Epilogue
ELYSE
ABOUT 10 YEARS LATER
I didn’t realize these pants weren’t going to fit until it was too late. Now I’m lying on the bed, defeated and out of breath.
I run a hand over the swell of my belly, feeling the familiar weight of the baby pressing against my palm.
We weren’t even trying, perfectly happy with our three girls, but a well-timed weekend away paired with playing fast and loose with any form of birth control, and I got knocked up with our fourth.
This has been my hardest pregnancy yet—and, of course, it’s our first boy. Because naturally, it had to be a boy—men are always difficult.
Being pregnant at forty is no joke. More appointments, more strain on my body, and if I’m honest, a little fear. I’d just gotten used to the girls being older, more independent, needing me less. And now, here I am, starting over. Back at square one.
I worry I won’t have the same energy I once did. That I won’t keep up the way I used to. But ready or not, in about three months, he’ll be here.
“Ellie girl, you up there?” Dominic calls out as he climbs the stairs.
I turn to face him as he stands at the threshold of our bedroom, finding his jaw clenched to keep from laughing. I’m sure I’m quite the sight right now in nothing but a bra and these jeans squeezing the life out of my hips.
“What’s going on in here?”
I groan, letting my head fall back against the mattress. “I thought I could still wear my regular jeans. I thought wrong.”
Dominic leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his eyes sweeping over me with amusement and barely contained heat. “I can see that.”
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t laugh at me. This is your fault, you know.”
His mouth twitches, but he plays along. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”
I gesture vaguely at my belly, which is currently acting as a blockade between me and my favorite jeans. “You and your stupid face. And your stupid hands. And your?—”
He’s already moving, crossing the room in a few easy strides before he reaches the bed and crawls over to me, hovering his body over mine. He places a warm hand over mine, palm pressing against my rounded stomach.
“What was that about my hands?” He leans down, placing a kiss on my neck as his hand travels between my thighs. My hips lift on their own accord, grinding against his touch.
“I think your greedy pussy is what got us in this predicament.”
He dips his hand inside my unfastened pants and starts rubbing circular motions over my underwear, right where my clit is, forcing a needy sigh to float out of me.
I try to spread my legs wider for him, but the pants won’t allow me to move.
“Take them off,” I groan, trying to do it myself but can’t.
He chuckles, shifting to help me. “Querida mía, if you wanted me to take your clothes off, you could’ve just said so.”
I smack his arm, laughing as he finally frees me from the denim prison, taking my panties with them. He leans in, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his voice quieter now. “The girls are playing outside. Your mom is watching them for a bit before Lily’s competition starts.” He crawls back on top of me, settling some of his weight down on me enough to feel his hardened cock. “I’d say we have at least ten minutes.”
I roll my hips, seeking relief. “Then stop wasting time.”
My eyes meet his in challenge and he shakes his head, breathing out a laugh.
“If we had more time, I’d have your hands restrained behind your back for that comment. Guess I’ll have to fuck the brattiness out of you instead.”
He dips his head, sucking softly against the wild pulse in my neck.
“Please do, Sheriff Alvarez,” I moan.
His cock twitches against my thigh. He loves it when I call him that, never gets old. I scratch my nails up and down his back, lifting his T-shirt to feel more of his warm skin. He drags my bra down and captures one of my nipples in his mouth. The piercings are long gone, but that’s never stopped him from showering them with attention. It helps that I’m at the stage in pregnancy where my breasts are heavy and sensitive.
A throaty groan crawls up his throat as he tugs on my nipple with his teeth, a delicious combination of pain and pleasure.
“Fuck, your tits are so massive right now, makes me want to slip my cock between them. ”
“I need your cock somewhere else.” I spread my legs for him, proving my point, and like a good husband, he immediately slips two fingers inside me.
“Nice and wet.” He curls them just how I like, languidly thrusting them in and out, spreading my arousal.
“You have too many clothes on,” I tell him between breaths.
He moves back, stepping out of his jeans and stripping off his shirt. My mouth starts to water, taking him in.
