Epilogue
BOONE
It’s a frosty February evening as I park outside Peak Sweets, my pulse quickening with anticipation. I can’t wait to see my wife. I miss her like crazy when we’re both at work—she’s on my mind non-stop in the forest, and I wish I could spend every second of the day by her side. But I know how happy the candy store makes her. Peak Sweets is her passion, and the store is thriving—especially with Valentine’s Day coming up.
It’s been almost two years since I proposed to Rosalie. The day after she agreed to marry me, we came clean to Grandpa about our fake relationship. It was the right thing to do, and I know the deception had been weighing on both our minds. The old man wasn’t happy that he’d been fooled, but his irritation quickly turned to delight when we explained that what started as fake dating was now the real thing. When he saw the ring on Rosalie’s finger, he agreed that I’d fulfilled the terms of the will and finally gave me the inheritance.
Once the money was in my account, I immediately offered the asking price for Rosalie’s building, which her landlord accepted. It was a quick sale, and now my wife has full control over her store without having to worry about paying rent. Hell, she doesn’t need to worry about anything. Grandma’s generous bequest means she never has to work again. But I know she’d never leave Peak Sweets, and it warms my heart to know she’s found her calling. Plus, being married to a candy store owner definitely has its perks—Rosalie is always bringing home chocolate and candy for us to share, and I’ve developed a pretty serious sweet tooth ever since we got together.
Grandma’s money also helped me grow my lumber business. With the land she left me, along with the cash, I’ve been able to invest in planting more trees and employing lumberjacks from around Hope Peak, just like I always wanted. I enjoy my work, and the business is expanding more and more each year, but my wife will always come first. I recently hired a couple of extra employees to oversee things so I can spend more time with Rosalie, and I’ll always be grateful to my grandma for making it all possible.
Life is good.
And with Rosalie by my side, it just keeps on getting better.
Grinning to myself, I get out of my truck and head to Peak Sweets, admiring the pink hearts and flowers in the window. Valentine’s Day used to drive me nuts, but now it always brings a smile to my face. It reminds me of how I met Rosalie, and the magical day when she agreed to be my wife.
The day she agreed to make me the luckiest, happiest man in the whole damn world.
I open the door to the store and immediately spot Rosalie in the corner, stacking chocolate boxes. My eyes rest on her belly, the bump just beginning to show beneath her sweater, and my heart skips a beat when I look at it. My wife is four-months pregnant, and I still can’t believe we’re going to be parents. It hits me all over again every time I look at her, and my protective instincts kick into overdrive as Rosalie turns to me with a smile, one hand resting on her bump.
“Hi there,” she says, her eyes glinting mischievously. “What can I get for you?”
I go along with the charade. “I’m looking to buy my wife some chocolate for Valentine’s Day. Any recommendations?”
Rosalie pretends to look thoughtful before pointing to a stack of purple boxes just behind me. “I’m sure she’d love a box of those.”
I grab one. “What else? I want to spoil her.”
Rosalie’s cheeks pinken, and she suppresses a smile as she points toward a shelf full of her favorite candies. “These are always popular.”
We continue the back-and-forth for a while until my hands are bulging with candy and chocolate.
“I’m sure your wife will be more than happy with all that,” Rosalie says, giggling as she twirls a lock of pink hair around her finger.
“I was thinking of getting her some flowers, too. Do you think she’d prefer pink roses or pink peonies?”
“Pink roses.” She smiles at me. “Classic.”
“I was also planning to make a reservation some place for dinner. Do you think she’d prefer French or Italian food?”
“I’m guessing she’s in the mood for Italian. All women love spaghetti—that’s a fact.”
My lips twitch as I set all the treats on the counter and pay with my card. “Thank you,” I tell her. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“Your wife sounds like a very lucky woman,” Rosalie says, her brown eyes shining. “But there’s one more thing she might like.”
“I’ll get her anything she wants.”
She bites her lip, her teeth nibbling at the plump flesh. “Well, it’s something a lot of girls like on Valentine’s Day. Something only their husbands can provide.”
Her eyes flicker down my body, then back up to my face, and I feel my cock stir, blood rushing downward.
“We’re leaving,” I tell her. “Now.”
Rosalie grins at me. “Okay, but first I just need to?—”
“No buts. I’m taking you home and giving you your first Valentine’s Day present early.”
Before she can protest, I scoop my wife into my arms, turn off the lights, and head outside. I lock up behind us and set her down on the passenger seat of my truck before I jump into the driver’s side and floor it toward our cabin. Desire pumps through me, raw need turning me wild as I steal glances at my wife—her thick curves, that pretty little angel face.
