Epilogue
OPERATION TRY, TRY, AND TRY
DYLAN
I’m losing my mind, and it’s the best kind of losing it.
Dahlia is sprawled across my bed in Malibu, sunlight striping her bare back like tiger marks, and she’s laughing at me because I literally just sprinted from the bathroom with a towel still around my waist, tripped over my own sneakers, and face-planted next to her.
“Graceful.” She laughs, propping her chin on her hands. “Ten out of ten. Very impressed.”
“Thank you very much,” I say into the duvet, then roll over and yank the towel off because who has time for modesty when we are officially off birth control and ready to make a human?
It hasn’t been long since the kayak discussion, and I have not pushed at all. I could tell she was thinking about it a lot, so I wasn’t surprised when she said she wanted to go for it.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment since you said the words ‘I’m off the pill.’ I have bluer than blue balls.”
She snorts. “That’s been exactly twenty-two minutes.”
“Twenty-two minutes is a lifetime when your sperm are doing The Running Man in your nuts, Dahlia.”
She’s laughing as she crawls over me, hair everywhere, smelling like that delicious perfume that makes me stupid. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”
I kiss her, and I’m so excited I’m practically vibrating. I flip her on her back, loving the sound of her gasp, and I slide into her. It’s heaven, absolute heaven, and I last approximately six seconds. Maybe seven.
If I were a bull rider, I would not have scored.
I freeze, buried to the hilt, and whisper, “Oh no.”
Dahlia blinks up at me. “Did you just—”
“Yep.”
“Already?”
“Like a world-record already.” I drop my forehead to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. That was…embarrassingly fast. That was ‘teenager discovering masturbation for the first time’ fast.”
She starts laughing, silent at first, shoulders shaking, then loud, head thrown back, the whole bed rocking.
I groan and roll off her, throwing an arm over my face.
“We have to try, try, and try some more,” I say into my elbow. “I swear on my life, round two will be legendary. I’m talking Sting-level endurance. I’m talking—”
She’s wheezing now. “Dylan, don’t worry. If that happened all the time, I’d worry, but that has never happened. You’re always all about making me come first. And this time you were all about making that baby.”
“I love you so much my dick just immediately surrendered.”
That sends her into another fit. She rolls on top of me and kisses my nose. “We have all the time in the world.”
So we try again. Slower this time. I make it good for her. It’s going great. Really great. Dahlia’s making those little noises that turn me on so fucking much, and I’m feeling like a sex god, when Dahlia’s phone lights up and starts blaring “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley.
We both freeze.
“For the love of all that is holy. Why is that your ringtone?”
“I don’t know!” Dahlia looks at the screen. “Ava,” she says, and before I can stop her, she reaches over and accidentally hits speaker while trying to silence it.
Ava’s voice fills the room, bright and happy. “Hello? Dahlia? Why do you sound out of breath? Are you working out? Wait—are you guys—”
Dahlia squeaks and slaps the phone away like it’s a spider. It clatters to the floor, still on speaker.
“Are they having sex right now?” we can hear Erin saying, way too delighted.
I yell “We’re hanging up!” and lunge for the phone, but I’m tangled in sheets and desire, and I end up falling off the bed completely naked, landing with a thud.
Ava and Erin are cackling.
“I never knew audio porn could be so much fun,” Erin says.
Dahlia is laughing so hard she’s crying, clutching a pillow to her face. “I’m going to make you both pay for this when I see you,” she squeaks out.
“Love you too, sis,” Ava singsongs.
“Get it, girl!” Erin says.
I finally manage to end the call with my toe. Silence, except for our hysterical breathing.
Dahlia wipes her eyes.
“Come here,” I mutter, climbing back onto the bed. “Round three. I’m locking the phone in the freezer.”
We’re just getting back into it—properly this time, rhythm on point, Dahlia’s nails skimming over my chest, my hand between her—when the phone starts up again. This time, it’s “Whatever It Takes” from Imagine Dragons, meaning my brother.
I groan so loud it echoes. “Ignore it.”
But Dahlia, evil woman, reaches over and hits accept before I can stop her.
“Tully!” she chirps, way too cheerful for someone currently riding me.
“Dahlia?” Tully sounds confused. “Did I call your phone? Why do you sound like you’re—”
“Doing cardio,” she supplies breathlessly. “Lots of cardio.”
I mouth, You’re so wrong, and she grins like a demon.
“Uh, cool,” Tully says. “Is Dylan there?”
I snatch the phone. “Tully. I love you, but we are literally in the middle of making your future niece or nephew. There’s a cock-block sale going on today, and you’re all buying into it.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Tully whispers, “Oh shit, right now?”
“Yes!”
Dahlia is biting her lip to keep from laughing.
“Carry on, soldier,” he says solemnly and hangs up.
Dahlia and I stare at each other for half a second before we absolutely lose it, foreheads pressed together, shaking with laughter. I’m inside her, and we’re giggling like idiots, and it’s perfect.
Until the phone rings again.
This time it’s the theme from The Golden Girls, which means Grandma Nancy.
Dahlia actually screams: “Noooo!”
I answer with one hand, still moving slowly because I’ve decided we’re finishing no matter what at this point. “Grandma, everything okay?”
“Dylan! Tully just told me the good news about your baby-making shenanigans! I’m so excited. You’re coming home in a few days, yes? I’ll make Lutheran Jell-O just for you two. The one with the shredded carrots and peas and the little marshmallows. Very fertility-inducing.”
Dahlia makes a strangled noise and buries her face in my neck to muffle her laughter. Her whole body is shaking so hard I’m getting performance whiplash.
“Thank you, Grandma,” I manage, voice cracking. “That’s…really thoughtful.”
“Okay!” Grandma Nancy says brightly. “Chop, chop. Practice makes babies! Kiss kiss!”
She hangs up.
I drop the phone off the side of the bed like it’s cursed. Dahlia and I look at each other, tears streaming down our faces.
“Lutheran Jell-O,” she gasps.
“With fertility marshmallows,” I wheeze.
We’re laughing so hard we can’t breathe, and somehow, we’re still moving together. All that willpower to last has worked. I am Sting-ing the hell out of this.
It turns out laughter and love and complete absurdity are the best aphrodisiacs in the world, because this time I last long enough for Dahlia to fall apart under me, shouting my name and something that sounds suspiciously like “God bless Lutheran Jell-O.”
After, we lie there tangled and sweaty and grinning like lunatics.
She traces my jaw. “Operation Baby is amazing.”
“I love Operation Baby.”
I pull a ring out from under my pillow. “How do you feel about Operation Wife? I love you more every single day, Dahlia. Will you marry me?”
“I already asked you, remember?” she says, then snorts when she sees my shocked expression and waves her finger. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” she hurriedly adds.
I slide that ring on her finger and kiss her.
“I love you more every single day too,” she says. “Do you have another round in you?”
“Always.”
You'll hear from someone unexpected in this bonus scene!
All we know about Lola Donavan is that she's the one who got away. So, what is she doing at Windhaven...with Patrick fucking Martin? Keep reading to find out whether Tully wants to win her back or if he's closed that door for good.