It's July 15th, 2022, and Sarah Walker has finally scored her dream job—working with dolphins at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute. Socially awkward and academically driven, Sarah's never found love—but when she meets a tech genius whose inventions have the chance to make her research a reality, she finds herself falling for him. Together, their work could change the world … that is, unless someone else gets hold of it first.
Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck…
Chapter 20: More Than One Sun
Six months later…
Chuck gazed out the huge plate-glass window of Old Fisherman's Grotto, watching a seagull coast on the sun-kissed waves—then glanced back into the restaurant, at his friends and the woman he loved. It was a week before Christmas, and the restaurant was hung with garlands, adding to the festive mood. Even better, everyone had come to Monterey for the holidays, including Ellie, Devon, and Sarah's mother, Emma. Sarah and Ellie had become close friends, chatting every day, and his sister and her husband spent most of their time off in Monterey, renting the same little cottage every time. As a surprise Christmas gift, Chuck had purchased the cottage for them. He couldn't wait to surprise them with the deed, nestled in a silver, beribboned box under the tree that was currently dominating his and Sarah's living room. It was possible that, since this was their first Christmas together, they'd gone a little overboard. With the gargantuan tree installed in the corner, there was barely room for the couch and the chair—but Sarah smiled every time she looked at the lopsided, giant fir, and that was all that mattered to Chuck.
Chuck and Sarah sat at the head of the three tables they'd had to push together to make room for their group, who'd all gotten together for a pre-holiday lunch, before the madness set in. Chuck had invited them, a gesture that Sarah had told him she thought was sweet. He'd nodded, doing his best to maintain a poker face—not his greatest talent. Little did she know that he had an ulterior motive—and the last time he'd kept something from Sarah, even though he'd had the best of intentions, things had veered disastrously off the skids. Here was hoping this turned out differently.
In the other chairs, chatting animatedly, were Ellie, Devon, Emma, Milton and his wife Melinda, Gertrude, Diane, the ever-taciturn Casey, and Lou and Laszlo—who Sarah'd sworn she'd caught holding hands the other day.
Laz had just moved here from Cupertino, a decision that Chuck suspected had as much to do with his feelings for the petite trainer as it did with the job opportunity Chuck had offered him, luring him away from Apple. Lou hadn't been willing to entertain the idea of a long-distance relationship, and so Laz had done what, for him, was unimaginable—he'd upended his life, based on no more than the possibility that things would work out between them. However it had happened, the end result was that all the people Chuck cared about were together, and he'd never felt happier—or more excited about his future.
A lot had changed since he and Sarah had come to Fisherman's Grotto for their first official date. Back then, he'd been so unsure of himself—so worried that maybe Sarah wanted to be with Bryce, after all. Diane Beckman had been under Bryce's spell; their technology had still been in the experimental stage; and he'd put the wheels for Sedna in motion but had yet to tell Sarah the truth. Now here they sat, just a few feet away from the booth where it had all begun—but so much had changed.
The press conference had catapulted their work to international notoriety. Along with the recognition had come a flood of investors who were willing to elevate Sarah's research beyond her wildest dreams—and the need to hire more staff. Plans were underway to create a netted-off sanctuary in the natural environment of the Bay to house stranded or injured dolphins who could be rehabilitated and released, giving Sarah and her team the opportunity to study the differences in communication patterns between captive and wild dolphins. A second group of investors had underwritten the cost of a boat, captain and crew, and research equipment so that Sarah's team could study wild dolphins in their natural habitat. Though the Aquarium's primary mission was still to display and educate, their focus had shifted to include a greater emphasis on rescuing, rehabilitating, and releasing stranded marine mammals.
The dolphins had always been a tremendous draw for the Aquarium, but in the past six months, the attention they received had rocketed into the stratosphere. Tickets to see their 'shows,' which now included a dolphin-human communication segment, sold out weeks in advance—and Chuck's idea to create prints of the dolphins' Cypher-created vocalizations had turned out to be a fundraising goldmine, generating sales from all over the globe.
As a fundraising and educational tool, the Aquarium had even launched Dinner with the Dolphins, giving folks the opportunity to chat with Echo, Eden, and Finn in a personalized, small-group setting. The idea had been inspired by the dream that both Chuck and Sarah had had—which they'd realized they'd shared. To this day, neither of them understood how such a thing was possible . . . but they didn't understand how Eden had been able to communicate with both of them on such a profound level, either. After much discussion, they'd ultimately decided that no rational explanation for either phenomenon existed, and agreed just to accept it as one more strange event in the long line of coincidences and miracles that had brought them together.
