Epilogue
"Mama, watch this!"
Briggs stood on the platform of the line Alec had built him for his third birthday, yelling down like I hadn't been watching him every second.
His daddy had rigged it ten feet off the grass on the south side of the property, twenty feet of low cable that ended in a soft drop into a clover patch. A small wood platform. A small harness. A small carabiner Briggs had been taught to clip himself, with his father standing behind him every time.
He had his father's careful hands on the carabiner, his father's complete confidence, and absolutely none of his father's restraint. He launched himself down the line full speed, sneakers kicking, grin wide enough to split his face.
I caught him at the bottom and swung him onto the grass.
"Again," he said.
"One more. Then your sister gets water."
"Dad said I could do it ten times."
"Dad's not your mother."
"You're my mother."
"Correct."
He took off for the platform again.
I pulled Maren onto my hip and both of her hands tangled in my hair. She watched her big brother like she was saving instructions for later. Two years old, stubborn as a stump, and willing to be held by exactly three people in the world—me, Alec, and Briggs.
"Bwiggs," she said.
"Briggs, baby."
"Bwiggs."
"We'll work on it."
She buried her face in my neck, and I kissed the top of her head as Briggs whooped overhead.
The dog-day heat sat heavy on the ridge, the same way it had the first summer I came up here.
Only now I was Mrs. Hollister. I lived in the cabin on the ridge.
These children were ours—Briggs on the way before our first anniversary, Maren following a year and change behind him, the four of us happening so fast my mother had stopped saying, “Take your time” and started saying, “Whatever you two are drinking, bottle it.”
Some days, I still couldn't believe it.
Alec came around the side of the office with Bishop, Breanna, and their little girl. Opal was perched on Bishop's shoulders, waving a leaf like she'd discovered gold.
"Aunt Bree!" Briggs yelled. "Watch me!"
"I see you, baby," Breanna called.
He zipped down again while Opal cheered and Maren finally lifted her head. Bishop set Opal on the grass, and the two girls immediately sat nose-to-nose, deep in the mysterious business of toddler cousins.
Alec came to stand beside me, his hand settling at the small of my back.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi."
"You're back early."
"Jeb closed the platform."
I glanced up at him. "He didn't have to."
"I told him to."
"Why?"
His mouth tipped up. "Because it's been five years, and I want to take my wife to the swimming hole."
Bishop and Breanna exchanged a look like they'd been waiting for this exact line.
Inside thirty seconds, both kids had been handed over, Alec had passed off our cabin keys, and Bishop had rolled his eyes through a list of bedtime instructions he already knew by heart.
Breanna kissed my cheek. "Go. We've got them till morning."
"Bree—"
"Tamra. Go."
So I went.
Alec drove us down the same gravel road I'd followed five summers ago, back when I had a camera in the back seat, the wrong sundress on my legs, and nerves shaking through both hands.
The road hadn't changed. The trees were taller now, but the clearing opened the same way, and the river still ran wide and deep against the granite ledge. Not another vehicle sat in the turnout.
"You called ahead," I said.
"I called Jeb."
"You planned this."
"I planned it."
I got out in cutoff shorts and one of Alec's T-shirts knotted at my waist. I'd dressed for chasing children, not whatever was waiting in the look he gave me before walking past the swimming hole toward the trees.
"What are you doing?"
"Come here."
"Alec."
"Come here, Tamra."
So I did.
He led me fifty feet up the bank, through the trees, and when we stepped into the clearing, I stopped.
The rope swing.
I'd asked about it for three summers. He'd always said, "Not yet, baby. When you're ready."
It hung from the highest oak, thick and weathered, with a knot at the bottom and a clean drop into the deepest part of the river. I'd watched customers fly off it. Watched Alec demonstrate it. Watched him come up laughing while I stood on the bank with a baby on my hip and told myself someday.
Apparently, someday had arrived.
"You ready?" he asked.
I looked from the swing to him. "You think I am?"
"I think you've been ready for a year."
"Show me how."
He did. He walked me onto the platform, placed my hands on the rope, showed me where to put my feet and when to let go. He answered my questions, then stepped back.
My choice.
So I chose.
I swung.
The platform dropped away, and suddenly I was sailing out over the river with the hot air on my face and my hair coming loose behind me. At the top of the arc, I let go.
The fall was fast. The water was cold. I went under, kicked up, and came up laughing so hard I barely recognized the sound.
Alec was already in the water. "There she is."
I wiped my face, still laughing. "Here I am."
He pulled me into him in the chest-deep water, and my legs wrapped around his waist like they belonged there. His hands slid under my thighs. His mouth found my neck.
The river was cool around us. The sun was low over the ridge. The whole world felt warm and slow and ours.
"The kids are with Bishop till morning," I said.
"They are."
"That's a long time."
"It is."
He carried me to the flat stretch of sun-warmed rock at the edge of the pool—the same place he'd laid me down five summers ago. He set me there with the same careful hands, then stepped between my knees and pulled my knotted T-shirt over my head.
His mouth was on mine before it hit the rock. "Five years," he said against my throat.
"Five years."
His fingers worked the button of my shorts. "Tell me what you want."
"I want what you want."
