Epilogue
Years later
“I think it’s perfect, don’t you?”
Whip wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and studied the huge chainsaw-sculpted wooden statue of bigfoot Angel had commissioned and put in the corner of The Cellar. It was almost seven feet tall and heavy as fuck. But even he had to admit it was pretty damn cool.
They’d met the artist at the pool hall this morning and helped him wheel it into the bar.
He’d left just moments ago, and Whip and Angel were still admiring their newest addition.
Bigfoot had been a “thing” in Fallport ever since an episode of a stupid reality show had been filmed here.
The town embraced the episode’s bigfoot theme, and ever since, tourists had flocked to the area in the summer hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive creature.
The years had been good for business. The Cellar was thriving…and thanks to his Angel’s influence, it had an entirely different clientele.
No longer was it full of questionable types at all hours of the night and early morning. Fallportians no longer avoided patronizing his business, and when the police chief stopped by, it was to have a beer, instead of to bust his chops like he used to.
Angel had also convinced him to open at three in the afternoon, so local kids had a place to hang out after school. It became adult-only again at six, but it gave some kids a safe place to go after school before their parents got out of work.
He’d even added some more pool tables and a few dartboards and even a fucking ax-throwing station.
While the darts were free, people paid out the nose to throw a few axes.
It shocked Whip that customers liked doing that shit, but the extra revenue was a huge bonus.
He did close down that activity at ten, however; alcohol and axes weren’t a good combination.
Angel still worked behind the bar. She’d become the best bartender Whip had ever had.
She didn’t put up with people’s shit, and if she thought they’d had enough, she had no problem cutting them off.
But he never let down his guard and kept an eye on her at all times…
just in case some jackass didn’t get the clue that she was off limits.
Way off limits.
“Whip? It’s perfect, right?”
Turning his attention to his wife, he nodded. “It is, Angel. You were right. As usual.”
“Of course I was,” Angel said with a carefree laugh. One Whip loved hearing. She’d spent so much of her life walking on eggshells and trying to fade into the background to protect herself, seeing her spread her wings and be the amazing human being she was meant to be did his heart a world of good.
She turned in his embrace and put her hands on his chest as she smiled at him. “Can we talk about Pickleport?”
Whip groaned. “This again?”
“I know, but it’s coming up soon, and Lilly and Khloe still need volunteers to judge the bigfoot-call contest and the pie-eating competition.”
“Angel, I love you more than anything, and I’d give you the world, but there’s no fucking way I’m going to have anything to do with that ridiculous festival. I don’t even fucking like pickles!”
She giggled, and the sound vibrated through Whip’s body. Damn, he loved it. Loved her.
“Even if I said please?”
Whip sighed. “You know if you beg me enough I’ll give in. But I’d hate every second of it and make everyone around me miserable and nervous. More so than usual, that is.”
She sobered. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“I’m more than happy to sponsor the damn thing. Have our banner on the table where the competitors sit to stuff their faces with pie. But I have to draw a line at,” he shuddered dramatically, “socializing.”
Her smile returned. “Okay, honey. I’ll tell Lilly and Khloe they’ll have to find someone else.”
“Thank you. Are we all set for the adoption booth?” he asked.
“Yes! The rescue group is going to bring six cats and four dogs in the hopes they can get more eyes on them and get them all adopted.”
Whip nodded in satisfaction. He and Angel had donated a shit-ton of money to the no-kill rescue in town, and he loved seeing the animals find new and loving homes.
His life was nothing like he thought it would be.
And it was all because of the woman who somehow saw beyond his asshole-ness enough to love him.
He was…dare he say it….happy. He’d never be the kind of man who hung out with “the guys” and shot the shit.
He still didn’t like most people, preferred cats to anyone or anything on earth except for his wife, and had no problem hurting anyone who dared lay a hand on a woman or animal.
But Angel had definitely smoothed out his rough edges.
She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, and Whip recognized the look in her eyes before she even opened her mouth.
“It’s still early, we have a few hours before we need to be back here to open for the kids. I love that even though school is out, you agreed to open The Cellar at noon for kids to hang out.”
It hadn’t taken much for Angel to convince him to open the place up to the local kids for the summer.
Kept them out of trouble, if nothing else.
But at the moment, he didn’t give a shit about any of that.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked, knowing full well what she wanted. The desire in her eyes gave her away.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a nap…”
Whip didn’t hesitate to grab his wife’s hand and lead her toward the door. They had inventory that needed to get done, he needed to call Clyde and get some more moonshine, and he had paperwork to do, but nothing was more important than spending time with his wife.
Their sex life got better the older they became. He didn’t know how that was possible, but he would never pass up a chance to get naked with Angel.
She giggled when she had to kind of jog to keep up with him. “I guess you think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s a fucking awesome idea,” Whip agreed.
His wife was everything he’d never known he wanted.
She didn’t care that he was grouchy, that he preferred cats to people, and that his idea of the perfect vacation was holing up in a cabin in the woods.
Or a hotel that offered room service, so he never had to go out and talk to anyone.