While all of this was incredible, what made Chuck the happiest was seeing how Sarah's standing in the scientific community had evolved since the days when so many of her colleagues dismissed her research, calling her a hack—and worse. Now, she was renowned—and at the top of her field.
The first few months after the press conference had been a whirlwind, with the two of them fielding questions from multidisciplinary scholars the world over—from biologists who were curious about the applicability of their research with land mammals such as elephants and great apes, to astronomers who had questions about how this type of technology might foster communication with potential alien life forms. Sarah had been invited to do a Ted Talk and to speak at universities across the country. Along with Chuck and Laszlo, she'd been interviewed for every major paper, featured on the cover of national magazines like Time, and, as the year drew toward its close, at the top of multiple lists featuring America's Most Influential Women. The attention was a little overwhelming—but, as Sarah had confided to Chuck, she'd rather be in high demand, taken seriously, and respected than ignored and mocked any day.
No matter how many other obligations competed for her attention, Sarah always managed to make time for what mattered to her most—spending time with Chuck, Echo, Eden, and Finn. She worked with the dolphins every day, unless she was on the road—and, along with her team, had become increasingly skilled at deciphering their hopes and desires. Neither Echo nor Finn were candidates for release, due to the injuries they'd sustained when they stranded—and Eden had been born in captivity. Echo and Finn were the only pod she knew, and Sarah had no intention of separating the little dolphin from her parents. When the sanctuary was complete, it would hold a section exclusively for these three, fulfilling the dolphins' dreams of living in a world beyond their tank.
While Sarah's professional life had experienced the most dramatic shift, Chuck's had changed too. He had a patent pending on the Cypher, which was now in high demand, and he'd inked an expanded royalties deal with Apple on the newly-licensed Intersect, which was revolutionizing the robotics industry. On top of that, he had more consulting jobs than he could handle, mostly involving training companies on how to use his new technology. He'd also patented and was monetizing a stripped-down version of his AI that he'd termed 'Morgan Basic.' Between all of these endeavors, he'd more than tripled his wealth—and the demands on his time.
There was no way Chuck could handle all of this on his own, which was why he'd lured Laszlo away from Apple to help, after insisting that Laz receive half the royalties generated from his Intersect licensing deal. Laz had fought the latter, saying he hadn't helped Chuck out for profit, but Chuck had insisted—and his closest friend was now, as he'd termed it, 'sitting pretty.'
As a favor to Sarah, Chuck had dropped his lawsuit against Bryce. Apple and Zondra Rizzo were not so forgiving; they'd destroyed him in court, forcing him to claim Chapter 11 and shutter DolphinSpeak. To Chuck's chagrin, the litigation process had revealed that John Reid had indeed reverse-engineered the photos that Bryce had taken in an attempt to steal Chuck's technology—but as Chuck had suspected, he hadn't done it with malice and forethought. Bryce had led Reid to believe that these designs were merely intended for theoretical work toward promising tech that DolphinSpeak might be able to expand upon. When Reid had discovered the truth, he'd been horrified, calling Chuck to explain and plead for forgiveness. "One engineer to another," he'd said, "I hope you understand that I'd never do such a thing. I'm disgusted that I played a role in this—and I'm going to make it right." He'd made good on his promise, testifying against Bryce and sealing the deal for the prosecution.
To put the icing on the proverbial cake, the judge had reprimanded Shaw for issuing the bogus cease-and-desist order—and the lawyer's firm had subsequently fired him. The metric ton of bad publicity he'd brought to their firm hadn't helped, either.
Reid had done the right thing, giving them the final piece of information they needed to take Bryce down—but as a result, he was jobless, a situation that Chuck didn't intend to let stand for long. He hired the engineer as soon as the case was settled, doubling his salary and setting him to work on R&D and consulting alongside Laz—which gave Chuck enough free time to devote his energy to expanding the computing power and processing speed he needed for his next upgrade to Morgan. Given his current position at the forefront of AI development, it was in his best interest to stay on the cutting edge . . . plus, the idea of taking Morgan's abilities to the next level was beyond exciting. The AI had already accomplished so much; who knew what it could do if Chuck was able to expand its skillset?
Well, he didn't have to figure all of that out right now. He'd gotten everyone together for a reason today, and right now he intended to make good on it.
