Wild as Her (Beckett Family #2)

Epilogue

Wild

“ W ild, I don’t want a damn cat,” Indie complains as I drag her from our bedroom into the living room from her late afternoon nap. I’ve never seen anyone love sleep as much as she does.

“You got quite an attitude… I’m gonna have to take you back in there and fuck it outta you, ain’t I, Indiana?”

“Good luck with that, Wilder ,” she snaps back with an arched brow, her wild bedhead taking my mind to all kinds of places, especially when she has these little sleep shorts on.

I run my tongue over my teeth, debating my next move.

“Why don’t you want a cat?” I ask, pulling her in close to me, deciding to keep my focus where I need it right now.

Her little attitude is turning me on, but I need to remember the goal here. No matter how much I love playing with fire.

“I just don’t like ‘em,” she shrugs with her rising temper in full force.

She always wakes up cranky, but I know just how to get her past it.

I lean in to whisper in her ear. “Only want me playin’ with your pussy, Wildflower?”

“You’re an idiot,” she laughs, pushing at my chest.

Reaching over to the coffee table, I hit play on my phone. The music fills the space in the room, and Indie wraps her arms around my waist—slowly swaying her hips with mine as her head rests on my chest.

Running my hand over my crabby girl’s hair, I feel her start to relax. A few seconds later, she releases me and turns to reach over and pop a piece of candy from the bowl into her mouth. Her face softens from the sweetness of the candy, her attitude coming back down to a normal level.

“Fine. A dog,” I compromise, taking her hand and spinning her around our living room dance floor.

She stops moving and lets out a sigh.

“I can deal with a dog,” she relents.

Jackpot. That was my goal anyway.

“Good, now go sit down while I finish makin’ our dinner.”

“I can help,” she cuts in.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely not. Sit your fine ass down before I have to spank it.” I point to the couch, waiting to see which path we will be going on this time. I might have fucked her a couple of hours ago, but I’m always ready to go again with her.

She raises an auburn eyebrow in challenge. “You think I’m scared of you?”

God, I love her fire—live for it.

Right now, she’s testing, pushing to see if she can get me to break and jump straight to dessert— her .

“Sit,” I say, pointing to the couch, biting back a laugh. “See, I’m gonna be a good dog dad.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a damn dog, Wilder Beckett.” She looks less than impressed, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Ohh, full name, huh? Am I in trouble, Indiana?” I wrap my hands around her waist.

An uncontrolled smile lights her face as she pulls back and plops down on the couch, propping her feet up onto the coffee table in front of her.

“Not if you’re a good boy and make me dinner,” she says with a smirk.

“Yes, ma’am.” I bend to kiss her cheek and walk to the kitchen.

We’ve been together for a few months, and I’ve been planning this for a while now. Everything has to go according to plan.

Phase one is now complete.

As we sit in the waiting area to finish up the last of the paperwork for the dog we adopted, my eyes keep jumping to the glass door that houses the room full of kittens—their little paws scratching at the metal bars that cage them.

I hop up and walk into the room—Indie follows behind me, mumbling under her breath.

“Wild, we are not gettin’ a cat,” she reminds me in a serious tone as I pop the door open on the kennel.

“I know, I know,” I say, rubbing my hand over the black and white kitten’s back and picking it up.

“Sorry, little lady. The missus says no,” I tell it.

The kitten reaches up and bats at me, causing me to bleed.

“Ouch!” I pull my hand back and inspect the damage. “She’s as feisty as you!”

Indie cackles, throwing her head back. “Okay, maybe we can get that one.”

“Very funny,” I deadpan, causing Indie to laugh even harder.

“Laugh it up, buttercup. We’ll see who’s laughin’ tonight.”

I open the kennel door again and place the kitten back inside onto the cold metal flooring. Two women in the house with that temperament is one too many for my liking.

I close the kennel door and walk back out to wait for my new furry friend.

