Epilogue
Gwen
One year later
“Daddy! Momma is trying to lift something heavy again!”
For fuck’s sake. That boy.
My six-year-old son looked at me, his hazel eyes burning into my soul as his little lips turned into a frown.
I was trying to get my bookshelves set up in my new home library, and just when I started to lift a box of books, Aiden caught me red-handed.
“Baby girl!” My husband boomed from downstairs. A second later, I heard his boots marching up the stairs. He appeared in the doorway, a similar look on his face as his son. He gently moved Aiden out of the way and charged towards me.
Dean’s hair was down, stopping at his collarbone. Over the last three months, he'd been growing out his beard for a job. He looked like a mountain man, and all I wanted to do was jump him and rid—
The box of books was snatched out of my hands and set on my desk. With a grunt, he surveyed the floor of boxes and murmured something about it not being safe. He turned to me, pulling me to him and placing a hand on my belly. ,“No,” he growled, sending shivers down my spine.
“Dean, I was just—”
He leaned down, his hand snaking up into my hair, holding me in place. “I said no. You need something, you call me. You want something, you call me. You don’t put any strain on your body. You be a good girl and rest. Aiden and I will get anything you need. Isn’t that right, son?”
“Yes, sir,” he said proudly, hugging my legs. “My little brother needs his rest in your belly, Momma.” My hand brushed through his dirty blonde locks, and I smiled down at him.
“What if you get a little sister?” I asked softly as Dean pressed a kiss onto my head.
Our son screwed his face up in disgust. “We can give her to Aunt Haley.”
My jaw dropped, and Dean barked out a laugh. Our son kissed my belly and whispered, “You better be a boy.” He turned on his heel and skipped out of the room, heading down the hallway to his new room.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t you touch anything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dean, I'm only four months pregnant.”
He was halfway out the door and turned his head to the side. “Don’t give a fuck. Don’t move.”
We had our house built about thirty minutes away from St. Louis, on about five acres of land. It was just finished last month, and I' been in early nesting mode since Dean placed the keys in my hand.
We were married right after Dean signed a contract to work with the FBI—working with Collin specifically.
The Mafia King was still working on getting Romano’s trafficking rings shut down.
Unfortunately, they were all over the world, but the shipments mainly came from the U.S.
Cut off the supply, and the rings would stop.
Over the last year, Dean and James, along with Collin, had managed to find thirty more shipping containers all across America.
Over ten thousand lives had been saved. Casey Gomez had her “red list” of politicians, high members of society, and celebrities known to participate in these rings and support them.
Slowly, they'd been able to take each one down. The first one to go was Director Wells, head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The evidence against him was damning, and John Alex took his place.
The mafia was still in control of Major League Baseball; however, Collin wasn’t using the players like cattle anymore. He was also working with Jeremy—that was a whole complication on its own. Last I heard from Kay, the Russians were trying to take over. More mafia goons. Great.
As for me, I'd been working with the Children’s Hospital in St. Louis, in their trauma centers, part time—due to my overbearing husband—but it was nice to be in the city for three days a week.
Sundays at Sullie’s were still very much a thing, and since he'd stepped down, there were rumors of a bar expansion.
Dean’s footsteps echoed up the stairs, and he appeared in the doorway holding a foldable table.
He looked me up and down slowly. “You are so fucking beautiful. I’ll never get over it,” he said as he set up the table.
I watched from the corner as he placed the boxes on top.
When he was finished and pulled me to him, he said, “Now you don’t have to bend down. ”
My husband gripped my chin and forced me to look up at him, his eyes burning as he studied me.
“You need to be careful.”
I scolded him. “You do realize that when I was pregnant with Aiden, I did a lot on my own.”
His features softened, and he bent, his lips brushing over mine.
“I should have been there, but I wasn’t, and that’s in the past, but it will haunt me for the rest of my days.
Let me do what I need to do as your husband, as the father of your children.
Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you, Gwen. ”
I kissed him once more before pulling away to open the box he set on my desk. “You do take care of me, Dean. I just don’t need you to do everything for me.”
