A wide grin stretches over my face with the question, sweeping me into a memory of just this morning, when Grady woke me with coffee and said, “Here or outside?” just as he’s done every morning since I moved in. I’ll never know why I dragged my feet over moving in with Grady. Fear, I guess. Or maybe I was just too set in my lonely ways. Whatever the case, I have settled into our place in no time. Like this morning, when, to answer his question, I said, “Here and outside?” just as I had every morning. He took his cue, putting the coffee aside and climbing into bed with me for our other wake-up tradition. Then, our shower. Then, fresh coffee on the porch or at the dock. Already, we have this beautiful routine that’s easy and entirely us. He’s where I belong, a truth I’m assured of every time I see him.

Even when he’s in jealous, protective, grouchy mode.

“I couldn’t be happier,” I say, almost dreamily.

Ashe meets Grady at the foot of the deck and extends his hand. The men shake, though Grady looks suspicious. Then, Ashe turns to me with a coy smile. “Glad for you, Marnie. Hope I never need a business consultant, but if I do, you’ll be the only one I call.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I chuckle.

He leaves then, brushing by Grady carelessly as he approaches me. I greet him with a big smile and a soft embrace. “Everything’s fine. Relax, Grady.”

“What the fuck did that mean? Why would he call you?”

“We did it, Grady. We rammed our pirate ship right into them, and now, they’re sinking,” I say, beaming. “Sunny’s is sinking. Cora’s already gone down with the ship.”

I rattle off my explanation, wide-eyed and animated with excitement. Justification, validation, true comeuppance—these are precious rarities in real life, and I can’t help but do another victory dance as I explain it all to Grady. I hit him with terms like twenty percent and Store Designer and Concept Creator, which I will, of course, be adding to my new business cards.

“He offered me the store manager job. Six-figures! And I turned him down. Do you know how badass I feel right now?”

He laughs. “As you should. As you deserve.”

“So, see?” I give him a playful slap on his arm. “You left that poor Chihuahua on the exam table for nothing.”

He looks sheepish. “It was a beagle, actually.”

“Did you really think I couldn’t handle Ashe myself?” I turn to my three dads, still watching from the smoking porch, and repeat the question to them.

Christie shrugs. Roy scratches his head. Wade leans his shovel against the side of the shed, defeated.

“Go back to work, you numpties!” I order, shooing them along.