As I sit in the hard plastic chair, Mary, the worker who has been helping us today, comes out of the back door, leash in hand. When she passes the counter, I see the older brown dog trotting along happily. He’s some kind of Heinz 57—a mix of twelve different breeds; I’m not sure what.

When I walked by the large gated kennel and spotted that dog that I helped rescue all those months ago from the tree, I knew two things. One, that he was trouble. And two, that he was coming home with us.

Phase two, complete.

Coming to a stop in the empty dirt parking lot, I put the Bronco in park and turn the key. When I open my door, the sounds of the rushing river flood in. It’s early spring and still too soon to jump into the water, unfortunately. But this had to be the place I brought her for this—the place we first met all those years ago.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna just go eat at home or maybe in a restaurant?” Indie asks, pulling a light jacket over her shoulders.

“Yup. I’m sure.” I hop out and wait for our new dog, Remington, to follow me out before shutting the door.

Indie reaches to grab the blanket and basket of food from the back seat. Making sure I’m not seen, I quickly bend down and tie the solitaire diamond ring onto the loop of Remi’s collar.

“Don’t let me down, man. This is our first family bondin’ moment. Her answer will rely on how cute you look doin’ this just as much as me askin’. Capeesh?” I ruffle the top of the dog’s head as his tongue hangs carelessly to the side.

When we pass the large bushes and get to the bend of the river, I spread the blanket out over the grassy area where I first held her hand. Indie sits beside me, opening the basket to start making our food.

“Wait,” I place my hand over hers, stopping her movement. “Before you do that, I need to talk to you about somethin’.”

Her auburn brows pull together as she looks at me in confusion.

“What did you do now?” she asks.

“Nothin’,” I laugh, pulling her hands into mine. “I have somethin’ for you.” I reach into my pocket and grab the little slip of paper into my closed fist.

Her face goes from confused to what I hope is excited the moment she realizes what’s happening.

Hesitantly, Indie holds her hand out, waiting for me to drop what I have for her. My closed fist hovers over her palm briefly before I drop the paper with those two little words I’ve been dying to ask her.

“Don’t open that yet.” I hold up a finger and holler over my shoulder, “Remi, come here.”

When I don’t see him, I glance around the trees— and in them —but still see nothing. I whistle loudly, and still nothing.

That damn dog.

I holler again just in time to hear a loud splash come from behind me. Turning, I spot the little bastard making his way to the other side of the river.

“Dammit. I had this all planned out…” I huff, running my hand through my hair. “If that little shit lost your ring…” I trail off, shaking my head.

Indie is rolling in a fit of giggles on the blanket beside me.

“It’s perfect,” she says, wiping the happy tears from her eyes.

Goddamn, she’s beautiful.

No, she’s more than that. She’s perfect.

Her wild, crazy hair, those pouty pink lips, an attitude that keeps me on my toes, a heart of fucking gold, and she brings me all the joy one man needs in his life—she’s everything to me.

Taking a final deep breath, she stops laughing and smiles over at me as I sit beside her, feeling discouraged because this damn dog is ruining what I’ve been planning all month long. I would have done it sooner, but this is the first time our schedules have lined up. Whenever we’re not at work, Ind seems to be doing something to help out Megan at her traveling clinic. The two have formed a good friendship over the last few months, and Indie really loves doing all she can to help raise money and spread the word about the clinic.

Indie studies me for a beat as I watch the dog make his way back out of the water and trot toward us.

“Will you marry me, Wild?” she asks in a soft voice from beside me, toying with the paper in her hands.

My eyes zone in on her, caught off guard.

“What? You ain’t supposed to ask. Did you read it?” I point to the folded slip of paper between her fingers.

“No.” She smiles, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Well, I was gonna ask!”

“Yeah, well, tough shit.” She smiles bigger.

So she wants to play it that way, huh?

“Indie, will you marry me ?”

“I asked first.”

“I asked second.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You love it.”

