I couldn't leave him so sad, so here is part Two/the Epilogue.

I hope you like this part as much too.

.

… Part Two …

He was working at his desk trying to make sense of the cash flow statements. Things were good at the garage. He had four mechanics working for him now. Freeing him up to do the paperwork. Tedious things like the cash flow statements.

His office was much like his house, organized chaos his sister called it. She was right, he knew where everything in the piles of receipts and papers was, he just couldn't guarantee the state it would be in when he got to it.

There was a large window on the eastern wall of the small office and the blinds, as always, were pulled back to let in what natural sunlight it could of the afternoon sun. Sunsets in the dreary wet town were more often than not wet; clouds obscuring the best of the pallet. Yet he always watched as the sun set, mostly from his office window. But sometimes he'd walk the two blocks to his house by the beach and sit out, either on his porch or on the sand to watch it set over the horizon. Remembering that a new day was beginning on the other side of the world.

He brought his attention back and his eyes focused on the computer screen in front of him. A screen saver of a coral reef had appeared. He shifted the mouse, the financial spread-sheet flashing white on the screen again.

He worked a little more, imputing invoices, and receipts. Standing and moving over to the filing cabinet, he opened the beige metallic drawer, putting away a pile of this month's statements. A flash of orange caught his eye. Stuck to the top of the cabinet with ticky tack, was the little piece of painted coral, now a little faded, the color lessened by the accumulation of dust on the edges.

There was a clay model of a fish that Quil and Claire's youngest, Hini, had painted for him last summer break sitting next to the coral. So, too, was a jar of caramels, old and stuck to the glass and photos of his friends and family in assorted frames. Most of them the garish decorative type, with, glitter and feathers and sequins and buttons, all stuck on with non-toxic craft glue.

Over the last five years his friends and family had taken it upon themselves to adopt him, the eternal bachelor, into their families. He was Uncle Jake to all the kids, babysitting occasionally while their parents had a date night. Spoiling them with candies and junk when their mothers weren't watching.

He didn't mind it this way. He had the love and affection of children without the reasonability. He was still free to go out whenever he wanted, with whoever he wanted, and do whatever he wanted.

And he'd done it well. Many times. But none had ever caught him long enough to keep him. He'd sworn he was never going to stumble down that road again.

Bella and the musician had made a life together. She'd taken the furniture, the last two months of the advance paid rent and her old Chevy truck and moved into his expensive house in the woods. He'd got the business, both their bikes… and a honeymoon.

He'd stayed with his father for a few months, six to be exact. Until he'd saved up enough for a deposit on his own house. It was a small two bedroom cottage on the water. Close to the garage, and only a stone's throw to the surf and to the sand where he'd sit and watch the setting sun.

He shut the filing drawer with a scraping clink, the contents on the top jostling slightly. Then he sat back at his desk. His sister, an accountant, did the quarterly statements for him, but it was up to Jake to do the weeklies.

He typed for another five or ten minutes when there was a quick knock on the door and his floor manager, who was also his friend and his cousin, stepped in.

"Jake, there is some kind of beach bunny goddess asking for you down stairs. She said to give you this." Quil placed it on the desk by his arm.

It was a shell. The shape of a cone, small and white, a pattern of light brown dots lined around it.

He stared at the shell for a minute, watching as the sun filtering through the window brought out the opalescence of the pointed tip. He brought his hand across, his fingers slowly wrapping around the little thing. It was still warm, either from her or from Quil, he didn't know. But it didn't matter.

He knew that shell; he'd been the one who'd found it, and he'd been the one who gave it to her.

He stood from his desk, the chair rolling back gently on the floorboards. He ran out the office door. His office was upstairs in a built-on loft that over looked the work-shop and he ran down the industrial grate stairs, his boots making a metallic echoing sound through the shop as he did. The guys all looked up from whichever cars they'd been bent over, watching the boss as he ran like a kid across the oil stained concrete.

He skidded to a halt as he entered the reception room. There she was, standing in front of the counter.