“Hm. You wanted me to do everything for you last night,” he murmured, coming up behind me, caging me in with his arms as his lips found my neck.
Heat crawled up my cheeks at the memory of him bending me over on the staircase, yanking my sweats down and eating me out until my legs shook.
Then, he fucked me like an animal, both of us still fully clothed.
My knees wobbled, and my core throbbed with need. His hands drifted up to my breasts, cupping them gently as my head fell back against his shoulder.
“I love seeing you swollen and horny, baby girl. Knowing that I filled you up so fucking good and made your body this way…” He groaned, giving me a squeeze. It was true. I was horny all the time now. All I wanted to do was eat ice cream, organize, and fuck my husband.
“Dean,” I whimpered as his hand drifted lower.
“You need me to relieve that ache? You need my fingers in that pussy? On that needy little clit?”
“Aiden will—”
He backed us up, kicking the door shut and resting his back against it.
One of his large hands dipped inside my leggings while the other covered my mouth.
His rough fingers traced over my sensitive bundle, and my knees nearly gave out as I moaned into his palm.
He chuckled in my ear. “If this is how needy you're going to be for me when you're pregnant, then I am pumping you full of me every chance I get.” He rubbed in slow, teasing circles, and my hips moved against him as I whimpered.
“Be quiet,” he ordered, shoving two fingers into me. My eyes rolled back, my back arching against him as he brought me to ecstasy within two minutes. After, he slapped my pussy and said, “We have to be at Sullie’s in an hour.”
Then, he left me to my room full of books while he went to build a Lego spaceship with our son.
Haley
“You don’t have to open it if you don’t want to, princess.”
I nodded and continued to stare at the envelope on the countertop. It was a letter from my father—explaining why he left and his involvement with the Matthews family.
Strong hands gripped my arms and turned me around. All of my negative thoughts melted away at the sight of my fiancé.
His dark hair was wet and loose from the shower, hanging down on his forehead. He was freshly shaven, his jaw tight. His dark brown eyes studied me as his hands drifted up to cup my face. “I thought you would want to know, Haley. If you want to open it, I’m here. If you don’t, then we can burn it.”
My hands gripped his wrists, my engagement ring sparkling against the setting sun streaming through the windows of our penthouse. James proposed to me last night, in front of the fireplace. He told me he was tired of waiting and pulled out the most beautiful oval emerald ring I had ever seen.
We were telling everyone later at Sullies.
I shook my head. “I’m done with toxic family members. The only family I need will be at Sullie's later and you, James.”
A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face. “Are we telling them tonight?”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to show the girls,” I said proudly, wiggling my ring finger.
He tilted his head. “It’s the same for me, you know.”
“What is?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pressed me into the counter.
His throat bobbed. “You are the only family I need.”
My heart skipped a beat as my soul reached out for his.
We finally found each other after years of drifting; our souls found a way to anchor themselves.
James’ father, General Fuckface, was sentenced to life in prison, his military awards and honors stripped from him.
He cursed and spit at James the day of his sentencing, but my agent kept his composure.
After that, James and I decided to go to therapy, provided by the Bureau.
He got to work through his traumas and childhood nightmares while I did the same in the room next door.
We went a month, together, hand in hand.
We'd seen Dean and Gwen in there once or twice, but we didn’t talk about it.
James had been working with the mafia.
Collin signed an agreement with the FBI to stay out of prison.
James was now the director of his own unit, specializing in sex trafficking.
The Bureau had decided to “look the other way” when it came to sports gambling.
I knew Collin was trying to get into the NFL, and with his success rate, he will be in it soon.
Kay and Collin lived in Chicago, and they came down every two weeks to see everyone, especially Sundays at Sullies.
Gwen, Dean, and Aiden moved outside the city on a nice piece of land with a big house, preparing for their newest addition.
Gwen was working at the children’s hospital in town, and we had lunch once a week.
I knew that, during the spring it would be harder due to wedding season.
I had five weddings booked so far, one of them being Bella’s.
Grant, my old co-worker, moved to St. Louis with his wife to be my assistant. I was the official CEO of Haley’s Happy Ever After—wedding planning events.
I had a talent for love, what could I say?