"That's not how this works."
"Alec."
"Tell me, Tamra."
I looked up at him, breathless and soaked and completely his. "I want you. Same as I've wanted you every day for five years. Same as I wanted you the first day. Just…please."
He laughed softly against my collarbone.
Then he gave me exactly what I asked for.
I kissed him back hard, tasting river water and heat on his tongue, my fingers already dragging at the wet hem of his shirt. He pulled it off in one motion, and then his shorts were gone too, leaving him naked and hard against me on the warm rock.
I sat up, pushing at his chest until he straightened, and wrapped my hand around his thick cock. It was hot and heavy, pulsing in my grip. I looked up at him once, just long enough to see the hunger in his eyes, then leaned forward and took him into my mouth.
Alec groaned, low and rough, his hand sliding into my wet hair. I sucked him deep, swirling my tongue around the head before sliding down as far as I could take him.
The taste of him—clean river water and pure male—made me moan around his length. I worked him with my mouth and hand, slow and wet, listening to the way his breathing fractured above me.
"Fuck, Tamra," he rasped, hips twitching like he was fighting not to thrust. "That mouth—God, baby, you feel so good."
I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, loving the way he filled me. His fingers tightened in my hair, but before I could push him closer to the edge, he gently pulled me off with a shaky breath.
"Enough," he growled, eyes dark. "My turn."
He knelt between my spread legs on the rock, big hands pushing my thighs wider. The first slow lick up my center tore a cry from my throat. He didn't tease. He devoured—mouth hot and insistent, tongue circling my clit before sucking it between his lips.
I arched off the rock, fingers scrabbling against the smooth granite as pleasure spiked through me. The sounds he made were filthy and perfect, wet licks and hungry groans vibrating against my pussy.
"Alec—oh fuck, right there," I gasped, hips rolling against his face. He slid two fingers inside me, curling them just right while his tongue flicked, fast and relentless. The pressure built fast and sharp. "I'm gonna—baby, I'm coming?—"
He sucked harder, and I came, crying out his name as the orgasm crashed over me. My thighs shook around his head, waves of heat rolling through my body while he kept licking me through it, softer now, drawing it out until I was trembling.
I was still catching my breath when he rose up, positioning himself between my legs, the thick head of his cock nudging my entrance. I wanted him so badly I ached, but I pressed a hand to his chest.
"Wait," I whispered. "I want to be on top."
His eyes flashed with heat. He sat back on the rock, leaning against the slight incline, cock standing hard and glistening.
I climbed over him, straddling his hips, knees braced on the warm stone.
From this angle, he could see everything—my breasts heavy and swaying as I hovered above him, my pussy slick and ready.
His gaze devoured me, dark and reverent.
"Fuck, look at you," he murmured, hands sliding up my thighs to grip my waist. "So fucking beautiful."
I lowered myself slowly, taking every thick inch until he was buried deep inside me.
We both moaned at the same time—his a guttural sound, mine high and needy.
I started to move, rolling my hips, then rising and sinking in a steady rhythm.
My breasts bounced with every thrust, nipples tight from the cool air and his stare.
Alec's hands cupped them, thumbs brushing the sensitive peaks before he leaned in and caught one nipple with his mouth. He sucked hard, tongue flicking, while his other hand slid between us to rub tight circles over my clit.
"Oh God, Alec," I panted, riding him faster. The wet sounds of my pussy sliding up and down his cock mixed with our ragged breathing and the distant rush of the river. "You're so deep like this. I love how you fill me up."
"Ride me, baby," he growled against my breast, biting gently before soothing it with his tongue. "Take what you need. These tits bouncing for me—fuck, you're perfect. So tight and wet. You gonna come on my cock again?"
"Yes," I moaned, grinding down harder, clit rubbing against his fingers with every roll of my hips. "I'm so close. Come with me, Alec. Fill me up."
He groaned, sucking my nipple deeper into his mouth while his fingers moved faster on my clit. The pleasure coiled tighter, hotter. I rode him harder, skin slapping against skin.
"Come on, Tamra," he rasped, voice breaking. "Let me feel you squeeze me. Milk my cock, baby."
I came hard with a sharp cry, clenching around him in pulsing waves. Alec thrust up into me once, twice, then pulled me down tight as he followed, groaning my name against my skin while he spilled deep inside me.
We stayed locked together, panting, his mouth still brushing my breasts as the aftershocks rolled through us.
"Tamra?"
"Mmm?"
"Marry me again."
"What?"
"In this spot. With the kids."
"You want to renew our vows on this rock?"
"I want to renew our vows on this rock."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay, Alec."
He laughed against my throat. I laughed back. I held him on the rock at the edge of the swimming hole where I'd let go of the woman I used to be five years ago, and the dog-day heat was finally breaking the way it always did at the end of August.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
"Thanks for coming up early that Saturday."
I laughed. "You're welcome."
Things are heating up this summer. Don’t miss the rest of the Mountain Man Summer series, available here.
Alec’s brother Bishop finds love in Mountain Man’s Firefly Girl. It’s Book 1 in the Wildwood Valley Rapids series. Get it here.
Click here for a full list of Lilah’s books.