She had on a pair of short denim cut offs, frayed with little spindles of fibers fringing out. Her legs still as long and tanned as he'd remember them. She had on sandals, her toes painted a bright coral pink.

But it was her eyes that held him. Her long bold lashes framing such a vivid green. His memory hadn't done them justice.

And then she smiled. Prefect full lips pulling over white straight teeth.

"Hi," she whispered. "Remember me?"

The air whooshed out of his lungs in one long, quick breath. Remember her? Hardly a day had gone by when he didn't think about her. He'd tried to track her down. After months back home, sorting out the legalities and finances of the de facto separation and finding himself a place of his own, he'd still been unable to get her out of his mind. He'd called the resort, but she'd long left to go back to school. He'd asked for her forwarding details, but they wouldn't release it— privacy, they'd said. He'd even used a satellite map on the internet to find the name of the street and post a letter to her grandparents. But he'd had no reply.

That was five years ago. And he'd been forced to let go of any hope that they'd be reunited. He'd resigned her to a memory. One that he held and cherished, but a memory all the same. And now, here she was, in the flesh, standing right in front of him. And all the memories came flooding back.

He nodded, smiling as she stepped around the counter.

"Hi," he smiled, licking his lips. "What…? How…?" he was at a loss for words; until he defaulted back to the time honored greeting once more... "Hi."

"Hi."

"How, Ness?"

"There aren't that many reservations in the pacific northwest."

He just raised an avid brow at that. She'd looked for him. Just like he had. It had taken her several years more, but she'd looked for him. And here she was.

"I…" his hand came to cover his lips, words still escaping him. "I can't believe you're really here."

"Believe it," she said with a smile before biting her lip between her teeth, her head falling to the side as she just let him look. She liked how it made her feel when it was his eyes on her skin. She could finally breath for the first time in years. Her kismet, at last, in her grasp.

They stood there, face to face for a minute more, just soaking in the sight of each other. She was just as tanned as he'd remembered, her hair still that same brown bronzed color. Though now it was cut just below her shoulders, curling above her breasts that were hidden behind a modest scooped neck, forest green long sleeve t-shirt.

Eventually he broke out of his spell, stepping back and motioning her to follow. "I've just got to close up and stuff, and then we can go somewhere if you like. You hungry?"

"Always," she said, her voice low and throaty, and full of double meaning as she stepped in behind him.

All work stopped as the beauty followed him back up the stairs, the background song on the radio playing as their ascending metallic steps echoed across the expanse.

He held the door for her as she stepped in. That same smell of salt and rosemary assaulting him as she brushed past. Then the door shut with a resounding click. And it catapulted him over to his desk. He sat down, quickly saving the myriad of files that were open in his desktop. Piling papers up and cleaning the old pizza crust off the plate that he had been using as a weight.

She shifted the brown leather fringed bag over her shoulder and stepped quietly around the room as she waited. Her eyes scanned over the framed accolades on the wall. She read over the cut-out newspaper article he'd been in. BlackAuto had done well for its self the past few years. It was his pride and joy— his baby.

Then she took another step, to the old metal filing cabinet, her eyes had zeroed in on the faded tangerine branches of the limestone fingers. It sat there, proudly in the center front. And her fingers levitated to the coral on their own.

"You kept this?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder. The surprise and hope evident in her eyes.

He'd finished his shutting down and was leaning his hip on the edge of the desk, his arms cross comfortably across his chest. He nodded, large broad shoulders shrugging as he did. "And you kept this," he replied, unfolding his arm and showing her the little brown shell in his palm.

"It was all I had, we didn't even have a photo. That whole week, and I never took a single one."

"I looked for you, you know? I didn't even know your last name. I still don't."

"You looked for me?"

He nodded, blinking slowly and pushing off the desk, "Years ago. The resort wouldn't give me your details and your grandparents never returned my letter."

"They moved that winter," she said. He nodded once again.

"Come on, there's a café down near my place we can eat at."

