Epilogue - Purrfect Valentine

“Last one, Muff.” I pressed the plunger, watching the final dose of GS-441 disappear into muscle that was actually there now—not the wasted, fluid-swollen tissue I’d first examined all those weeks ago. Her coat gleamed white and tan, and her fur had gotten longer. Her eyes tracked the needle with sharp annoyance rather than the dull acceptance of a sick cat. When I withdrew and pressed a cotton ball to the injection site, she twisted in my grip and tried to scale my scrubs.

“That’s it, baby,” I reminded her. “You’re a survivor now. A medical miracle. Act like it.”

She hissed directly in my face.

“I’m going to choose to believe that you just said thank you, in which case, you’re welcome.”

Muffy hissed again, licking the injection spot over and over when I removed the cotton ball.

Denise appeared in the doorway. One look at my expression and she was grinning. “That the last one?”

“That’s the last one. 84 days and her white blood cell count is that of a normal cat.”

She whooped loud enough to send Muffy’s ears flat against her skull, and the next few minutes blurred into chaos—Margot crying, phones ringing, the whole town apparently tracking Muffy’s treatment.

We did it. She did it.

And Corbin had promised a surprise when I got home.

I did not, however, expect my house to be glowing. Fairy lights dripped from the porch railing, wound through the bushes, framed the front door like something out of a Hallmark movie. The porch light was on, and through the windows I could make out shapes moving. Music drifted out, something soft I couldn’t place.

I barely had time to get out of my car before the door swung open.

“Surprise?” Corbin stood in the doorway wearing a dark blue sweater I liked, glasses slightly crooked, looking nervous and proud in equal measure. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of streamers. Pink ones.

“What did you⁠—”

Bernie answered before Corbin could, barreling past him, and I braced for impact a second too late. His paws hit my shoulders, his tongue found my face, and I staggered back laughing while he tried to lick me into submission.

“Bernie—down—you absolute menace⁠—”

“He’s excited.” Corbin was grinning now. “We all are. Get in here.”

The living room had been transformed. More fairy lights strung along the ceiling. A banner reading MUFFY’S REMISSION PARTY in hand-lettered script. Trays of food on the coffee table. And in the corner, a station labeled For the Animals with organic treats arranged in a basket.

Bev and Wim stood by the snack table, petting Daisy, who had been one of the café cats before she got in a fight with Aphrodite, and I brought Daisy home. Denise and Margot had commandeered the couch. I spotted a handful of faces from town—people who’d asked about Muffy at the café, who’d sent treats to the clinic, who’d somehow become invested in whether one tiny kitten would survive. Even Lynx and Ivy were there, her sitting in his lap and whispering in his ear.

“You threw me a party,” I said.

“I threw Muffy a party.” Corbin’s hand found the small of my back. “You’re a bonus guest.”

“He’s been cooking all day,” Wim called out. “Made those little sandwich things himself. And the cat treats.”

“From scratch,” Bev added. “Our Superman’s become quite domestic.”

A commotion erupted from the hallway before I could respond.

Bernie came thundering back into the room, tongue lolling, tail wagging hard enough to create a breeze. And perched on his back like a tiny furry queen surveying her kingdom—paws gripping what appeared to be a makeshift saddle, tail straight up in her signature I am magnificent pose—was Muffy.

I lost it, bending over to brace myself on my knees as I laughed and coughed and choked on more laughter.

Muffy rode Bernie around the coffee table, through the cheering crowd, past the food station where she attempted to steal a piece of salmon before Corbin intercepted her.

“How—” I wheezed, clutching his arm. “How did you even⁠—”

“Three days of training with the new saddle.” He was grinning, incandescent. “Bernie’s a good sport. Muffy’s a tyrant. Match made in heaven.”

“She’s riding him like royalty.”

“My baby is royalty. Have you met her?”

Bev materialized at my elbow. “Cat Dad over here spent four hours on those sandwiches,” she informed me, pointing at the tray. “Four hours. For you.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I am not. Wim timed him at the café this morning.”

“Three hours and forty-seven minutes,” Wim confirmed.

