Bonus Epilogue
Rhett
Thank God for raised beds that require a bit of a leap to get into them.
Mary London’s flat on her back, legs in the air, and full round breasts bouncing as I thrust into her with that upward angle she begs for at this stage of her pregnancy. Her rounded belly gets in the way in most every other position but this one is still perfection.
“Rhett,” she hisses, hands releasing the fluffy duvet to grab her breasts.
“That’s it, baby. Play with those aching nipples for me.”
Her wedding ring flashes in the early morning sunlight, sending rainbows shooting across the room.
I’m pretty confident I’ll never get tired of seeing that ring on her finger and knowing she’s mine to take care of forever.
We got married on her parents’ property less than a year after the bar opened, a mountain of flowers and tulle—a material I didn’t know about until wedding planning took over our lives—and green grass and white chairs.
Mary London smiled so brilliantly that whole day.
I fell apart and cried like a baby when her father walked her down the aisle.
“Harder,” Mary London whispers, pulling me back to the present.
I reposition her legs on my shoulders and give my wife what she wants.
I was warned by Silas about the third-trimester shot of sexual need, but I didn’t really take it to heart.
Normally I’m not a man to complain about needing to make love to my wife on a daily—sometimes hourly—basis, but I’m also mid-forties now and God knows I’m getting a little worn out.
Mary London releases her breasts and covers her mouth, groaning while trying to keep quiet for Rylan’s sake upstairs.
No senior in high school wants to hear his parents having sex.
When I remodeled this place, I tried to add soundproofing when I had the walls open, but I love how she still thinks of my son.
Those two are close, which I don’t take for granted.
Blended families can be hard, but Mary London makes everything look easy.
Her eyes roll back and then squeeze tight.
I can feel her start to pulse around me.
I give two last thrusts before I spill into her and promptly lose my footing.
I have to plant one knee in the side of the mattress and one hand by her head to keep from falling on top of her and the baby.
Goddamn, it never gets any less amazing with Mary London.
Her legs slide off my shoulders and to the sides. Her eyes pop open. “Ouch.”
I jump up like someone touched a wet battery to my ass. “What’s wrong?”
She grimaces while I reach down to help her into a sitting position, something she can’t really manage on her own anymore. “Just my back.”
I rub the back of my neck with worry and come around to sit behind her. She sags into me, already tired and the day has barely started.
“You sure you want to go into the boutique today? At thirty-nine weeks, everyone expects you to be resting.” I don’t want to start an argument, but at some point, my Energizer bunny wife is going to need to get off her feet.
She rolls her head on my shoulder to kiss my jaw. “I just need to place an order and then I’ll come home. Promise.”
“Maggie is fully capable of running everything,” I remind her. Mary London made Maggie the store manager of Golden Halo as soon as the bar opened. The young woman has run with it, making it her baby just as much as Mary London did.
The thing is, Mary London’s been working hard for years now, and has the successful businesses to prove it, but it’s my job as her husband to support her in any way I can, which includes telling her to rest. Especially with our baby due any day now.
“I know, I know. I just want to touch base one last time before the baby’s here,” Mary London says, sitting away from my chest and then heaving herself to her feet.
It’s mostly just a slide off the bed, thanks to the height.
She turns and slides her fingers into my hair.
Her full breasts sway on top of her swollen belly, faint pink marks visible from where she fondled herself.
She’s so fuckin’ beautiful. If she gives me a half hour, I could probably make her groan some more.
Her kiss is sweet and slow and almost perfect.
If she were staying in this bed with me for the whole day, it would be.
But alas, she releases me and waddles to the bathroom to start getting ready.
I watch her go, loving how her body’s changed with this pregnancy.
She’s a walking miracle maker and I’ll never get over the transformation.
If she’ll let me, I’ll have her pregnant a few more times before calling our family complete.
Believe me, no one’s more surprised than me.
I slide off the bed and look for a clean pair of jeans.
I have multiple projects going around town and need to get to them anyway, one of which is a project for one of her father’s commercial sites.
Mary London’s not the only one who plans to take time off once she goes into labor.
My role as husband only amplifies when the baby’s here.
I barely have my jeans zipped when the door to our bedroom bangs open.
