Epilogue – Paisley & Greyson
Paisley
“Grey, please!” I whined, arms akimbo as I stood over the open suitcase on our bed.
“You can’t tell me to pack a suitcase for an adventure and not tell me what to pack.
” We’d renewed our vows last night, and Greyson had dropped the surprise of a second-honeymoon-meets-anniversary-gift-meets-birthday-present trip on me.
“You said you trusted me. Besides”—his smirk turned wicked—“Bilbo didn’t even have a chance to pack for his adventure and look at how much fun he had.”
I snorted. “Yeah, a spider killer and dragon bait. How thrilling.”
Greyson ignored my griping. “You’re following in your hero’s footsteps.”
I crossed my arms. “No pocket handkerchief and death by dragon fire is a real selling point, hon. C’mon. Give me something to work with.” An idea hit me. “Ooh, I got it! We’ll make a bargain—Stephanie swears by them—and do twenty questions.”
“That’s not a bargain, my love. That’s a ruse.”
“Oh, but you didn’t let me finish.” I smirked and sashayed over to his side of the bed. Leaning into him, I pressed my hand against his abs—which he absolutely flexed—and walked my free hand up his chest. Slowly.
Greyson’s throat bobbed, and his pulse skittered under my hands. But he didn’t move. Like he’d been turned to stone.
“For every question I ask, you get a kiss,” I murmured huskily.
I was no military general, but I knew how to outfox my husband.
Wow. I loved saying that. Juliet said we were worse than newlyweds now than we’d ever been the first time, but I guess that’s what happened when you faced losing the love of a lifetime.
“Give and receive and all that,” I added, biting my lip for extra effect.
As I intended, Greyson’s gaze dropped instantly to my lips and molten heat flared in his eyes. Arms snaking around my lower back, he pulled me flush against him. “Pais,” he whispered, voice deliciously raspy. He leaned down, nose tracing slowly up my jawline to my ear.
“Hmm?” Victory was about to be mine.
His lips brushed against the shell of my ear. “I’m not falling for that.” Then the man kissed below my ear, in that knee-buckling spot, and had the audacity to laugh when it reset me to factory settings and I plastered against his chest.
Drat the man. I smacked him and scrambled to regain my footing. “You’re a rogue, Greyson Satterfield, and you play dirty. Didn’t the military teach you honourable tactics?”
“Me? Play dirty?” He raised a smug eyebrow. “More dirty than your seduction attempt, little minx? You play a dangerous game.”
I ignored that. “Well, it should have worked.”
“Oh it did.” He nuzzled my neck. “Just not how you hoped.”
I tugged away from him and started flinging clothes back and forth on the bed. “Give a girl something to work with! I don’t want to be wearing a swimsuit if we’re going to, I don’t know, Alaska?”
He didn’t fall for that either. “You don’t even own a swimsuit, so you have nothing to worry about there.”
I tossed a cardigan at him, and he caught it, laughing.
He had a point, even if I didn’t want to admit it.
I couldn’t swim, despite living for eighteen years on the Oregon Coast and spending five years after that at college in Seattle.
Shocking, but still. “Doesn’t mean you might not want to teach me? ” I wiggled my eyebrows like a loon.
Greyson just laughed “Bring whatever you usually wear and comfortable shoes for lots of walking.”
I sighed. “That’s all I get?”
“A man’s got to draw the line somewhere. But . . .” he drawled, leaning down, his breath feathering the skin at my neck a moment before his lips pressed a kiss to my pulse. “If you’re offering something more—”
“Go away.” I swatted him. “Will you at least look at what I pack and if I make a grave error in judgment, correct me?”
He nodded. “That I can do. But go away? Never. You’re stuck with me, love.
” Then he proceeded to distract me, pulling me into his arms and delivering a knee-knocking kiss with that gentle insistence I adored.
His lips whispered promises over mine, branding yet tender, and as my back hit the mattress, I felt well and truly cherished—mind, body, and heart.
Greyson
I ended up telling Paisley where we were going.
While my wife put on a brave face and was doing better with surprises, I could read her well enough to know she wasn’t in love with the idea of not knowing.
Add to that the prolonged hours in a plane, and I figured a heads-up was the kindest thing to do.
So I made her dinner, cued up The Hobbit, and dropped the bomb.
“We’re going to New Zealand?” she whispered, eyes comically wide. “To the Hobbit village?”
“As long as you’re okay with a plane ride—oof!”
She tackled me against the sofa, landing on top of me with a radiant smile.
“Hey.” I brushed away a tear that slipped out beneath her glasses. “Was it an okay surprise?”
“Okay?” She laughed, but it wobbled. “It’s a dream come true. But how? I mean, we weren’t celebrating a big anniversary or a birthday.” She paused and counted. “No, I’m not turning thirty till next year.”
I chuckled, hugging her. “We’d been saving for a trip, and I’d been taking on extra woodworking projects. It’s been lined up since spring.”
“You and your secret-vault skills,” she teased, cupping my cheek.
“You’re pretty good with those yourself. Are you ready for our own unexpected adventure?”
Leaning down, she kissed me softly, and I caught the whiff of strawberries. “Lead on, master dwarf. Lead on.”