Most Eligible Epilogue
Happy 6 months to Most Eligible!
Happy Monday!
Today marks six months since Most Eligible published in January, which is a truly wild and unbelievable milestone! Thank you to all the readers who have supported Most Eligible and helped it spread its wings since publication! It is so fulfilling to see people’s love for Georgia and Rhett, as well as for the zany cast of Love Shack!
What better way to celebrate than with an epilogue that takes place at the wedding of my very favorite character?! 👀 I wrote this epilogue back in 2023/2024 along with the rest of the book, but during revisions, we ended up cutting it so that the story is bracketed by mixed media excerpts (the transcript of Georgia's audition video and her final article about Love Shack). I absolutely love the way the book ends now! I think it's such a fitting way to wrap up the story. But I also was really excited about the idea of releasing this one last piece of the story that was living only on my laptop. It’s short and sweet, swoony, and of course, a bit silly. I may have laughed out loud when re-reading it at a joke I forgot about.
Before you read on, this epilogue does contain spoilers for the book! If you haven’t read Most Eligible yet, I would suggest doing that first unless you really love spoilers for some reason! You can grab a copy at your local library or purchase one here. It’s on sale in a number of places like B&N, Bookshop.org, and Amazon.
And I am obligated to say that you should also pre-order my next book, Still Falling for You! There may be a very small cameo of one of the Most Eligible characters in it 👀
Without further ado…
Epilogue
One year after filming wrapped for Love Shack season 20.
Las Vegas
“It’s a miracle we survived the bachelorette party.” Philippa shades her eyes with her hand and squints over the crowd of wedding guests. “When she started stripping right up onstage beside the professionals… I thought we were goners.”
“We’re just lucky she didn’t make us get up there with her,” Nina whispers from my other side. I grin at the memory of the previous night, even though smiling at anything right now is hard with the Las Vegas sun beating down on the wedding venue like an inferno.
I scan the distant road for the umpteenth time, but no cars show any signs of turning down the venue’s long driveway. The guests and producers are getting antsy, the Elvis impersonator is on his fourth shot of Fireball, leaning heavily on the makeshift altar, and the couple is thirty minutes late to their own wedding.
Brooklyn, next to me in the bridesmaid lineup, leans over and whispers, “When you get married, I want you there on the dot.”
“Noted,” I laugh, running my finger over the engagement ring on my left hand. It’s simple, like everything else about our engagement—exactly how I wanted it. Right down to the yellow onesie I was wearing last month when he knelt on the foot of my bed—our bed—and asked me, voice cracking, to marry him. As different as possible from his and Cassidy’s ritzy, oceanside proposal, and hopefully that’s a good thing.
I find Rhett where he sits in the second row, in his shirtsleeves since he abandoned his suit jacket the second we got out of the car. He smirks at me and pats the Baby Bjorn strapped to his chest.
“He’s such a natural,” Nina whispers. “It took me months to get used to those things.”
I wink at Rhett, sure he’s heard the whole exchange. He smiles back at me and even under his dark shades, I know his green eyes are sparkling. I know he’s enjoying the attention the baby sling brings, that people aren’t just approaching him because his newest album stayed at the top of the Billboard charts for six weeks straight.
It was a little much to bring a cat disguised as a baby to a wedding, sure, but we couldn’t leave her at home. And Olie has never been a traditionalist. Case in point: having five of her fiancé’s exes as her bridesmaids. It was a mark of her true friendship that she didn’t dismiss me when I finally told her the truth about why I’d gone on Love Shack. She just pointed to the friendship tattoo on my wrist and suggested we make a blood pact.
“Look!” Chloe calls out. She points over the heads of the guests toward the road that winds down from the Vegas strip, where a black stretch limo is slowly approaching. Cameras swarm around the car as the back door opens and Olie and Roland tumble out, Olie pulling down her dress and Roland re-buttoning his tuxedo jacket.
“Were they…” Nina begins.
“Definitely,” I answer.
If anyone had doubts about Roland and Olie, they were put to rest as soon as their relationship went public at the season finale party. Headlines the next day included “R-Olie get handsy at the after party” and “Love Shack’s X-rated finale.”
Roland and Olie stumble up the aisle and take their places in front of Elvis, who adjusts his shades and slurs into the microphone, “Rolie and Oland, everybody.”