Corbin’s ears went pink. “The bread was complicated.”

“Mmhm.” Bev patted my arm. “That’s what love looks like, sweetheart. A man who’ll fight with bread dough.”

“Speaking of love, did you hear that Fitz and Elodie are coming back this week? Misty said their flight from England gets in on Friday.” Wim wiggled her eyebrows. “$50 says they eloped.”

“Nah,” Bev shook her head. “The Brit is too much of a romantic.”

They bickered back and forth and Corbin tugged me away to show me all the food he’d prepared. I wrapped my arm around his waist and tugged him towards me.

“This is amazing. All of this.”

“Thank you,” he said, dimples showing as he pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I think she deserves it all.”

“She does.” I leaned into him. “You make a good cat dad.”

He beamed at me. “I do, don’t I?”

The party wound down as sunset started painting the windows gold. Bev was last out the door, cupping my face in weathered hands. “You did well. With all of it. With him.” Her attention flicked to Corbin gathering plates. “Now go enjoy your evening. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s not a long list,” Wim called from the porch.

“Exactly.”

The door clicked shut. The house settled into warmth and fairy-light glow. Bernie had claimed the couch, already snoring. Muffy was draped across his back, using him as her personal heated throne.

I found Corbin in the kitchen, scrubbing a pan, and I wrapped my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek into his shoulder blade. “Thank you. For all of this.”

He turned off the water. Dried his hands. Spun to face me. “I have one more surprise.”

“Corbin, you’ve already⁠—”

“Trust me.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Get your jacket. I want to show you something.”

“Where are we going?”

His mouth curved. “You’ll see.”

The new Mustang gleamed in my driveway, cherry red and obnoxiously beautiful.

“I still can’t believe you got a new one. You know they’re shit in the snow, right?” I asked, sliding into the passenger seat. The leather was butter-soft, that new-car smell still clinging to everything.

“And the Bug isn’t?”

“You’re right. When snow hits, we’re both fucked.”

“Yup. But at least this one has heated seats.”

“I thought you loved that old car, though,” I said, adjusting the angle of the seat so it didn’t feel like I was laying on my back.

“I did. And Lynx tried to save her.” Corbin started the engine, and it purred like a satisfied cat. “But he said he’d never seen an engine that determined to die. Figured if the universe was telling me to move on, I should listen.”

“The universe told you to buy another muscle car?”

“The universe told me to stop holding onto things that weren’t working.” He glanced at me, something soft in his expression. “The muscle car was my idea. Wanna go for a ride?”

“Sure.”

We wound up the mountain as the sun sank lower, the valley spreading gold beneath us. I knew where we were going before we got there. Lover’s Point. Where teenagers came to make questionable decisions and couples came to watch the light fade. Some of the locals told me about it when I’d first moved to Cupid Corner over three years ago, but I’d never actually been up here.

He parked at the overlook’s edge, and I noticed with satisfaction that we were the only car there. Corbin killed the engine. Through the windshield, Cupid Corner glittered below us, the mountains rising purple and orange against the sunset.

“So.” He turned to face me. “This is where we christen the new car.”

“Christen?”

“Seemed appropriate.” His hand rested on my thigh, thumb tracing circles through my jeans. “Since the last one died.”

I giggled, the sound bouncing off the leather and glass. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stalling.” His voice dropped as he bit the corner of his lower lip. The hand on my thigh slid higher. “Come here.”

I unbuckled first, and then I was climbing over the center console—awkward, graceless, laughing against his mouth as he caught me halfway and pulled me into his lap. My knees bracketed his hips, jacket brushing the steering wheel. His dark blue sweater was soft under my palms where I braced them on his chest, but underneath it his body was all heat and hard muscle, the same solid warmth I’d spent the last couple months learning by heart.

“Careful,” he murmured against my lips, “don’t want to set off the horn.”

“Tilt your seat back.”

He did, and then, to my surprise, he slapped my ass. His grin flashed, wicked. “This is going to be fun.”

I rolled my eyes, but the banter dissolved the second he kissed me again—deeper this time, slower. My fingers curled into that thick, dark hair of his, and I tugged just enough to make him growl low in his throat.