It was automatic— a reflex to her proximity; he took her hand, holding it in his as he led her down the stairs. His fingers tingled from the current shifting between them. His chest full and ready to burst. She'd found him. He wouldn't have been able to let her go if she'd asked. But she didn't, she simply squeezed his hand harder, she too feeling the way his touch affected her as their palms converged. He was holding on tight. He wouldn't let her go again. He wouldn't let that happen for a second time.

…

He'd ridden his bike to work that morning and the Triumph was sitting just outside reception, under the awnings to protect the brown leather seat and panniers. He'd sold their two bikes, the ones she'd brought to him as she'd pined for the musician. The ones that they'd build together as teenagers, just like the life that'd built together as adults. They were all now purged from his life.

He used the money to help buy a place of his own, then bought the frame of the old classic. He'd worked so hard on restoring that old thing, scouring up and down the east coast to find all the original parts. It had been an escape of sorts for him, from the endless torment of waiting for her reply letter that would never come... Until now.

She had driven here as well, he assumed. Because, parked in the small lot out front was a faded red VW bus. He whistled, as he approached the combie, circling and itching to look inside and under the hood. "Is that the original paint?"

"I believe so," she said, coming to stand next to him as he hovered near the hood. "Her name is Ruby."

He laughed at that, she did seem like the type to name her cars.

The triumph's name was Sat`s, the Quileute word for Salmon. He couldn't think of the great fish without it reminding him of her. That color, forever more, belonging to that pretty woman from the reef.

"Do you want to take a look, Jake?" she asked, laughter in her own voice. She couldn't help but become infected with that beautiful laugh, it was contagious coupled with his beautiful smile. God how she'd missed his smile.

This was just how she'd imagined him. Working at his thriving business, dark blue drill uniform pulling over his broad shoulders, hard, work-worn hands delicately tinkering under the hood of some kind of classic as his scruffy dark hair, sat on the collar of his thick muscled neck.

This is how she'd tried to picture him. Living in the real word that is. In her mind was the image of his body; under the cotton of his t-shirt as it had pulled tight over his muscles; wet as they'd stood on the waves of Four Mile Beach; naked as he had moved above her. That was how she'd remembered him, but this here, now, this is how she'd pictured him. No matter what though— what always stayed the same, was the depth of those eyes. She'd get lost in those loving dark brown, almost black eyes. Even in her dreams. The real thing was even better.

"I think the latch is in the glove box," she added as he started to walk around to the driver's door. He just kept walking, jumping up and leaning across, his thick bronzed forearm using the wheel for support as he bent. She could see the outline of the muscles of his back and lats through his work shirt. There was a dull popping sound as the hood released.

She stood next to him as he looked at the bits and pieces of the engine. Checking the tightness of different bolts and making sure an assortment of cables where pushed in firmly. "Could do with a grease and oil change," he said, lifting the dip stick and showing her the motor oil on it. Like she had a clue what it should look like.

"Yeah, I haven't had it serviced since I left San Diego."

"Well I can service it tomorrow for you if you'd like," he said, standing upright and closing the hood, the bulk in his arms bunching as he took the weight and let it fall with just a soft thud. "Can you stay long enough… for that?"

The uncertainty in his eyes almost broke her.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "I'll be here long enough for that."

"San Diego, hey? Have you been traveling?"

"Researching. I've almost finished my thesis. I've been following the grey whale along its migration route, studying the way their eating habits change as they travel."

"Wow, so you're really like, a scientist," he said, not at all surprised and proud that she'd achieved her dream.

She nodded, "A biologist. And as soon as this research is done, I've got to really sit down and finish writing. See if I can get me this doctorate."

"You're gunna be a doctor?"

"Of Biology," she specified in reply. The small talk circling round.

They both had so much they wanted to say, neither of them really knew where to start.

"Yo, Jake," sang out a voice from the large door of the garage. They both turned to see another native man, his hair cropped short, leaning out from the roller door track, his hands filthy with grease. "I can't get that part for the 150 truck until tomorrow. Can you call the owner to tell 'em we need to keep it for another day?" There were a few more men conveniently now working closer to the front of the shop, all suddenly very busy with their heads down acting as if they'd not just been spying on the couple.

Jake cleared his throat, "Um, yeah. Sure Paul."