She was his match in every way, and he thanked his lucky stars that he hadn’t had to kill her fucking husband all those years ago.
Not because he was squeamish about doing something like that, but because it could’ve possibly taken him away from her.
And not having Angel by his side all day, and sleeping next to him every night, would be physically painful.
She smiled all the way back to their house, and it always amazed Whip how cheerful and happy she seemed to be. She’d been dealt a shitty hand when it came to her first husband, but his abuse never dimmed her inner light. It was a testament to how strong and resilient she was.
He pulled into the garage and she met him at the door to the house.
They were greeted by their three cats, Kevin, Simba, and Luna.
They were all much older now, and they spent their days and nights sleeping in the approximately ten thousand boxes and beds around the house.
But they never failed to get up to greet them when they came home.
Mostly because they knew Angel would give them treats… but still.
After the cats were fussed over and given their treats, Whip wrapped his arms around his wife from behind and leaned down to nuzzle the side of her neck. “Where’s my treat?”
Angel giggled and turned in his embrace. Her hands rested on his chest as she tilted her head back to look at him. “It’s my turn,” she said, as sternly as she could.
It was his turn to chuckle. “Sure, Angel. Whatever you want.”
She rolled her eyes. “See, you say that, but as soon as I get on my knees and get you in my mouth, you take over and throw me on the bed.”
“Are you seriously complaining about me going down on you before fucking your brains out?”
She huffed out a breath. “Yes! Because I want to make you feel good too.”
Whip stared at her in disbelief. “Are you fucking joking?”
“Um…no?”
“Angel, standing with you in this kitchen makes me feel good. Watching you with our fur babies makes me feel good. Waking up next to you makes me feel good. Providing for you, watching you laugh with the customers, seeing you interact with your friends and hearing their kids call you ‘Aunt Angel’ makes me feel good. Fuck, seeing you breathe makes me feel so damn good it’s not even funny.
If you think I don’t love the hell out of seeing how aroused you get with my mouth on your clit and my finger fucking you while I eat you out, that’s a crime.
Have no doubt that I could feel good and be perfectly happy never having another fucking orgasm in my life, as long as I could pleasure you. ”
“Whip,” she whispered, clearly overwhelmed.
“You want to suck me off, I have no problem with that. But you don’t like the taste, and that’s fine. I prefer to come in your pussy than your mouth anyway.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s—”
Whip put his finger over her lips, shutting her up. “If you think I give the smallest shit that it’s not your thing, you’re wrong.”
“I just don’t ever want you to think that I’m taking and not giving as much in bed.”
Whip laughed, but he sobered quickly at the serious look on her face.
“You give me everything. It’s a privilege just to be with you.
To have you in my bed. For you to wear my ring.
Sex isn’t a tit-for-tat kind of thing, Angel.
We do what feels good and what we like. For me, that’s giving you orgasms. Watching you come apart in my arms. Eating you out. Fucking you until you beg for mercy.”
She squirmed in his embrace.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Okay,” she confirmed.
“Fuck. Can’t believe we had to have that conversation, but at the same time, I’m pissed because that was probably rattling around in your head for way too fucking long. You have a concern, you talk to me about it. We clear the air. Got it?”
“Yeah, Whip. I got it.”
“Good. Just because of that, my treat is gonna be seeing how many times I can make you come with my hand and mouth before making love to you so hard, you’re gonna be sore as fuck tonight while you’re serving the assholes who come into the bar.”
Angel grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
“Fucking hell,” Whip swore, then put his hands on her waist. “Up, Angel.”
She gave a little hop, then she was in his arms with her legs around his waist. He carried her out of the kitchen toward their room. It had been a while since they’d had a marathon sex session, and he couldn’t wait.
Two hours later, Angel was boneless on top of him.
He’d worked her hard, and she’d taken everything he’d given her with a passion that made him feel as if he was on top of the world.
They were both sweaty, and she wouldn’t be the only one who was sore tonight.
He wasn’t getting any younger, and sexual sessions like this took their toll on him as much as they did her.
He smiled as he held her while she snored into his neck.
Looking at the time that was projected onto the ceiling—from a clock Angel had purchased, which he’d scoffed at when he’d first seen it, but now loved because he didn’t have to do anything more than open his eyes to see what time it was—Whip sighed in contentment.
They had another hour before they needed to get up and get ready to go into work.
He never thought he’d be as content as he was to live in a sleepy little tourist town, but with his Angel by his side, he could live anywhere in the world.
“Love you,” he whispered. He didn’t say the words nearly as much as he should, but he was feeling especially mushy at the moment.
“Love you too.”
Whip smiled. He’d thought Angel was asleep.
She sighed in contentment, her breath wafting over his neck and chest. And as he did every day, Whip mentally vowed to love her with everything he had.
To protect her with his life if need be.
She was his everything. His better half.
He was the man he was today because of her.
He’d always be an asshole, but not to her. Never to her.
Closing his eyes, Whip dozed off, content with the knowledge that his woman was safe, happy, and satiated. It was more than enough.