His hands pushed under my jacket, under my sweater, finding bare skin at my waist. Calluses scraped lightly, sending sparks straight down my spine. I arched into the touch, grinding down instinctively, feeling him already hard beneath me through both our jeans.

“Fuck,” he breathed, forehead pressed to mine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this here.”

“Let me guess. Since you bought the car?” I teased, nipping his lip.

“Yes. Because I realized the only thing better than driving it would be fucking you in it.”

Heat flooded me at the blunt words. I rocked against him again, deliberate, loving the way his hands flexed on my hips like he was fighting not to rip my clothes off right then.

Windows were already starting to fog from our breathing. Good. Let them.

I reached between us, popping the button on his jeans. He hissed when my fingers brushed him through the fabric, then groaned outright when I worked the zipper down and slipped my hand inside. I stroked him slowly, watching his jaw clench, those intense eyes darken behind the glasses he hadn’t bothered to take off.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered.

“Not yet.” I leaned in, kissing along his jaw, down the column of his throat where his pulse hammered. “I want to feel you first.”

He moved fast then—hands shoving my jacket off my shoulders, yanking my sweater up and over my head in one impatient motion. Cool air hit my skin, pebbling my nipples through my bralette, but his mouth was there a second later, hot and wet, sucking one peak through lace until I moaned. My fingers tightened in his hair as he switched sides, teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp.

“Off,” he ordered, voice rough. “Everything.”

We fumbled together. In hindsight, we should’ve removed the pants first before I’d climbed on top of him. It felt like we were in a clown car as we tried to remove arguably the worst type of fabric. The only thing that would’ve been worse would’ve been spandex. Definitely latex. Corbin helped me shove my jeans down my thighs, but I had to turn around and sit on his lap to do so. Both of us couldn’t stop laughing, and by the time we got mine off, we were both out of breath already; him leaning his head against my back and chuckling. It took another two minutes to get his jeans off because, yes, my boyfriend wore tighter jeans than me.

Finally, I turned back around and straddled him again.

“Next time, we think this through a bit better,” I said, kissing his sweaty forehead.

“Whatever you say,” his focus was on my hand, which wrapped around his cock and was stroking it up and down. “Would you please take your seat now?”

I rolled my eyes. “So impatient.” I braced one hand on the roof, the other on his shoulder, and sank down onto him in one slow, slick glide.

We both froze for a second, breathing hard. Then he thrust up—shallow at first, testing—and I broke on a shaky laugh-moan. “God, Corbin⁠—”

“Yeah?” He gripped my ass, guiding me into a rhythm. “Tell me.”

“You feel so fucking good.” I rolled my hips, taking him deeper, loving the stretch, the drag, the way he filled every inch. The car rocked with us, leather creaking, windows fogging completely now so the sunset outside was just a warm blur. “Fuck, I’m so full.”

“You take it so well. Faster, baby. Take me faster.”

I rode him harder, faster, chasing my pleasure. One of his hands slid up my back, under my hair, fisting gently at the nape so he could pull my mouth to his. The kisses turned messy, desperate—teeth and tongue and shared breaths. I moved his mouth to my breasts, pulling down the lace for him to suck and nip and lick.

Twice I hit my head on the ceiling, and both times we ended up laughing. But the laughing turned to moans and swears as he slipped his fingers between us and circled my clit. Over and over and over again, all the while murmuring filthy words of praise in my ear. We were both drenched in sweat as I leaned my head into the crook of his neck, moving my hips up and down at a different angle that had him hitting the perfect spot.

When I came, I gasped, my whole body clenching hard around him, my thighs trembling as my muscles spasmed. He swore against my lips, hips snapping up once, twice—then he followed, burying deep with a guttural groan, pulsing inside me while I trembled through the aftershocks.

We stayed like that for long minutes, foreheads pressed together, breathing ragged, the car smelling like sex and new leather and us. Through the fogged windows, the light of sunset painted everything gold.

“Officially christened,” he murmured against my hair.

I chuckled, kissing the hollow of his salty throat. “Very thoroughly.”

