Epilogue
ONE MONTH LATER
Rylee
My eyelids crack open, and I stretch my legs, the couch is not as comfortable as my bed. Noise echoing from the basement draws my attention. I roll off the couch, almost tripping over the stack of college enrollment papers. Trey encouraged me to finish my degree since I was only twelve credits shy from graduating. I told him I don’t have plans of leaving Porter’s to pursue a different career, and he told me to do it for myself. Finish what I started. Then he showed me exactly what finishing what you start means… from between my legs. When he does things like that, I can’t argue with his logic.
I tiptoe across the room and slink down the stairs, eavesdropping on the conversation.
“I’ll have another apple ale,” Abby says.
“Coming right up,” Trey says, followed by the clanking of glasses. “Wait a second. Do I need to check your ID?”
“I’m seven.”
“So, you’re not driving?”
She bellows out an infectious laugh. “I can’t drive.”
“Okay. Just checking.”
After Kyle attacked Trey, the court charged him with aggravated assault, resulting in the revocation of his parental rights of Abby. With the way Trey has stepped up as a father figure, she’s hardly even noticed. He thinks of Abby as if she is his biological daughter. Last week, he started the adoption paperwork so it can be official. Every day I fall harder and harder for him, if that’s even possible.
At the bottom of the stairs, I come to a stop and rest my shoulder against the wall. Trey’s standing behind the bar, Kaelyn’s strapped to his chest in a tactical baby harness, as Abby sits on a stool across from him. A golden liquid pours into a glass from the tap, filling it to the rim. He slides it across the bar in front of Abby. She lifts it and takes a big gulp.
“Ah! That’s a good ale.” Abby sets down the glass.
I drop from the last step and stroll to the bar. “So, this is what you do while I nap?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“Day drink apple ale? Absolutely.” Trey grabs a glass and pulls down the tap, filling my glass halfway before passing it to me.
I take a sip and smile. “Apple juice.”
Abby busts out laughing, nearly falling off her stool. “We fooled you, Bunny!”
Sadly, the name stuck with Abby. Trey likes to use it in the bedroom. “You sure did.” I tickle her sides as she squirms and squeals on her stool.
Trey shrugs. “She wanted to hang out with the guys, so I had to make it as authentic as possible. And who doesn’t want apple juice on tap?”
I smile and shake my head but take another drink of my apple juice. Even though Trey’s not single anymore, he continues the weekly SBL tradition, except now it’s turned into an evening with everyone. All the guys, their significant others, and even the kids come over to hang out for a few hours.
“Alright. Day drinking is over. Abby, I need your help upstairs.” I climb off my stool.
“But I’m not done with my ale,” Abby whines.
“Bring it with you.”
“But Squirrel says no glasses can leave the bar.”
“I’ll make an exception this time. Just be careful,” Trey says.
“Okay.” She hops off her stool and reaches for her glass of apple juice.
When we’re upstairs, I pull Abby into her room. “I need your help. Can you show me how to fold a paper ring?”
* * *
Trey sits in the plush chair, Kaelyn nestled in the crook of his arm, as he feeds her a bottle. If there’s anything that can make me want to have another baby, it’s watching Trey with a baby. Swoon. Plus, Kaelyn is so tiny compared to his large frame, especially when he holds her in his palms. Instant baby making material.
“Abby, it’s time for bed,” I say.
She rolls over on the living room floor. “But I’m not tired.”
“You’re never tired, but that doesn’t change the fact it’s bedtime.”
She groans but climbs to her feet. She runs over to Kaelyn and kisses her forehead. “Good night, Acorn. Good night, Squirrel.”
“Good night, Chipmunk.”
“I’ll come tuck you in.” I run my hand over her head as she runs past me.
“I think this one is ready for bed too. But first it’s time to deactivate the bomb she just dropped.” His face scrunches up.
I take the bottle from him. “You do that. I’ll say good night to Abby. We’ll reconvene in the bedroom in, say, ten minutes.”
“I love when you talk dirty to me.” He winks.
After Abby and Kaelyn are in bed. Trey strolls into our bedroom and closes the door with a click. I sit up in bed then with one hand in front of the other, I crawl on my hands and knees to the end. Trey’s hooded eyes watch my every move.
“Is this the type of night we’re having?”
At the foot of the bed, I rise to my knees. With my fingers curled around the waistband of his jeans, I pull him to me. With deft fingers, I push the button through the hole. “Well, there is something I want to ask you.”
He rests a finger under my chin. “If the question is if I’ll go yodeling in the gully? Absolutely.” He winks. Then he reaches behind his head and pulls his shirt. The fabric slowly slides up, revealing every dip and valley of his abs. All thoughts and questions disappear from my head.
With a glint in his eyes, he prowls over my body. I fall backward hitting the mattress, forcing a giggle out of me. His hand glides from my knee and up my thigh. Goosebumps spring up over every inch of my body. A single touch from him sets my body ablaze. I cup his cheek. His scruff tickles my fingers as I haul his mouth to mine.
The kiss is both scorching and desperate. Two words that describe exactly how Trey makes me feel.
