a piggyback ride like you used to do when we were kids.”

“Maybe if you still weighed sixty-five pounds.”

“Rude.” Alison tossed her hair. “And anyway, technically, I’m your boss now, so you should have to do what I say.”

A year ago, the same week Emma and Simon had gotten engaged, he’d promoted Alison to CEO of Armstrong Properties. Thrilled, she’d taken the job, but still kept up with Paw Pals, which thankfully was doing better than expected. Emma was so proud of its success.

“Actually,” Simon said, “since I’m no longer working at Armstrong, you’re not my boss at all.”

“Oh yeah,” Alison said. “That sucks. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to be the boss of you for a change? But no, you had to be your own boss by buying half of Kelly’s PT clinic when she got overwhelmed and went looking for a partner.”

“And now he’s getting to do what he loves,” Emma said, not nearly as breathless now. She smiled at Simon, who leaned in and brushed a kiss to her damp temple.

“I’m most definitely doing what I love, and who I love,” he said, which made Emma laugh.

“Disgusting,” Alison said and rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was clearly pleased for them. It didn’t hurt that she was wearing a big, fat diamond ring on that finger from Ryan. No date had been set yet. According to Alison, the date might never be set. They were happy and content to be engaged. All Alison had ever wanted was to feel loved, and there was no doubt Ryan made her feel very loved.

Emma looked down at her own ring.

“How you doing, Mrs. Armstrong?” Simon asked her.

“She’s doing great,” Alison said. “Just look at her. It’s been a year and she’s still wearing the newlywed glow.”

“It’s sweat.” But Emma smiled. It’d been a year exactly. In fact, today was her and Simon’s anniversary. There were certainly more romantic things to do than this, but after her hopefully final surgery six months ago, this felt right. She’d gotten the notion that by trying this race on her own, it would prove something to herself, like her life hadn’t really changed at all, and she could still do whatever she wanted.

And she supposed that was still true. She could do whatever she wanted. Just not in the way she’d expected. It wasn’t about winning, she’d realized. It was about finishing.

That was all she had to do. Finish.

The sound of cheers had her lifting up her head. While lost in reflection, she’d crossed the finish line. She turned around and found Simon and Alison going around the flags, not through.