We cleaned up with a small pack of tissues from my purse—classy—and managed to make ourselves presentable enough to step outside on the off chance another car had pulled up while we were otherwise preoccupied. The air was cold and sharp, a shock after the warmth of the car. Below us, the valley had started to twinkle with evening lights. We were still alone.

Corbin took my hand and led me to the edge of the overlook.

“It’s gorgeous,” I sighed, leaning against him.

“Yeah, you are.” He stared down at me when I glanced up, a smile on his lips. I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to respond, but the smile disappeared from his face. “Al.” His voice was different now. Nervous in a way I hadn’t heard since the day he’d shown up on my porch with soup and flowers and a kitten in his coat. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay...”

“Three months ago, I was driving to win back a woman who’d dumped me over text. I’d been laid off. My car broke down. A kitten with the spirit of a leech attached itself to my leg. And a veterinarian with pink hair entered my life when I was pretty sure my entire life was over.”

I squeezed his hand. “It’s been a crazy three months..”

He turned to face me fully, and the sunset caught his glasses, his jaw, the nervous bob of his throat. “I didn’t come to Cupid Corner looking for a future. I came here because it was the only place in walking distance. I was broken and bitter and convinced that love was something you had to earn by making yourself smaller.”

“Corbin—”

“Let me finish.” He took a breath. “You showed me what it looks like when someone gives a shit. Not because I earned it. Not because I was easy to love. But because that’s who you are. You love the scared, sick creatures who show up on your doorstep, even when they’re too stubborn to admit they need help. I love you so much, and I can’t imagine what it would be like to be without you by my side.”

My eyes were stinging. I blinked hard.

“I don’t need perfect timing,” he said. “I don’t need fancy restaurants or the right moment. I just need you. Well,” he said, smirking. “You and Ragbutt.”

I wiped a tear away from my cheek with a snort.

Corbin dropped to one knee.

The world went very still. Below us, Cupid Corner glittered. Above us, the first stars were emerging. Corbin knelt on the gravel, pulling a small velvet box from his jacket pocket with shaking hands.

“Ally.” His voice cracked. “Alyssa. Will you marry me?”

The ring caught the fading light—simple, elegant, a diamond solitaire on a delicate gold band. Perfect.

“Yes.” The word tore out of me. “Yes, you idiot, obviously yes⁠—”

He was on his feet before I finished, catching me in his arms, spinning me while I laughed and cried against his shoulder. When he set me down, his hands were still trembling as he slid the ring onto my finger.

“I can’t believe you proposed at Lover’s Point,” I managed. “After car sex. You absolute cliché.”

“I can’t believe you said yes after car sex.” He was grinning, wet-eyed, incandescent. “Would’ve said no somewhere fancier?”

“I’d have said yes anywhere.” I pulled him close, forehead to forehead. “I love you, Mr. Wright.”

“I knew my last name would come in handy at some point.” He swayed with me in his arms.

“How long have you been planning this?”

He shrugged, eyes glittering. “A couple weeks. I called Jamie and your parents to tell them last week.”

“What?” I pulled back and looked up at him. “Jamie can’t keep a secret to save his life, and I talked to him on the phone yesterday.”

Corbin nodded. “I was worried he would say something, but he’s been so distracted by that woman he’s been talking about non-stop that my plans miraculously stayed a secret.”

“He really does hate that woman.”

“I don’t know. When I talked to him, he was going on and on about how inappropriate she looked at the work event they had, but it all sounded like he was just into her.” Corbin wiggled his eyebrows.

“Ew. I don’t want to think about my little brother being into anyone. In my mind, he’s still a little kid.”

“Isn’t he only a couple years younger than you?”

“Yes.” I sighed, leaning my head against his chest.

Behind us, the sun slipped below the mountains. The valley glowed with scattered lights.

“Come on.” Corbin wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tucking me against his side. “Let’s go home and tell Muffy she and Bernie get to be the ring bearers at the wedding.”

“Um…I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“Don’t worry. You did.”

I laughed, letting him tug me back towards the Mustang. Back towards Cupid Corner. Back towards home.