He stood, clinking his fork against his glass to get everyone's attention. They quieted down, turning to face him. All of them—except Ellie, who knew exactly what he had in mind—looked surprised; it wasn't usually Chuck's style to draw all eyes his way. But unlike six months ago, when the idea of speaking in front of a group of people about anything other than technology would've terrified him, right now he felt confident—at ease. This was the easy part—it was what would come in a few minutes that made his stomach churn.
He looked at each of them, one by one—then said what was on his mind. "I want to thank all of you for coming today. A few months ago, I couldn't have imagined that this moment was possible—and I'm so grateful to all of you for making it happen." He lifted his glass toward his sister. "Ellie, you raised me after our parents died, and I'll always be grateful for it. I'm standing here because of you. And Devon—I never thought anyone would be good enough for my big sister, but you come pretty damn close."
"Hear, hear," Laz said, thumping Devon hard enough on the back that Ellie's husband almost spat out his beer.
Chuck turned toward his friend. "As for you, Laz, for years—other than Manoosh and Morgan—you were my only friend in the world. You always had my back, no matter what. When I called you about this project, you didn't ask any questions—you just came running. And you've stood by my side ever since."
Chuck couldn't be sure, but he thought Laz might be blushing. "Thanks, man," he said, raising his own glass in Chuck's direction. "I'm still a little pissed that you wouldn't let me toss Bryce-Fuckface-Larkin into the tank, but, y'know, you more than made up for it with the royalties thing, so I guess we're even."
Rolling his eyes, Chuck turned his gaze on Lou, Gertrude, and Casey. "The three of you have been amazing. Casey, I know you didn't really buy into our work at first, but you gave us the benefit of the doubt anyhow—and once you realized Sarah's research was the real deal, you came around. You've been a huge advocate for this project, and I want you to know how much both of us appreciate it. And Lou and Gertrude—thanks for showing up every day and working late hours to help make Sarah's dreams come true. We couldn't have done it without you. You're more than just friends—I think of you as family, and I know Sarah does too."
"Thank you, Chuck." A tear trickled down Lou's cheek, and she reached for her napkin—but before she could reach it, Laszlo handed her a clean one. She blotted her cheeks, giving him a small smile. Watching the two of them, Chuck felt a sense of hope that Laz might actually get his wish.
"Milton," he said next, smiling at the bearded security guard. "I consider you the first friend I made in Monterey—other than Sarah, of course. You've always been in my corner . . . and I know Sarah thinks of you as a second father. You're kind, thoughtful—and not afraid to speak the truth when someone needs to hear it. We might not be sitting here right now if it wasn't for you—and I'll never forget that. Thank you for everything you've done for us."
Milton smiled at him, pressing a kiss to the top of his wife's head. "You're more than welcome, Chuck. I'm glad to see the two of you so happy—just like me and my Melinda. That's all the thanks I need."
Chuck smiled back. Then, gathering his courage, he turned to Sarah's mother. "Emma, the day I met you, I understood where Sarah got her beautiful mind and her gorgeous, amazing heart—the two things I love most about her. Thank you for being here today and for bringing the woman I love into the world—for always believing in her even when she didn't believe in herself. I will owe you forever for that."
Lou's tears seemed to be catching; Emma sniffed, running a finger beneath her eyes. "Thank you for making my little girl happy, Chuck. That's all I ever wanted for her—and I'm grateful she finally found you."
"Thank you," Chuck said, feeling his heart beating triple-time. "That means more than I can say."
Squaring his shoulders—it was now or never—he turned toward his girlfriend, who was looking up at him with big, tear-filled eyes. "That was beautiful, Chuck," she said, giving him the brilliant smile that never failed to make him fall in love with her all over again.
It was just like Sarah to think that his toast was meant for everyone but her. "I'm not finished," he said, forcing a grin.
Sarah's eyebrows narrowed. "Are you okay, Chuck? You look a little . . . freaked out."
"I'll be fine." At least, he hoped he would; right now he felt as if he might pass out. That would definitely put a damper on the moment.
He cleared his throat. "Sarah, you know I love you. I've never been happier than I've been since I met you."
She peered up at him, the expression in her blue eyes quizzical. "I love you too, Chuck."
"Well, that's good, because if you didn't, what I'm about to do might go over really badly." Doing his best to make it look graceful rather than as if his legs had given way, he dropped to one knee in front of her. Her mouth fell open in surprise, and she looked as if she wanted to say something, but he willed himself to keep talking. If he stopped, he might never start again. "You are the most incredible woman I've ever met. You challenge me and surprise me and amaze me every day. I'm the best possible version of myself when I'm with you, a version of myself that I never dreamed I could be. You make me feel brave, Sarah. You make me happy. You make me believe in things that I gave up on long ago."