I expect it to be Rylan, though he’s learned the hard way to always knock.
Instead, I’m surprised to see Deuce standing there wide-eyed and frazzled.
It’s not often you see the dapper man look anything less that confident and calm.
“Have you seen Silas?”
“Have you heard of knocking?” I grouse. Five minutes earlier and he would have walked in on my naked wife.
He releases the doorknob and grabs both of my shoulders.
Up close, I notice a wild look of panic in his startling green eyes.
His hair looks like he forgot to comb it this morning.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without gel and some mysterious pomade that keeps each individual dark hair in perfect position.
Oh shit, he’s in trouble. I drop the attitude and try to be a good friend.
“What do you need?”
“My mother is here.” His words are robotic, lacking his usual dose of mischief.
“Okay… I’m not following.” I didn’t know Deuce even had a mother. I mean, obviously he was born with a mother, he didn’t just hatch, but I only knew about his father who lived here in Heaven.
“Silas,” Deuce says in that same weird trance voice.
I look at my watch. Damn, it’s not even seven in the morning. “He’s probably at home still.”
“Nope.”
I’m sure Betsy Mae had a middle finger or two that she used this morning if Deuce showed up unannounced at their house like he did here.
“Okay, well, then he’s—” I cut off mid-sentence, remembering something we talked about.
“Wait. He said yesterday that he’s taking up running again.
Said he gained pregnancy weight right alongside Betsy and he needed to do something about it.
He also said he was keeping it a secret from Betsy because she’d be pissed if he got in shape before she had the baby and had the chance to do it first.”
That’s a lot of rambling, but Deuce seems to eat it up, his eyes darting back and forth on mine.
The door behind me bangs against the wall. Mary London steps out of the bathroom in a floral dress she’s been wearing on repeat since the spring temperatures spiked two weeks ago. Her eyes are wide and glossy and she doesn’t seem to notice a panicked Deuce in our bedroom.
“I peed myself.”
“What?”
“Oh Lawdamercy,” Deuce whispers, finally coming out of his trance. He spins on his heel and runs out of the house, front door slamming behind him. If Rylan wasn’t up yet for school, he is now. I simply can’t worry about Deuce right now when my pregnant wife clearly needs me.
“I think my water broke.” Mary London looks down at herself where I finally notice the front of her dress is wet and liquid still trickles down her legs.
I jump into action, grabbing her hospital bag and helping her slide her swollen feet into some flip-flops. “Let’s go have a baby!”
“Wait!” she shouts, not moving from where she’s been standing while I dash around the room.
“There’s no time to go into the boutique, June bug.”
She rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t going to suggest that. I was going to suggest you put on a shirt and some shoes first. Don’t need the nurses staring at my hot husband while my hoohaw is on display for the entire world.”
I grimace at her vivid description but also preen for a second, running a hand over my chest, then realize I’m keeping my in-labor wife waiting while I stroke my ego. I find a T-shirt, pull it over my head, slide my feet into tennis shoes, and yell up at Rylan.
“Ry! Come down here!”
We hear his feet thundering on the stairs.
“What’s going on?” he hollers back, then steps into our room. He takes one look at Mary London and the duffel bag in my hand. “Well, don’t just stand there! Let’s go make me a big brother! Did you start timing the contractions, Mama?”
It still hits me right in the chest when he calls her mama. Mary London waddles out of the bedroom, while I open doors and assist any way I can. Rylan times the contractions, and somehow the three of us make it into my truck and on our way to the hospital.
Just when I think life can’t get any better, it does.
When Rylan and I moved back to Heaven, I didn’t think we’d find heaven on earth on the wrong side of the tracks. I slide my fingers through Mary London’s and give her hand a squeeze.
“I’ll be right by your side the whole time, June bug.”
She smiles over at me and then her face contorts into a grimace as she puffs air in and out of her pretty mouth through a contraction. “You better, Rhett Price! You did this to me, after all.”
“Ew. Little ears here,” Rylan interjects from the back seat with his deep voice.
I grin like an idiot the whole way to the hospital.
Several hours later we welcome our healthy baby girl, Ophelia Winthrop Price. The sweet little angel already has a set of lungs on her, just like her mama.