If there’s one perk to his job, it’s the shape he stays in—strong, solid, incredibly fit. My body has changed in so many ways over the years, sometimes I hardly recognize it. But Dominic has always been steady, all strength and sculpted muscle, layer upon layer. So ridiculously hot sometimes I catch myself staring, and can’t believe he’s mine.
His eyes roam over me, tracing every curve, every change—over the c-section scar, the stretch marks I try to ignore, the beach ball of a belly that’s taken over my frame. But all I see in his gaze is appreciation.
He’s loved my body in every phase of life, through every transformation, and I’ve never once doubted it. Not when I was young and unmarked, not when I carried our daughters, not now, with our son stretching me to my limits.
His hands follow where his eyes linger, slow and reverent, as if memorizing me all over again. And when he angles closer, pressing a kiss to my stomach, I fall a little more in love with him.
“So fucking pretty,” he says under his breath as he joins me on the bed, sliding in behind me. Since this isn’t our first rodeo with pregnancy, we’re already familiar with all the best positions, and me on my side with Dominic’s chest to my back, is one of my favorites. He lifts my thigh to line up at my entrance and my breath hitches, waiting for the moment of relief when he’s finally inside me.
He enters me slowly, as if he’s savoring every second. Once he’s filled me to the hilt, I moan, tossing my head back into the crook of his neck.
“Feel good, Ellie girl?”
“So good,” I admit.
His hands travel over me as he pushes his cock in and out, his breath hot on my ear, one hand squeezing my breast the other cradling my stomach before sliding further down and rubbing right where I need him. I feel consumed when we fuck like this, and it’s such an addictive feeling it’s no wonder I’ve been pregnant for almost half our marriage. I can never get my fill of him.
“God, I love your pussy,” he says in grunt. “So desperate for my cock, gripping me like a vise.”
His words are my undoing, so filthy, they unravel me completely. I come with a vengeance, screaming his name as I do.
He follows right behind me, moaning into the back of my neck.
Afterward, the house is still quiet and we take advantage of the alone time, cuddling until one of the girls will no doubt burst through the front door any minute now.
I curl around him as he soothingly rubs my lower back. I trail light kisses on his bare chest, right over his heart, where he has our girls’ names tattooed. I kiss each one, already envisioning the day he adds baby boy’s name.
We’re still deciding on a name. My vote is Raúl, in honor of his dad. Dominic would rather give him an original name and make his middle name Raúl. We’ll see who wins the battle.
“Our son in there giving you any trouble?” he asks, kneading at the ache around my tailbone.
I sigh, shifting so he can reach more of me. “He’s just like his daddy, always wants my attention.” I let out anappreciative moan when he rubs just the right spot. “Unfortunately, he likes kicking my ribs so I know he’s there.”
“That’s my boy,” he says with pride. “Probably going to be an athlete with all the moving he’s doing.” His hand moves in slow, careful motions, and already the dull pain eases.
I thread my fingers through his hair, letting my nails scrape gently against his scalp. “You gonna survive a house full of girls and one very spoiled baby boy?”
Dominic’s expression turns serious for a moment. “I don’t know. Might be tough. The girls have already got me wrapped around their fingers.” Then, he smirks. “But baby boy? He’ll have you wrapped around his whole damn fist. Us Alvarez men have a way with the ladies.” He waggles his brows at me and I laugh, rolling my eyes.
“And who are these so-called ladies?” I ask, feigning jealousy.
His hand cups the side of my face, thumb sweeping over my cheekbone. “Only you, Ellie girl. It’s always only been you.”
He pulls me against him tighter and I sink into his hold, molding myself to him. We rarely have the opportunity for a middle of the day quickie and some naked cuddling. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.
“We’re going to be okay, you know that, right?” Dominic whispers.
I angle my head to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“The baby. I know you’re worried things will be different this time.”
I hadn’t voiced my worries, but I’m not surprised he picked up on them. He knows me better than I know myself.
“What if I’m too old? Too tired?”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “Ellie girl, you’re not old. And yeah, we’re gonna be fucking tired—but I got you. We’re a team. ”
His thumb sweeps gently over my cheekbone.