His hands shaking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. In it was the ring with which his father had proposed to his mother. His mother had always told Chuck it would be his one day, and Ellie had kept it safe for him all these years, along with the other family heirlooms. When he'd decided to propose to Sarah, he'd known no other ring would do. He didn't know a thing about diamonds, but he'd had it appraised and cleaned, and the jeweler had explained it was a fourteen-carat, white-gold, channel-set ring. "Vintage," she'd told him. "All the rage these days."
Chuck didn't care about trends; he never had. All he cared about was the woman in front of him—and her response to the question he was about to ask.
He looked up at his girlfriend, whose hands were covering her mouth. "Sarah, I know this isn't the most expensive ring in the world, or the fanciest. But it's all that I have left of my parents, and it means a lot to me. Giving this ring to you—it's almost as if my mom and dad are here with us today. And if they could be, I know they would love you as much as I do."
Behind him, he heard his sister stifle a sob. He felt on the verge of tears himself, but pressed on nonetheless. "I wanted all of our friends here to witness this, because I want all of them to know how important you are to me. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I swear I will love you and cherish you forever. And it would be my dream come true if you would do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife. Sarah Walker—will you marry me?"
The tears in Sarah's eyes overflowed, cascading down her cheeks. Chuck held his breath as she dropped her hands. Surely these were happy tears? If not, he was about to be humiliated in front of everyone whose opinion mattered to him. Not that this would be the first time, but honestly, the stakes had never been higher, and if she didn't say something soon—
"Sarah?" he said, his voice cracking. "You haven't said a word. You're just sitting there, crying. I'm a patient guy and all, but this—right now—you're kind of killing me."
She sucked in a deep, hiccupping breath—during which he died a thousand deaths—and then she flung her arms around him. "Yes!" she said, half-laughing and half-sobbing at the same time. "Of course, yes. That goes without saying. Yes, yes, yes!"
Laz let out a wolf whistle and Ellie squealed with glee as Sarah pulled back and held out her left hand. Weak with relief, he fumbled the ring out of the box, poised to slide it onto her finger.
Then, with truly diabolical timing, a shrill voice he'd hoped never to hear again echoed through Fisherman's Grotto. "Chuck? Oh my God! Is that you?"
OoOoOoOoO
Tears blurred Sarah's eyes as she glanced up, searching for the source of the sound. She thought she knew all of Chuck's friends in Monterey—but the woman her eyes landed on was a total stranger. She was tall, with dark hair and glasses—and a semi-maniacal smile that seemed to grow in size with every second she gazed at Chuck.
Confused, Sarah looked back at her fiancé. Or maybe he was her almost-fiancé? Did it count if you'd said yes, but he hadn't put the ring on your finger yet?
Because he hadn't. He'd frozen in place, ring in hand, staring over Sarah's shoulder at the woman—who, Sarah realized when she followed the path of his gaze, was now approaching them with all the subtlety of a freight train thundering into the station.
"Chuck," Sarah hissed, "who is that?"
She'd barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Ellie pushed her chair back with a shriek of wood-on-wood that probably left grooves in the floor. Oh, Sarah thought absurdly, Fisherman's Grotto isn't going to like that at all. But what Fisherman's Grotto liked or didn't like was immaterial to Ellie, who was striding toward the woman with murder in her eye, despite Devon's attempts to restrain her.
"You!" Ellie shrieked, her voice reaching a pitch so high, soon only dogs would be able to hear it. "How dare you show your face anywhere near my brother?"
"Babe—" Devon said, catching at her hand, but Ellie shook him off.
"You've got some nerve," she said, closing the space between her and the strange woman. "If you know what's good for you, you'll turn your faithless, over-aerobicized ass around and march it right out of here before I plant my high heel in it."
Your faithless, over-aerobicized ass . . . Oh, no. Surely not. Was it possible this was—
"Jill," Chuck croaked, rising to his feet, the ring clutched in his hand. "What are you doing here?"
Chuck's ex, Jill Roberts—because who else could it be?—dodged around Ellie and made her way to their table, Chuck's sister hot on her heels. "I heard about the work you were doing with the Intersect and the Cypher—and the dolphins—and I just had to see it for myself," she said, coming to a stop in front of Chuck and Sarah, who stared at her, stunned. "You were always so brilliant, Chuck. I knew you were going to make something great out of yourself one day."