Her expression shifts, her eyes growing heavy as she pulls the corner of her lip in between her teeth.

“Be quiet, Wild,” she says in almost a whisper.

Leaning in, I meet her stare. “Make me.”

Our mouths, like the magnets they are, draw to each other. I’ll never get enough of this woman and her sweet taste.

With all the strength I can gather, I pull back from her and look into her beautiful golden-brown eyes.

“So, are you gonna marry me or what?” I ask again.

I can see her trying to think of some smart-ass remark, and I’m ready for it—I’ll never get tired of the back-and-forth with her.

“Yeah,” she answers softly, barely nodding her head, a faint smile still gracing her face.

“Yeah?” I echo, surprised that it was so easy.

She leans in and kisses me again. “Yes.”

A surge of excitement rushes into me.

“Hot damn. C’mon,” I say, standing and pulling her up behind me.

I quickly gather the basket and blanket into one hand and grab hers with the other before I start jogging toward the Bronco.

“Where are we goin’?” she asks as I about pull her arm out of the socket, dragging her along behind me.

“I ain’t dumb. We’re makin’ this official before you go and change your mind.”

She laughs that laugh that tells me her head went back, exposing her gorgeous neck.

But I’m not joking.

“Wild, what are you talkin’ about? We can’t get married right this second .”

“Who the hell said?” I arch my brow, turning to face her over my shoulder.

“Remington, come,” I holler, remembering we have a dog now. His ears perk up, and he runs toward us.

“I need my dad and aunt here. I need my best friends. And I’m sure Cal and Carson would kill you if you got married without them there.”

“Carson’s a dick and doesn’t give two shits. And Cal did the same thing. He gets it,” I shrug. “Besides, I’m fuckin’ my wife tonight. We can still have a wedding, but I’m takin’ you to the courthouse right now and makin’ you mine. You’re never gettin’ away from me again.”

“Okay, that’s not creepy at all,” she laughs.

I stop walking and face her. “I’m just tellin’ it like it is, Wildflower… Please agree.”

I release her hand and tuck the stray hairs back from her face. “Please do this for me. I swear we can have a wedding whenever you want—tomorrow even. I just have to have you as my wife right now . I’ve waited long enough. I can’t go another damn day.”

“We got engaged one minute ago…”

Reaching out, I take her soft hand in mine again. “I’ve wanted you to be mine since we were eighteen years old. I’ve been waitin’ a helluva lot longer than a minute.”

She thinks for a few seconds, biting at her lip. Finally, she nods in agreement. “Fine. But we ain’t tellin’ anyone,” she holds up a finger. “They’ll think we’re just engaged. Deal?” She raises her brow at me, keeping her finger high.

“Fine…” I respond too quickly.

Like fuck am I keeping that deal. I’m going to shout it from the damn rooftop of the courthouse as soon as we walk out of that place.

“If you break this promise, I won’t speak to you for a whole week.”

“Only a week?” I lift a brow as I open the back hatch and toss the items inside the Bronco.

“ Wild… ” Her eyes narrow in warning as the breeze pulls her hair back out from behind her ear.

“I think I can live with that,” I admit, pulling her to my side. “I’m sure I can find some tricks to make you talk to me.” I playfully pinch her ass, and she swats at my hand.

“You’re impossible,” she laughs.

Leaning in, I kiss the top of her head, and the grip she has around my side tightens just as Remington comes up to us.

Bending down, I grab the ring from the collar of the soaking-wet dog. Taking her hand, I slide the diamond down the finger that connects straight to her heart. A smile fills both of our faces at the perfect fit.

Pulling her hand up to my lips, I lightly kiss her knuckles.

“I need everyone to know you’re mine… Mrs. Beckett.”

A glowing smile covers her face. “A new nickname… I like it,” she beams, pressing her sweet lips to mine again.

Phase three, complete.

Now all that’s left is the fourth and final phase—make her mine for the rest of our lives.