“Sometimes, in those first few seconds after I wake up, I forget,” he says quietly. “I forget that I got you back, that we built this beautiful life together. For a moment, I think I’m back in L.A.. Alone. But then I feel you against me, or I hear the girls, and I remember.
“I’ve loved you my whole life, but loving you as my wife, as the mother of our kids—carrying our son—that’s my greatest privilege. I’m scared too. But I’m also excited. He’s already the luckiest kid, having you as his mom.
“The way you go to battle for our girls, the way you protect them—I just know he’s going to be so loved and cared for by us and by his sisters. We’re going to be okay. We’ll be tired as hell, but we’ll be happy.”
My tears fall heavily. Motherhood and therapy changed me into a cryer. Now I cry about everything, but it’s especially worse when Dominic is the cause. He wipes them away with a tenderness that makes my heart squeeze.
“Thank you,” he says.
I swallow. “For what?”
“For letting me love you.”
I scoot up and press my lips to his, placing a slow, soft kiss. “I love you, too. Always have, always will.”
We stay intertwined, Dominic’s chin resting on the crown of my head, my arms wrapped around him like I never want to let go.
We’ve traveled all over the world, visited some of the most beautiful places on earth. But in his arms, in our home, with our kids safe and playing outside—this is paradise.
After a long beat, he stirs. “Think we have time for round two?”
Before I can reply, the creaking of the downstairs door swinging open sounds, followed by the pitter patter of three pairs of feet and the sound of my mom’s car descending our driveway. Time is up.
Dominic moves to sit, helping me along as he does. “Well, that was fun while it lasted.”
Together, we get dressed and join the girls. It’s nearly dinner time and sometimes they get a little feral when they’re hungry. They take after me in that regard.
Once we get downstairs, Dominic gets started on dinner while our two younger girls run around like little hellions, working off the last of their energy. Our oldest sits at the dining table instead, likely about to draw until it’s time to eat.
“Who wants pancakes?” Dominic calls out, standing at the stove, flipping one.
Thea and Esme simultaneously shout “Me!”, but Stella, stays quiet. She’s moving past the little kid stage, slowly morphing into a dreaded preteen.
“Stella, baby girl, do you not want pancakes?” Dominic asks her, barely concealing the hurt in his voice. He’s having a hard time with her growing up.
“I guess,” she murmurs, more fixated on her drawing. My little artist.
It’s funny how different and alike the girls are. Thea is Dominic’s twin, taking after him so completely I’d doubt she has an ounce of my DNA if she wasn’t so strong willed. Esme looks more like me, but with a wise quietness that reminds me of my mother-in-law. Then there’s Stella, the perfect mix of us both, not just physically, but even her personality. She’s funny and perceptive like Dominic, but has a streak of wild impulsiveness just like I had at her age.
Stella catches me staring and looks like she might roll her eyes, but thinks better of it. For a moment she looks to her dad and then to me, a question lighting behind her green gaze.
“Is it okay if my friend comes over after dinner?”
“Of course, you know your friends are always welcome here,” I tell her. “Do you want me to call Hazel’s mom and ask if she can come?”
I stand to grab my phone. Stella and Hazel have been best friends since kindergarten. The moment I reach my phone, Stella’s voice has me pause.
“Not Hazel. Asher,” she murmurs, focused on her drawing, her voice much smaller than I’m used to. “I told him he could come over.”
Immediately, I sense Dominic go rigid hearing him .
Dominic spins from the stove, spatula in his hand, his eyes impossibly wide. He absentmindedly hands the spatula to Esme, leaving our seven year old to take over pancakes. Thankfully, Shane is her favorite uncle, and she knows her away around the kitchen.
Choking on a cough he says. “Stell, who’s Asher?”
She shrugs, already uninterested. Or at least pretending she’s uninterested. “He lives in one of the new houses. He was playing with us before Grandma left and made us come back inside.”
Last year, the winery sold some acreage to a developer after the soil had degraded to the point it no longer produced good crop. Since then, our quiet home has been joined by neighbors down the hill.
