“Help me get back into shape.”
Mia looked over me and stated, “You’re in great shape, Har.”
I leaned my hip on the counter and explained, “Well, there’s this job I’m applying for that requires you to be in peak physical condition.”
Quinn shot me a look of confusion. “What job?”
I fought my grin. “I want to be a cop.”
Mia gasped loudly, looking from Quinn to me and clapping. “Oh, yay!”
“No shit,” Quinn beamed. “You and me, cops?” He shook his head, smiling hard. “Shit, we’re gonna be just like Turner and Hooch.”
“Hooch was a dog, dipshit.” I chuckled as I rolled my eyes.
Quinn nodded. “I know.” He smirked.
“You’re Hooch.”
Chapter Forty-Seven – Epilogue
Mia
A smiling Quinn took my hand and gently pulled me to him. He cradled me, rocking me from side-to-side. I had never felt this brand of happiness before in my life. I was immersed in it, drowning happily, never wanting to come up for air. We slow danced as Ed Sheeran sang thinking out loud.
It was our wedding day, and what was better was that it was Quinn’s birthday. I jokingly named the date and told him if we did it, he’d never forget an anniversary. He laughed as I said this, and then became mildly panicked, begging me to set the date.
We had a small church ceremony, and Father Brady, the same priest who had baptized both my brother and me, named us husband and wife. The only people we invited to join us were Mom, Harry, Terry and Bob, Ella and Mike, and Addison and Nick. We also extended an invitation to Quinn’s mother once I managed to track her down, but she kindly declined, claiming she had no right to attend.
I’d met with the woman who gave birth to my husband and had to admit—I was shocked. For someone as put together as Quinn, I didn’t picture a mature woman living in a trailer, smoking at least two packs a day and drinking whiskey at nine am, as his mother was.
Mama Quinn was a decent lady, but she was rough around the edges.
I’d asked Quinn if he’d like to see her, and he told me quite honestly that he wasn’t ready for that, but would never say never. I sent care packages to her every month, and she repaid me in affection. I quite liked our relationship.
My eyes roamed my husband and I took in his new tux. I smiled at the memory of our argument just the week before.
I pulled a garment bag out of Quinn’s closet. “What’s wrong with this tux? It’s a Ralph Lauren.”
Quinn scowled then mumbled, “It’s my hooker tux. I’m not wearing that tux.”
I rolled my eyes. “So? It probably cost a thousand dollars and looks amazing. Wear this.”
He threw himself back on the bed with a groan. “Mia, I’m not wearing the hooker tux on our wedding day.” I stared at him. After a moment, he raised his head and mock-whispered, “And, by the way, the suit was four grand.” He eyed me good. “What kind of nasty street-walker do you take me for?”
I huffed and looked down at the black suit peeking through the open zipper of the garment bag. “It looks good to me, honey.”
Our disagreement went on for another half-hour until Quinn got up, snatched the garment bag out of my hands, opened the window to his apartment, and threw it out, slamming the window closed again, all the while eyeing me in a way that said, ‘Say something…I dare you.’
My brows rose and I shrugged. “Okay. No hooker tux.” I walked into his laundry to place some of his tees into the washer. “We’ll go suit shopping tomorrow.”
He called out, “Love you,” but it came out muffled, and I just knew he’d placed a pillow over his face.
I chuckled to myself.
Quinn’s new tux was a three-piece and fitted him like a second skin. He wore it like he was born to, and secretly, I was glad he hadn’t worn the hooker tux.
We swayed from side to side, smiling into each other. He pressed a long kiss to my temple and uttered, “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
I replied, “Only about a hundred times.” I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek to his. “Have I told you how handsome you look today?”
He sighed. “Not enough. Tell me again.” I smacked his stomach and he groaned before claiming, “Hey, I’m fragile. Tell me I’m pretty, dammit!”
I pulled back enough to look into those bright hazel eyes I loved with my heart and very soul.
My stomach flipped as it hit me.
I was now Mia Quinn.
Now, I wasn’t sure that I’d bloomed into the beautiful butterfly Quinn had drunkenly predicted all those years ago, but my life had flourished in a way I’d never thought it could.
I owed it all to Matt Quinn, and we were going to live happily ever after.
THE END