The short haired man stood up then, walking towards the vee-dub, "I can give her an appraisal if you want to make that phone call," he offered, a wolfish grin in his face as his eyes raked over her long legs in those short shorts.

"Ah, no. It's fine," she said, stepping back a little, her hand resting on the heady swell of muscle on Jacobs arm, stepping behind the man she'd come to see.

Jake sighed, Paul was such a prick sometimes. "Paul, meet Ness. Ness, meet Paul, my brother-in-law. Remember her Lahote? Rachel, your wife? My sister?"

"Alright, all right, I'm just playing with you chief."

"Its' nice to meet you Paul," Ness said holding out her hand. She'd seen the wink the man had given her before he started to rile his brother-in-law up.

Paul just held his up, greasy palms outwards, "rain check."

"Sure," she smiled back.

Paul turned back to Jake, "How about I make that phone call for you," he offered, a knowing look shared between friends.

"Thanks bro," he said and the two were left alone, back on the footpath again.

Jake clapped his hands together, the loud bang giving him the courage to push on. "So, how about we ride down to the beach and see what Joy's got on the special board today."

"On that? That's yours?" she enquired, pointing to his Sat`s with a beaming smile across her face.

"Built him myself," he said proudly as he took hold of the handlebars and threw his leg over.

She followed behind, her hands braced on the seat as she got on.

He kicked it over, the beast roaring to life on the quiet little street. Looking over his shoulder at her, he encouraged her to scoot closer. "Hold tight," he said, pulling her hand to his waist.

She moved in closer, her thighs pressing against his hips, her chest leaning into his back. "Never letting go," she said as she lent her cheek to his spine.

…

They sat out on the front deck of the local café. The only café in town, to be exact. He had the baked salmon, she had it grilled. Then they moved down to the sand, it was shelly and lined with large pieces of driftwood as that same sun sat on the horizon of that same ocean, only it was setting on this side of the world.

"You know I used to watch the sun rise pretty much every morning," she said, her thighs balled to her chest as she hugged her knees. "A silent prayer to you. I'd imagine you sitting somewhere just like this, watching it go down."

"I was. I still do. Every day."

They were silent then, nothing but the sounds of the waves crashing, the wind blowing, a peal call of an eagle up in the branches of a white pine up above them.

"Masen," she said suddenly, turning to look at his profile. He turned to meet her eyes, his brow creased in confusion. "My surname. It's Masen. With an E."

He shifted then, turning to face her, his knee coming across and tucking underneath the other leg. "How long are you staying for?"

"It depends on the whales. At least three weeks, maybe until April. I have to be in Alaska by June. I've got a boat lined up in this little Inuit town called Point Hope. I'm gunna be freezing my butt off on the Chukchi Sea for six weeks."

"But we have three weeks now? You can stay with me?"

"Only if you want me too," she said, unsure. She'd been dreaming of coming up the coast for months— years, if she was being honest; willing the pods to move faster the closer she'd gotten to the region. She'd put so much hope into finding him. So much of her soul had been adrift for so long. "I just live in the combie normally."

"NO," he said huskily, the fear of her leaving gripping him inside. "I want you to stay with me. Please stay with me Ness." His hand had raised up, smoothing over the line of her jaw then. His fingers wrapped behind her neck and under her hair. The other hand matched on the opposite side and he pulled her to him, kissing her like they'd both dreamed of doing for five long years.

Their mouths met in single strong press. Hard together as if to will their lips to fuse. They'd never have to be apart again if their lips were joined to each other's, he thought to himself. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him in further.

The sun set on the couple as they reunited, lips and mouth covering every inch of bare skin they could find. Hands groping and feeling. Her breast still just as pert as his hands had learn by heart so many years ago. Her skin as soft as his memory had recalled. His shoulders just as broad, his muscles just as exceptionally toned.

They moved in sync, pressed together in the shores of the Pacific as the sun disappeared below the horizon. Their bodies humming as one.

"Do you want get out of here," he asked a smile spreading across his face, his hands still twisted in her hair.

"Your place or mine?" breathless, her lips a flushed red pout from their salute.