“Ay, Dios,” Nina mutters, shaking her head. “And this is on live TV.”
When the ceremony is over, the cameras cut and only a few producers with handhelds remain for the afterparty.
Rhett’s arm winds around my waist and kisses my forehead, whispering against my skin, “I love you.”
I smile into his shoulder. “I love you too.” I’ll never get tired of hearing it. Just like when he says my name, it’s new each time.
The baby sling bumps between us and I peek down, smiling at the ball of fur cuddled into Rhett’s chest. She blinks up at me, yellow eyes wide, and meows.
I grab a flute of prosecco from a passing waiter and take a sip as Roland and Olie approach. “Get ready,” I mutter.
“Georgia, my love,” Olie says, wrapping me in a heavily-perfumed hug. She goes for Rhett next, enveloping him in a tight, armpit-forward hug. “It’s been a while, man.” She socks him on the arm and he winces, placing a hand protectively over the sling.
Roland is close behind her and his eyes bulge at the sight of the Baby Bjorn. “Holy shit. Is that—did you guys—”
“It’s a cat,” Rhett says.
“Right.” Roland nods slowly. But he peeks into the sling just to be sure.
“What’s her name again?” Olie asks, grabbing a passing charcuterie plate and popping a cheese cube into her mouth.
“Cowgirl.” I smile.
Olie pauses, mid-chew. “Won’t that give her, like, some sort of identity complex?”
Rhett laughs, but Olie is already onto the next topic of conversation. “How’s the tour been?” Olie asks. “Good? What is this, the eighteenth week?”
Rhett goes pink in the face. “Are you keeping tabs on me?”
“Just looking out for my girl here.” She goes to sock me in the arm, but I’m too quick for her and her fist whizzes past me without making contact.
“We’re heading to Seattle next week,” I say. I’ve been traveling with him for the entire tour—me and the cat—working on a series of articles for The Record, a popular music blog started a few years ago by a female country artist to promote diversity in country music. In each location Rhett has performed in, I’ve written about the music scene, detailing the culture of the city, the venues, and which artists owe their success to the local crowds.
It helped once Serena went public with my name as Rhett’s mystery woman; people came for the scandal, but stayed for the music.
Roland draws Olie in for such a long kiss that I’m blushing by the time they finish.
“Bet he never kissed you like that,” Rhett murmurs into my hair.
I elbow him in the stomach. The jokes about Roland haven’t gone away, no matter how much I whine.
“You ready to get this party started, man?” Roland asks, patting Rhett on the shoulder, his lips smeared with Olie’s ruby-red lipstick.
Rhett disengages from Cowgirl’s carrier and helps me put it on over my dress. “You know, when we got a kitten, I was hoping she’d require less care than your previous… patients. But you had to pick the one with separation anxiety.”
“And you love her.”
“I do,” he says. “And I love you.”
He leans in and kisses me, running his tongue over my bottom lip before he pulls back and smiles. “When we get married, we’re doing the bachelor parties in advance. Not the night before.” His eyes are as ringed with exhaustion from Roland’s blowout as I’m sure mine are from Olie’s.
He pecks me on the lips again and makes his way to the stage on the dance floor, picking up his guitar and playing a few chords to tune it.
Cowgirl and I wander over to Nina and the other bridesmaids. “Too bad Rhett doesn’t want to host again,” Nina says, eyeing him across the crowd. “I wonder who they’ll get for Brooklyn’s season.”
“Oprah?” I suggest and she laughs, head thrown back, her curly hair cascading like a waterfall.
Brooklyn is currently tearing up the dance floor to Taylor Swift with Chloe riding on her lap. Her season of Love Shack will start filming in a few months, and I’ve already promised to visit the mansion during one of her group dates. She’s the only person I’d agree to go back for, though the prospect is less scary now that Lainey has departed the franchise, and apparently, the country.
The string lights in the tent dim. Rhett steps up to the mic and runs a hand through his hair as he steadies the guitar on the strap around his shoulders. A spark runs through me and I wrap my arms around Cowgirl, who’s fallen back asleep.
“Hi y’all, I’m Rhett Auburn,” he says, lips so close to the mic it muffles his voice a bit. The crowd hushes and he smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m just the opening act.” Laughter trickles around the room and Rhett points over at a DJ booth to the side of the dance floor where a familiar red bearded man is standing. Rhett takes a breath, and I know what comes next. “We’ve got DJ Defib ready to drop some sick beats for y’all.” I giggle into my drink as Rhett scowls. Norbert made him swear he’d say those words exactly. He’s taken over as Love Shack’s EP, but still manages to find time for his fledgling DJ career.