Breaking away, he starts at my jaw and kisses his way down the column of my neck. His hand slides up my stomach, taking my shirt with him. I arch my back as he moves to below my breastbone. He trails kisses down my stomach, making sure to kiss each and every one of my stretch marks.
“I love you so much.”
My fingers thread through his hair, gripping the strands.” I love you even more.”
When he reaches my hip, his thumbs dig under the fabric of my yoga pants and slowly drags them down my legs. “Let’s put my yodeling skills to the test.” He kisses my inner thigh on one side, then the other. The tip of his tongue slides up my slit.
“Ahhh! Yes!” My fingers grip tighter around his strands.
He alternates his licks between the flat of his tongue and the tip. My hips buck each time he hits my clit.
“Fuck. Rye. You taste fucking sweet as honey.” With his fingers, he spreads me open. His lips wrap around my clit and he sucks.
“Oooh! Mmm!”
“Shhh. You’ll wake the kids.” His finger teases at my opening before he pushes into me.
I blindly reach for a pillow and slam it over my face. “Oh god. More. I need more.” My muffled words spur Trey on. He flicks his tongue over my clit as he continues to plunge his finger in and out. A tingle starts at my toes and shoots off through my entire body like a rocket. I cry out his name as my fingers clench his hair, keeping him right where I want him. My orgasm subsides and so does my grip on his hair.
I move the pillow to the other side of the bed and sit halfway up on my elbows.
He lifts his head from between my legs and licks his lips. “I think my yodeling skills are on par.”
“You’re a professional yodeler.”
He pushes his jeans off, and they hit the floor with a thud. He crawls up my body and nuzzles his nose in my neck. “What did you want to ask me?”
“Oh. Yes," I say with a playful nudge, causing him to shift to the side. With a gentle tug, I pull open the nightstand drawer and retrieve the delicate paper ring I made earlier. “I wasn’t planning on doing this while we were half naked, but it doesn’t matter.” I sit sideways, knees bent on the bed. Gently, I grasp his left hand and carefully slip the paper ring onto his finger. Peering up, I meet his gaze. “Seven months ago, you put a paper ring on my finger and asked me to marry you so it’s only fitting that I return the gesture. Will you marry me?”
He glances down at the ring, then at me. “There’s only one flaw with your gesture.”
I tilt my head. “What’s that?”
“I’m not going to tell you no.” He cups my cheek and pulls me to him with a kiss. It’s soft and sweet. He pulls away, resting his forehead on mine. “Just so you know, I expect nothing less than two carats, princess cut, and white gold.”
I wide grin covers my face. “I’ll work on that.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and twists us around so my back is on the bed. “Also, in case you missed that, my answer is yes.”
* * *
Dessa
I peek my head over the ledge of the side window into the Porter’s parking lot.
“She’s here! Get ready!”
I scamper to the main bar area where everyone is gathered. A corner of the banner we got that says Welcome Back Rylee dangles from the ceiling. I climb up on a stool and re-secure it. As I step down, a sliver of light pours in through the front door as Rylee strolls in. A roar of claps and cheers rolls through the bar as everyone rises to their feet.
The widest grin takes over her face as pink tinges her cheeks. “What is all this?” She glances around the packed Porter’s. She strolls toward the end of the bar where Lach, Nora, Jake and I are standing. As she passes, everyone offers their congratulations. “You’d think I won a Nobel Peace Prize, not have a baby.”
When she’s within arm’s reach, I squeal and pull her to my chest. “I’m excited you’re back.
She giggles under her breath. “You’ve come over every week since I’ve been gone.”
“I know, but working with those two,” I hike my thumb between Lach and Jake, “has been boooring.”
“Hey, I heard that,” Lach says.
I glance behind me. “I wasn’t trying to be quiet.”
From behind, he rests his chin on my shoulder. “If I was gone for a month, you’d miss me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Hardly.” I playfully jab my elbow into his chest.
He chokes out a laugh. “Son of a bitch. I need to find some less violent friends.” He rubs at his chest before wrapping an arm around Rylee. “Glad you’re back.”
“Me too.” She smiles up at him. “Now everyone, get back to work.”
“Listen to the boss.” Jake clasps a hand on her shoulder. “Glad to have you back.”
Rylee and Lach are on the ends while I’m in the middle behind the bar. I grab a frosty pint glass from the cooler and hold it under a tap, pulling the lever down. Once it’s full, I pass it to a customer and pour another. A sliver of sunlight shines in as the front door opens and my gaze drifts up.
A tall, rugged man with dark jeans, a fitted white shirt that accentuates his toned arms, with a tattoo peeking out from beneath the sleeve stands just inside the doorway. A baseball cap is perched on his head, the dark hair spilling out from the sides. His scruff covered jawline rivals any stone statue. He turns my way and pulls the aviators off his face. A half smirk tugs at his lips. Time stops. My breathing stops. Noise stops. Everything stops. All the people in Porter’s disappear. Standing before me is a ghost of a man. One I knew years ago and hoped I would never have to see in person again. My eyes roll back, and my entire world goes black.
Thank you for reading Love Is Ale You Need!