"Mine," he answered resolutely, standing up fast and pulling her with him. His house was only a few yards away, and they pulsed along together as they walked.

…

He ignored the mess on his bedroom floor, clothes and socks and junk. Instead ushering her straight to the bed, pulling the covers back and laying her down beneath him.

She'd already started to pull at his shirt before the front door had even been closed and now it was his turn to replay that favor. She had a bra on this time. Her glorious curves held tight by white lace as his fingers expertly unlatched and disrobed.

He licked at her skin, savoring the salty rosemary tang. Licking under the curve of each breast, circling until his lips found the little pink surging peak of her swells. He sucked on one, hard, her moans of pleasure loud as he recalled all the practice they'd had on the shores of Port Douglas.

They didn't wait for more build up, half a decade had been enough. She opened her legs wide, and lined herself up, prompting him to engage.

With just his skin to hers, they came back together with rapture.

It was hard and fast, that first reuniting. The second much slower again.

.

He left the workshop unmanaged the next day, and the next. Calling on Paul and Quil to hold down the fort while they stayed in bed for three whole days. They only left to bathe and to eat.

"I have to actually do some whale observations while I'm here," she said on the third day. "You know, actually do some proper adult stuff that isn't just sex and more sex." She was seated naked on his lap, their hips still pressed together, still connected, his face buried somewhere between her breasts as his hands stayed gripped to her ass.

"And I probably should go check on my garage. Who knows what those clowns have done to it."

She laughed at that, kissing him heatedly as he looked up.

"I've fallen in love with you Jacob," she said, the words blowing into his mouth as their lips still touched.

"I fell in love with you on that little island, Ness, I should never have left you. Nothing's been right without you ever since."

"I know. I've been the same," she said kissing small feathery pecks over his face, his eyes, his brows, his cheeks and his jaw. "Never leave me again Jake," her soft pink lips dragging back and forth over a fine sprinkle of stubble until it reached his lips again.

"Never again, Ness. Never again. I got you for life, my sweet girl," his lips just skimming the edges of hers as he spoke, their life force flowing between.

Her tongue invaded his mouth as he pulled her closer to him, kissing passionately on the little blue sofa in his living room.

She felt him start to swell again inside of her, his need and arousal renewed. "We can be proper adults tomorrow," she conceded, lifting up her hips and crashing herself back onto him. A pleasured, drawn out 'ahhh,' from him, her reply.

…

They had three weeks together. The VW bus stayed parked in the small lot of the garage, apart from the quick test drive he took it on after he'd changed the oil that is.

She went out on fishing boats early in the mornings, and he would go into the work shop then, too. Both arriving back to his home, falling into each other arms by sunset.

That first week of April came far too soon. He helped her with her duffle bag. Fighting back the tears, she climbed into the driver seat.

He took her by the hand, placing a hard scratchy object in it. The coral piece, washed and bright, blazing on her palm.

"Someone very special gave that to me," he said. "You make sure you bring it back."

"I will," she smiled. Pulling him in for a deep throated kiss. "I'll call you when I get to Kodiak Island."

"You do that my love," he smiled.

"I love you, Jake."

"Love you too, Nessie. Be safe out there."

"Always," she smiled, before starting the engine and backing out the lot.

…

Almost four months later, he was holding her hair as she emptied the contents of her dinner at this year's big salmon bake down the toilet.

Her trip to Alaska had been successful. Satisfied with all the data she'd collected, she returned to him. She was ready to spend the next several months creating a thesis for submission, her body already creating a life of its own.

Initially, she'd just thought it was sea sickness, the choppy waves rough on the Arctic Ocean, but as the weeks progressed and her breasts started to swell, the pack of tampons still unopened and unrequired for the second month in a row, she delivered some exceptional news via Skype.

He'd begged and pleaded for her to come back straightway. But she stayed four more weeks, observing the whales as they'd fed.

