THE FINAL BOOK 3: EPILOGUE (2)
Emily and her dad are back on solid ground, and it seems I'm in his good graces, too.
I think he has finally appreciated what I learned a long time ago-Emily's going to do whatever she wants, and she'll probably crush it, too. I don't need to protect her from the industry.
If anything, we should protect the industry from her, as evidenced by the fact that she's dragged a show from practically conception to previews-with her and me in the leading roles-in less than three years.
"Is everyone here?" she asks me. "What about your friend from London?"
I invited a couple of guys I met on tour and stayed in touch with off and on. Emily's been excited to meet them.
There's a knock at the door. "That must be him," I tell her. "Apparently they don't have clocks in the UK."
I go to open it, expecting to see Harry's tall, broad frame.
But instead of Harry, it's a giant ice sculpture on a dolly with a uniformed delivery man.
"Mr. Adams? Mr. King sends his regards."
The delivery guy wheels the sculpture in, and Emily has him put it in the center of our marble kitchen island.
"What kind of a man sends an ice sculpture?" Rica muses, fascinated.
"Let me call him." I go to our balcony, stepping out onto the long patio and hitting his number.
He answers on the fourth ring. "Yeah."
"It's Timothy. What the hell happened? Are you coming to the party?"
In truth, I don't care so much about the party, but it's odd of him to not do what he says he will.
There's a groan and some cursing, as if he bumped into something. "You haven't heard."
His voice is so dead I'm worried. I google his name. "Jesus. Are you alright?"
I see page after page of articles on my real estate and entertainment mogul friend, and his girlfriend-now ex-girlfriend-going off the deep end after they broke up.
"Swearing off women for life," he vows.
"Hang in there. I'll call you tomorrow."
I click off, trying not to let worry set in. Harry wouldn't have been at the helm of a massive empire without having his shit together. Hell, he's one of the people who's advice helped me get through life on tour.
I owe him one.
But for now, I push it from my mind and head back to the living room.
"Everything okay?" Emily asks when I rejoin her.
"Yeah, nothing to worry about." I brush my lips across her cheek.
Glasses clink, and we all look up from where we're standing to see Eddie holding up his champagne and looking slightly uncomfortable.
"This is a strange day. It would be normal to feel as if I have two children starting their lives." We all look at the baby and Sophia, who's swinging her legs on the couch. "But it feels as if four of my children are."
Emily's hand squeezes mine hard, and I swallow.
"I'm blessed to have the people I have, and I don't know what I've done to deserve it. But I know Timothy and Emily deserve each other."
By the end of the toast, Emily's in tears and Haley's smiling so broadly it looks as if it might crack her face.
I drink my champagne, and for once, I don't even mind the fucking bubbles.
My fiancée goes to hug her dad, and when he pulls back, he looks at me.
"We have a little something special planned," I say.
A buzz starts as I go to our second bedroom-a music room now-to retrieve the guitar Emily bought me, plus my second favorite.
I pass the latter to Eddie, and we do a song together.
Everyone listens and cheers when it's over.
"What are you guys doing for your wedding?" Andie asks after we've finished a drink and cake and Sophia's taken off around the apartment to run the perimeter, trailing a finger along the ornate baseboards.
Emily and I exchange a look.
"We were thinking somewhere warm," she says, shooting me a smile.
Haley shifts forward, beaming. "LA?"
"An island," I say. "Of course, you're all invited."
Cheers go up.
"What's that look on your face?" Emily murmurs much later, once everyone's gone home except Eddie and Haley and the kids in the guest bedroom.
It's just the two of us on the balcony, and I pull her against me.
"I'm happy," I admit, brushing a curl out of her face as I drink in the sight of her warm eyes, the curve of her lips. "So fucking happy, Emily. Everything we've been through came full circle for me today. It reminded me this is what it's like to have family. And I'm not afraid anymore. Whatever happens, we've got it covered."
"Even a new album and a Broadway show and..." she trails off, brows lifting in mock horror, "an island wedding?" she teases.
I drag her mouth to mine, kissing her breathless before I pull back.
"Can't wait."
I hope you enjoyed the conclusion of Timothy Adams and Emily Carlton's trilogy!
see you on next bonus episode 4 of TIMOTHY ADAMS and EMILY CARLTON as a married couples.
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