“Okay, then,” Rhett continues, gracefully moving on. “Let’s get started.”
His set is a mix of covers and original music spanning back to his first album, through his folky sophomore tracks, and coming to the new music he put out a few months ago. It’s by far his best, blending his folky, acoustic voice with some faster-paced rhythms and just a hint of that country twang I fell in love with.
Rhett and his band get to the chorus of their first song, attacking their guitar strings with a ferocity matched only by that of Roland and Olie’s dancing.
“The only good I’ve ever done,
The only mile I’ve never run,
The only, only, only”
The band cycles through a few more songs and by the time he gets to the end, Cowgirl and I are swaying to the music with Nina and Brooklyn.
“All right, y’all, this is my last song, but before I get going, let’s hear it again for our lovely couple, Olie and Roland!”
The guests all cheer as Olie and Roland make out again, hands roving way further south than they should in a public place.
“Whoa there, you two,” Rhett says, leaning into the mic. “Let’s keep it PG-13. But seriously, y’all, these two are a fantastic couple. I saw it right from the beginning and I couldn’t be happier for them.” He pauses, strums a chord on his guitar, adjusts the strings, and comes back to the mic. “This last song I’m going to play for y’all is off my new album and… well, it’ll be obvious what it’s about.” He smiles, lips tugging higher on one side as he searches for my eyes. “Georgia, this one’s for you.”
I’ve heard the song hundreds of times since Rhett first played it for me in my apartment the night the finale of Roland’s season aired. We were sitting on my bed, watching the TV I’d bought specifically to watch Love Shack live, and Rhett pulled out his guitar during an ad break. Then, like now, the words took my breath away, and my eyes zeroed in on him like he was the whole wide world.
Even though “Georgia in Pink” has become a platinum-certified track, the words burrow into my heart because no matter how many strangers hear them, they’re for me.
It starts simple, just Rhett on guitar, but by the time they reach the bridge, the whole band is playing and Rhett’s voice is free, open, tearing the notes apart as he nails each and every one. The last few words are drawn out with a jazzy trill, and he closes his eyes as the sound pours out of him. When he opens them, he beams down at me and blows me a kiss.
He shrugs out of his guitar and hands it off to his drummer, then he steps off the stage and makes his way straight to me like there aren’t several hundred people and a few cameras watching. Cupping the back of my neck, he draws my mouth to his, keeping a careful distance for Cowgirl in between us.
A roar of sound makes me jump back as Norbert gets on the mic and bellows, “Get ready to re-start your heart!” followed by the opening notes of a song that’s become all too familiar. “Love Shack” by the B-52s bursts over the speakers and Olie jumps onto Roland, wrapping her legs around him and humping him in midair.
Rhett pushes me back to the edge of the tent and takes my face in his hands, kissing me again, running his tongue over my prosecco-chilled lips.
Cowgirl meows and we break apart, laughing. “Great job,” I say. “Even better than last week.”
He smiles ruefully. “You really think so?”
“Yes. The album is fantastic. You’re fantastic.”
He shakes his head, still holding my face in his hands. His eyes are intense, burning, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You—Georgia, the best part of the album is you. The best part of me is you.”
My heart speeds up as I say, “Should we just do it—get married now? I mean, we are in Vegas. We can do a big party later.” It spills from my mouth like a smattering of diamonds, lighting up his face.
He presses his forehead to mine. “They won’t miss us.”
Hand in hand, we sneak away from the tent and toward the Vegas strip, off to find another Elvis impersonator who isn’t plastered. When we get to the road, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close, “Love Shack” still beating through our feet.
When we kiss, when he whispers my name into the hollow of my mouth, melts his lips to my forehead, it’s a revelation all over again to know that it isn’t for the cameras at the season premiere, it isn’t for the producers or the fans.
It’s just for us.
The end.
Thank you for reading! I hope you had a good time and maybe laughed a little bit. <3
Until next time!
Isabelle 🌹
Before you read on (to the post or comments), beware of spoilers if you haven’t read Most Eligible yet!!
I will always love more of Georgia and Rhett!!