…

When she was done heaving, she sat back on the cool tile of his bathroom. Their bathroom, he'd been insisting she call it. She liked that idea. They'd had a lovely day down at the community center, the town coming alive for the festival. Most of the tribe getting to know the newcomer better, happy for Jake and his mate. They'd watched dancing and songs, he'd played softball with his friends in the charity comp, the night ending with a cascade of fireworks over the marina.

She'd been tired, ready for bed early and he'd carried her home in his arms. She carried a foil parcel of smoked fish uneaten by the tourists that his father had packaged for them.

He lay her on the bed, pulling off her shoes, before sliding in next to her and shuffling down. He place his head on her belly, a small hard ball now starting to form underneath.

"Are you being good in there, baby?" said, his voice buzzing against her skin as she weaved her fingers through his glossy straight hair. "You're growing so much, aren't you? Poor mommy's so tired now." Then he lifted up, circling a warm palm over her stomach, kissing her belly button, saying, "I love you," before shifting up to her face and kissing her lips, "I love you, too," he said with a smile.

She opened her eyes, and smiled up at him. Her heart tight for the love she felt for this man. "I love you, too. So much. So, so, much," she said before turning on her side, her head nestled into his chest and falling into a heavy sleep.

This was a life that she wanted, quiet and simple, in love… and together.

Her dreams now no longer filled with hopeful memories and desperate desires, now they were simply recalling the events of her perfect days.

…

Her back had been killing her since lunch. She'd sat at the desk all day, forcing herself to proof read the thesis one last time before she posted it off tomorrow. She'd been determined to get it done before the baby came. Jake had converted the second bedroom into a study for her and now that she was done, they were going to convert it back. Into a nursery, to be exact.

He'd arrived home early that afternoon. Pulling her into a long passionate kiss and making love to her, and her swollen tummy on the tapestry rug that the woman, Sue, who was like a mother to him, had woven for their home.

When they were satisfied, they walked hand in hand down to the water's edge, rugged up in their winter clothes, with one glove off so their hands could be touching.

He found a large driftwood trunk and shifted it in the sand for her so she could rest. She waddled over and sat, her eyes squinting into the setting sun.

He stayed standing, hovering over her and watching as the fading light lit up her beautiful face. Her skin was still smooth, like polished marble, the radiance highlighting the arch of her brow, the fine line of her jaw, and the full pout of her lips. She was truly beautiful. Now glowing from within.

"Every time I look out at that ocean, Ness, and see the sun setting, I think of you, my love. How it's the same sun, on the same ocean, that we were watching rise over there."

She could hear the tears threatening in his voice.

"And I'll be watching, every time it rises, beautiful girl. Knowing that you're waking up next to me. We're waking up together, to another beautiful day in our life. However it goes Ness, I will always remember that. I'll always love you. For the rest of our days, I'll love you."

Then he lowered down on to the sand, his knees getting wet through his pants. He took her ungloved hand and placed a smooth round object into it.

She opened her palm to see a gold ring, a precious red coral gemstone polished to a shine at its center. "Will you marry me Renesmee Masen? And then you can change your name to Black so I'll never lose you again."

She laughed a small huff at him, tears blooming in her eyes, as she nodded. Then, she kissed him in a way he'd only ever been kissed once before. With soul and passion…and love.

After a moment or two he slid the ring on and came up to sit beside her, he wrapped her up in his arms, he liked the way she fitted into his frame. He listened to the most heartening sound he could imagine, her contented sigh as his lips kissed the side of her head "I love you Jake, forever my love. Forever."

He watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, somewhere on the other side of the pacific it was rising for someone else. Then he made a point to remember this scene, never wanting to forget.

Them.

...

Well that's that. A short little story. Love lost and found once again.

Are you glad I didn't make it a one shot? I'm a sucker for happy endings. So too is my Beta—thanks for the time you spend on me L.

If you want something a little steamier, check out Egratia's latest, called Experiments. (Add this type to the end of: fanfiction . net s/10859755/1/Experiments)

But first, leave a comment here—of course. Good or bad, I don't know what you like if you don't tell me.

Thank you for reading, MarinaNamaste.

PS- my profile page has a link to the ring he gave her, if you're interested in that kind of thing ;-)