Sarah bristled. Clearly, Jill thought she was being complimentary—but to Sarah's ears, it came across as horribly patronizing. "Make something great out of himself?" she said, getting to her feet. She was pleased to see that, in heels, she towered over Jill. "As if he wasn't great before? Even when you're trying to be nice to him, you're still a total bitch."
Jill paled—and then blinked, as if trying to orient herself. "I'm sorry," she said, a note of condescension tinting her voice. "I don't believe we've met."
Sarah had a moment to think that Jill and Bryce would be a fabulous fit for each other—but this wasn't the time to play Matchmake the Evildoer. "My mistake," she said sweetly. "I'm so familiar with your appalling behavior, I feel as if I've known you for years and years."
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Ellie's face. Apparently willing to cede the torch to Sarah, she was standing absolutely still, amusement warring with contempt on her face. It was, Sarah reflected, quite an expression.
"Oh," Jill said, equally sweetly, turning to Chuck. "So you're still thinking about me, too?"
Chuck wasn't normally a vengeful person, but Jill's condescending attitude—not to mention her presumption that he would ever date her again and the fact that she'd interrupted his proposal to Sarah—must have pushed him over the edge. "Let me be clear," he said, enunciating each syllable. "I think of you the way someone would think of a house fire they survived—with deep regret that it took place and gratitude that they managed to escape intact."
Jill's mouth dropped open, but she recovered quickly enough. "You don't mean that, Chuck. I understand that you're still angry with me, but if I could just talk to you alone . . . "
The expression on Chuck's face suggested that he would rather immerse himself in a vat of battery acid. When he spoke, though, his voice was calm. "I'm not angry. What happened between us was a long time ago. But anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of my friends and my family," he said, gesturing at the table. "Honestly, I can't imagine how you found me—let alone why you're here."
"I talked to that helpful little redhead at the Aquarium's ticket desk. She said you'd all gone out to lunch, somewhere in walking distance—and there's a limited number of restaurants nearby." She actually batted her lashes at him; Sarah would've laughed if she hadn't been so infuriated. The woman had taken advantage of Chelsea's good nature—and then hunted Chuck down like . . . well, like a stalker ex. Maybe she ought to text Bryce on Jill's behalf and see if he was still single. The two of them deserved each other.
"If I could just have a few moments of your time, privately . . ." Jill said, letting her voice trail off suggestively.
Again, Chuck shook his head, and Jill sighed, resigned. "Fine, then. If this is the only way we can have this conversation, then so be it." She dropped her head as if summoning her courage—then looked up, straight into Chuck's eyes, as if Sarah wasn't standing right next to him. "I came here to tell you this: I know things went wrong between us, but like you said, that was a long time ago. We're different people now. We can move forward, together. Things will be better than they ever were—I promise—if you just give me a chance."
Ellie let out an indignant squeak—but before she could intervene on his behalf, Chuck cleared his throat. "I," he said, speaking slowly, as if to make sure there could be no misunderstanding, "am going to choose to believe that you're kidding. Because the alternative would be realizing that, after deciding that my poor financial prospects weren't worth your time and dumping me, you suddenly discovered that I'm making bank—which, by the way, isn't a new development, as you'd know if you'd bothered to reach out to me at any point in the past five years—and made up your mind that I'm worth your while, after all."
Behind Chuck, Sarah heard Laszlo mutter, "Burn . . ." and heard Devon snicker in return. But Chuck wasn't finished. He graced Jill with a surpassingly sweet smile. She gaped back at him, speechless.
"You were curious about the identity of my lovely dining companion—who, though it wasn't necessary, was quick to jump to my defense. Thank you, by the way," he said to Sarah, as an aside.
Sarah lifted one shoulder and let it fall. She'd been worried that seeing Jill like this was going to make Chuck want to defenestrate himself straight through one of the plate glass windows and into the Bay—but by contrast, he was handling himself just fine. "Think nothing of it," she told him.
"This," Chuck told Jill, "is my fiancée. Or she would be, if you hadn't so rudely interrupted us. So, if you don't mind"—he sank dramatically to one knee again—"I'd like to finish what I started. Sarah, love of my life—would you do me the honor of wearing my ring?"
"Of course I will," Sarah told him, and, his eyes fixed on hers, as if Jill wasn't there at all, he slid the ring onto her finger, where it fit perfectly—then pulled her in close for a kiss.
The world fell away when their lips touched. There was nothing but the two of them—Chuck's arms around her, his ring on her finger, and all the promises it held. When they separated and her surroundings came rushing back in again, she was aware of all of their friends whooping—but when she turned to look at Jill, to see what Chuck's ex had made of this, no one stood next to them.
