Epilogue
Jocelyn
He’s holding a baby.
My Asher. Holding a baby.
I never thought such a thing would affect me, but here I am. Confounded.
Yayoi and Geoff’s genetics produced an especially cute specimen of human, and Asher’s in love. This isn’t the first time he’s
held baby Isley. It is the first time the sight has made me want to tear his clothes off.
He took her to the rocker on the other side of the porch while Yayoi, Geoff and I eat at the table. Most everyone is still
in the pool, shouting about who’s cheating at volleyball.
I can’t take my eyes off Asher. Maybe it’s that goofy smile on his face.
Or that he keeps calling her Isley Sugar Pops in his baby voice.
Or maybe it’s just him. I’m still not sure I want kids, but maybe I’m forming a second opinion.
Besides, I don’t particularly mind practicing for it, and my body kind of thinks we should practice right now.
“I know that look,” Yayoi whispers near my ear.
I don’t deny it. “What is it about men holding babies?”
She shrugs. “Biological instinct. Your cavewoman brain is telling you he’d be fantastic at protecting your offspring.”
I try to hum, but even to my own ears it’s more like an aroused and telling purr. “He’d be good at making them, too.”
“Ew.” Geoff shoots me a disgusted face. “I’m eating.”
I ignore him in favor of staring Asher down—predator watching prey—and like I called out to him, he looks up. Our eyes meet,
and happiness blossoms in his addictive smile.
I love you, I mouth.
I love you, too.
I am his. He is mine.
And this love between us is stronger than death.
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