“What’s the hurry?” she asks teasingly. “Was it something I said?”
“You better wipe that smile off your face, sugar.”
“Make me.”
A growl rises in my throat. Rosalie knows how to drive me crazy, and when the truck skids to a halt outside our cabin, she barely has time to take off her seatbelt before I’m carrying her inside, through the living room and into our bedroom.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” I tell her, breathing hard as I lay her down on the bed, tearing at her clothes.
“Me too, Boone.” Rosalie isn’t smiling anymore. Her face is pained as she says, “I’m aching for you.”
“Don’t worry, sugar. I can fix that.”
With urgent hands, I toss aside her sweater, her bra, pulling and tugging at every layer until she’s naked beneath me. My wife’s body still takes my breath away. She’s curvier than ever now she’s pregnant, and I run my hands over her wide hips, her soft waist, my cock straining against my boxers.
Rosalie and I spend a lot of time in bed together. I can’t keep my hands off my beautiful wife, and some days, we take things slowly, making love, exploring every inch of each other. But when we’ve been apart all day—her at Peak Sweets and me in the woods—things feel too desperate, too urgent to take our time. It’s a primal need that overwhelms us both, and I impatiently strip off my own clothes, longing to be inside my beautiful wife.
I push Rosalie’s legs apart, lining my hard cock up with her dripping core, thrusting inside with a deep groan of relief.
Fuck, yes.
“Oh, Boone,” Rosalie moans, tipping her head back. “Please…I need you.”
She doesn’t need to say another word. Her pussy grips my cock like a vise as I start to fuck her hard, rutting her like an animal until she’s panting for breath. Her plump tits bounce with every thrust, her hands grabbing wildly at the sheets as I pound her into the mattress, savoring her whimpers of pleasure.
“Fuck, sugar, that’s it. You’re such a good girl.”
She shudders at the praise, wrapping her arms around my neck as she bucks her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. Our rhythm is brutal—relentless—and the sounds of our bodies slapping together fill the room, the bed groaning as I fuck my wife, my eyes never leaving hers.
“Boone! Oh, Boone, I’m gonna come!”
My balls tighten at her words, my cock throbbing, pleasure rushing to the surface as Rosalie claws at my back. Her legs tremble. Her tight hole throbs around me, squeezing me, and I lean down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She sobs against my mouth as she comes, and I push my tongue between her lips, groaning at her sweetness. I kiss her harder, my mouth hungry as she trembles against me. I feel my orgasm growing. My rhythm turns jerky, and I let out a strangled cry, groaning against Rosalie’s soft lips as my cock explodes inside her.
My girl.
My wife.
Mine.
I fill her with my cum, holding her tight as we both catch our breath. As we slowly come back to ourselves, I absent-mindedly rub her belly, pressing kisses on her cheeks, her nose, her chin, every part of her I can reach.
“Feel better now, sugar?”
She beams at me, her eyes still dazed from her orgasm. “Much better.”
“Me too.”
I smile at her, kissing her soft lips, my heart soaring inside me. I can’t believe I get to call this perfect woman my wife. It still feels surreal, even now. Hell, it will probably still feel surreal in thirty years.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Rosalie says, snuggling up to me with a sigh of contentment, “the wedding invitation arrived in the mail this morning, after you left for work.”
“Good. Was starting to think the old man hadn’t invited us.”
Rosalie chortles. “Of course he did. And personally, I can’t wait to see you in a tux again. You’ll be the handsomest best man in the world.”
It was a hell of a shock when Grandpa told us about Dorothea, but apparently, the two of them hit it off straight away after meeting at a local charity event. I never imagined the old man would get married again, but I’m thrilled that he’s found happiness after Grandma’s passing. I never liked the thought of him being all alone in that enormous mansion, and now he has somebody to share his golden years with.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I say eventually, “but you sure as hell won the prize for the most beautiful bride in the world. I almost fell over when I saw you walking up the aisle.”
Rosalie giggles. “You’re pretty charming for a grump, you know that?”
“Only for you, sugar.”
She looks at me for a long time. It’s a look that never fails to make my heart stutter—her eyes are full of love, and her pretty pink lips are curved into the dreamiest smile.
“I love you, Boone,” she says. “For real.”
For real.
It’s something we say sometimes, a reminder of the crazy circumstances that brought us together, and it makes me smile. When I met Rosalie, I was just trying to claim an inheritance. But I ended up finding something worth more than any inheritance in the world. I found the love of my life.
“I love you too, Rosalie,” I tell her. “For real and forever.”
And I always will.