As quickly as she had appeared, Jill Roberts was gone.
OoOoOoOoO
That evening, after they'd said goodbye to everyone and gone back to their cottage, Sarah and Chuck sat outside on the front porch, watching the sun slip below the horizon. Sarah's mom was staying with them, but even though it was still early, she'd retired to what—for now—they'd fixed up as a guest room, a glass of wine in one hand and a good book in the other. Sarah hoped that one day, not too far in the future, the room might be a nursery—but they had all the time in the world to figure that out. For now, it was the perfect place for her mom to stay whenever she came to visit—and Sarah had extended an open invitation. It made her so happy to be able to share the life she'd built with her mom—even if, tonight, Emma had insisted that Chuck and Sarah have their own space.
"You two need some alone time," she'd told them when Sarah protested. "I remember what it's like to be young and feel like everything's in front of you—and this is a night for celebration. The last thing I want is to be in the way. Don't worry—tomorrow I'll rope the two of you into doing the 1,000-piece puzzle I brought with me. You'll be wishing I was sitting in my room, reading Nora Roberts."
Chuck's brow had wrinkled. "Why would I wish that?" he'd said, bewilderment etched on his face. "I love puzzles."
At that, Emma had smiled at him—a genuine grin that lit her eyes. "Of course you do, my love," she'd said, patting Chuck on the shoulder. "Sarah, you've got a good one here. Don't ever let him go."
"I don't plan to," Sarah had told her mother—and it was true. She didn't.
Now, she and Chuck sat side by side in the front porch's weathered rocking chairs, relishing the slight nip in the air that characterized December in Monterey. They'd taken the wine bottle with them, and Chuck leaned forward, tipping Shiraz into her glass, then his. He lifted his glass in a wordless toast, and she clinked hers against it.
"Sarah," he said, after taking a swallow, "are we good?"
She glanced down at the ring on her finger, where the diamonds sparkled, caught in the fading rays of light. "I'd say we're better than good, Chuck. Why do you ask? Do you know something I don't—again?"
He shook his head, a slight smile curving the corners of his lips. "For once, no. I just—Jill showing up that way—I didn't want you to think . . ."
"That you had the remotest inkling of interest in her? Seriously? I think you comparing her to a house fire pretty much put the kibosh on that." She returned his smile, hoping to put him at ease—but concern still flickered in the depths of his hazel eyes.
"I know," he said, "but I keep thinking about Bryce—"
"Is that what's bothering you?" She took a deep swig of her wine, then set it down on the wicker end table between them. "Chuck, for the thousandth time, you are nothing like him. I wouldn't care if Jill showed up on our doorstep with a five-piece band and a truckload of Charleston Chews." She raised an eyebrow at him; she'd recently learned that, inexplicably, this was Chuck's favorite candy. "I know you love me. I don't think you'd ever cheat on me—and not just because of this." She held up the hand that wore his ring. "Whatever you have to prove to me, you've done it long ago. You and me—no matter what, we're good. And quite frankly, the way you put Jill in her place was kinda . . . hot."
His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth as if to reply—but she took advantage of the moment instead, leaning across the end table to kiss him. He tasted of red wine and the chocolate layer cake Emma had made for dessert—a delectable blend that she never wanted to go without.
When she pulled away, Chuck looked dazed. "Well," he said at last, "okay, then."
Giving a contented sigh, he sat back and crossed his legs at the ankles, looking up at the sky, where the sun was putting on a dazzling display of pinks and oranges, as if showing off just for them. Sarah gazed upward too, feeling no need to fill the silence. What she'd said to Chuck was no less than the truth; she had complete faith in him—in them. She couldn't believe how much her life had changed in the past six months—and she couldn't imagine feeling any happier than this.
But then, as always, Chuck surprised her—proving, once and for all, that the two of them were meant to be.
"Did you know," he said, taking her hand in his and echoing the words that she'd imagined her dream lover saying so long ago, "that most stars come in pairs? Imagine how gorgeous sunsets over the ocean would be, if we lived in a world that had more than one sun."
A/N: Thanks so much for seeing The Heart of Eden all the way through to the not-so-bitter end! We're not sure what we're going to work on next—we'll probably take a little break to regroup—but rest assured, we're not going anywhere . . . and we'd love to hear your thoughts on what story you'd most like for us to explore next.
As always, thanks for reading—and please keep your reviews, follows, and favorites coming our way! They really do make this all worthwhile.