Dominic’s chest rises and falls as he takes several breaths. Likely to calm the panic attack he thinks he’s having.
“Sure,” he croaks. “Bring the boy over.”
I meet his stare and silently mouth, “Stop.”
His skin blooms red. He’s on the edge of a spiral.
Before the situation escalates, I move toward him. “Girls, set the table. I need Daddy’s help really quick.”
Grabbing his hand, I drag him out of the kitchen and into the library down the hall. The moment the pocket doors shut behind me he lets out a ragged breath.
“She’s too young. Nine. Ellie! She’s nine! ”
I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a laugh. He sees the amusement on my face and shakes his head.
“How are you laughing right now? Our baby girl is bringing home a boy.” He starts to move past me, but I put my arms out to stop him. “I’m just going to change into my uniform. He should know I’ll arrest his little ass if he lays a hand on her.”
“Dominic,” I say through a laugh. “She’s not sixteen. He’s her friend.”
His nostrils flare as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Yeah, well I was that nine-year-old boy once, and my thoughts were anything but innocent. Even then.”
Coming close, I loop my arms around his neck, pulling him against me. “You need to be nice. We’re only going to chase her away if she doesn’t feel safe coming to us. My parents were very supportive of our friendship as kids.”
He huffs. “Your dad would’ve wrung my neck if he knew I had a big fat crush on you.”
I giggle, bringing my lips to hover over his. “I think he knew. We have to be welcoming to all her friends, even the ones who are boys. Besides, we don’t even know if she likes boys.”
Dominic huffs. “So now I have to worry about all her friends?! I don’t like this. I’m not ready.”
To distract him, I brush my lips to his, kissing him softly, and giving a little nip to his bottom lip as I pull away.
“I know what you’re doing,” he says with a moan before kissing me again, this one slightly rougher. “And it’s not going to work.”
Exhaling a sigh, I lock eyes with him. “She has lots of friends. No need to get worked up over this one.” My words have no effect on him, but I continue on. “Besides, if our daughter gets to experience a love like ours one day, would that be so bad? I think we turned out pretty great. ”
Some of the strain in his jaw releases. “I’m overreacting. I know I’m overreacting. But, fuck, Ellie, you have no idea the torture it is to know what all these little boys are thinking about my baby girls. We made beautiful daughters, and now I’ll have to suffer through them growing up and dating and I fucking hate it.”
I roll my lips, but a smile still slips out. “She’s nine. We have plenty of time before she’s even close to dating. You need to calm down.”
He shakes his head. “I kissed you when we were twelve. And I would’ve done it sooner had you let me.”
I toss him a pointed stare. “Exactly. You followed my lead. Trust her, she’s a smart girl.”
He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Between you and the girls, I’m going to be full-on gray by the end of the year.”
“Me?” I gasp. “What did I do?”
His hands run down my sides and then back, to cup my ass. “You just keep getting so goddamn sexy I can’t keep my hands off you.”
I giggle like I would have when we were teenagers, my skin flushing pink. Even after all these years, he still makes me feel giddy—like I’m fifteen again, crushing on the boy next door.
It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s always been worth it. Through the mess I was during my pregnancy with Stella, terrified I’d miscarry. Through the stress of every election cycle when Dominic re-runs for sheriff. Through the worry of aging parents, the chaos of raising kids, the whirlwind of summers packed with sports and wedding season. Life never really slowed down.
I glance up at him—the boy I loved, the man I married, the one person who has always had all of me. I was right all those years ago when I got his name tattooed on my wrist. Even then, I knew he was permanent .
With a soft sigh, I lace my fingers through his and give his hand a squeeze.
Together, we step out of the library and back into the warm hum of our kitchen, where our girls are waiting. The scent of maple syrup and butter fills the air, the chatter of our daughters drifting through the room. Breakfast for dinner. A simple tradition, but ours.
Life has a funny way of working out. Sometimes all you need is a little time to age. Maybe some pressure. Definitely the risk of giving it another try.
Some things are simply better the second time around.
The End