Epilogue
Four months later
Standing on the top rung of a stepladder, I stretch up on tiptoes while I work a screwdriver.
“Steady—” Beau is right behind me, his hand resting on the small of my back. As I climb down the ladder, he guides me, with light fingers on my hips. When I reach the penultimate step, I tumble backward into his arms, and he catches me.
Of course, he does.
I giggle in pure happiness. I’ll never tire of that feeling of trusting him. Of knowing he’s always there to protect me.
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he buries his face in the side of my neck and gives a possessive growl. I shiver in delight, and gaze at the brand-new shop that my amazing mate has created for me.
It’s all white gingerbread trimmings on powder-blue clapboard—the exact same shade as Bertha. It looks good enough to eat. Every inch of it worked on with love. The inside is flooded with light, ivory walls and wooden floors, and plenty of space to display my designs.
Above the darker blue front door, a sign reads, Come a Long Way, Baby.
I picked the name of the store myself. I was worried Beau would think it was dumb, but he said, “it’s perfect. It’s you, Savannah.”
It’s also him—because none of this would’ve happened without his love and support. And that’s why I love it.
Naming the store and attaching the street number has been my sole contribution.
The rest is all Beau. For the last two months, he kept his little project a secret.
Every day, he took me to dress-making school on the back of his motorcycle, then, he came back to Perdue Town and worked on renovating this little store he’d purchased on Main Street.
He took a bunch of photos for me—the little building was real run-down and hadn’t been inhabited for years.
Now, it’s a beautifully restored Victorian boutique.
“Congratulations on your new place, Honey,” Beau says.
I twist around in his arms and pull him down for a kiss. His beard is soft beneath my fingertips and his lips as firm and dreamy as ever. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I say. I still can’t believe it’s real. Can’t believe I have my own place, stocked with my own designs.
Seven days ago, Beau picked me up from school and parked the motorcycle up a couple of streets away.
Then he blindfolded me and led me here. When he finally slipped the blindfold off, it took my poor brain a long while to catch up.
He wasn’t just showing me a ridiculously pretty little building, which stood out in a street of dark, shuttered stores.
It was mine. My own fashion boutique. Created by my mate, just for me.
I burst into tears right there. So much love.
So much care for my happiness and dreams.
Ever since then, my head has been bursting with ideas.
I have a half-dozen prototype dresses ready.
I just signed a contract with a local family-owned factory that will manufacture them for me.
And while I’m growing my collection, I’ll display the stock of other local designers.
Beau is a whiz with the Internet, of course, and he’s already helped me track down some contacts.
We take a bunch of photos of the shop and each other. Beau always has his camera out. Every moment is precious, he says.
I lock the door, with my brand-new key, then we go pick up Bertha. We’re throwing an opening party tomorrow, and we need to go buy some supplies.
All these months later, Bertha is still our home—as well as our transport.
Beau has offered to buy me any mansion, castle or palace I want, in the whole wide world.
But it turns out, nothing makes us happier than living in our little bus.
In time—and definitely when we have cubs—we’ll need someplace bigger.
But for now, sleeping in this little home, with the river tinkling beside us, is all we need.
The following evening, I stand in the doorway of my very own boutique, nervously waiting for people to arrive.
I put a few signs around town, inviting anybody who wants to come.
I also went around and invited all the other businesses on Main Street.
Some people were kinda suspicious, a few were even hostile—as people often are in Perdue Town.
I’m hoping they’ll come around in time, though.
When two tall, statuesque figures appear on the porch, my heart leaps, and I rush out and greet Meredith and her sister, Valeria.
“Told you he was a keeper,” Meredith comments, taking in the building with her shrewd gaze.
“You like it?” I’m fishing for compliments, but I don’t care. I’m so proud of Beau’s work.
“It’s…beautiful. Real beautiful,” she replies, unusually effusively. “He’s done good, that man of yours.”
“He has,” I say happily.
“And you deserve it, hun. All of it.” She sweeps me up in one of her fierce hugs.
My eyes prickle and I blink back tears. “Thank you,” I manage to say. I don’t work at Sinner’s anymore—when I’m not busy with school assignments, Beau demands all my time—but my relationship with Meredith has continued to grow. She’s truly the mother I never had.
Right after Beau claimed me, he tracked down my pack.
Then he asked me if I wanted to visit them, demand to know who my real mom was.
With no hesitation, I said no. It doesn’t matter to me anymore.
Beau’s love fills my heart completely. When I need advice on girl stuff, and mothering, Meredith’s there for me.
And when Elinor and I are both free at the same time, we hang out, gossiping and watching movies.
My whole life is here now, with this little ‘found family’ of mine.
And I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
“It’s a lovely place, dear,” Valeria adds. “I think you’ll be very happy and successful.”
I hug her too, then I show them inside and offer a plate of the cookies I baked in Sinner’s kitchen yesterday.
After that, it gets busy. Turns out all the suspicious folk are also real curious, and plenty of familiar faces from the town shuffle in and poke around the store.
“If you’re not careful, you might create some community spirit here,” Beau growls in my ear, wrapping an arm around my waist.
I grin. “Imagine that, in Perdue—” Then I frown. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“Of course. It’s always gonna be a place where people can come hide from the world if they want. But a little community spirit will make it safer for everyone.”
Elinor arrives after her shift at Sinner’s, accompanied by a bunch of girls from the dorm.
“This is fricking fantastic, Sav!” she exclaims, and the oohs and ahhs from the other girls makes me smile. I’m already planning to donate some sets of clothes to the waifs and strays who arrive at Sinner’s with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.
As more and more people arrive, my eyes keep darting to the door. I’m awaiting two special guests, and the thought fills me with a mixture of nerves and excitement.
At last, two strangers emerge from the twilight. They stand on the porch, taking everything in. I’ve never seen them before in my life, yet I think I’d recognize them anywhere.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with glowing, cornflower-blue eyes.
My stomach fizzing, I turn and look for Beau.
There he is, helping an old lady to a cup of soda. The second he’s done, I grab his hand and haul him to the front door.
“Where’s the fire?” he exclaims, laughing. Then he skids to a stop, his breath catching. I feel the vibrations from his heartbeat as if they’re my own.
“Luke? Mason?” he says at last.
Both men have hard, angular features with a hostile cast, but when the taller of the two smiles, his face transforms.
“Hello, big brother,” he says.
Beau exhales a long breath, takes a step forward, and they’re hugging. Rough, back-slapping man hugs.
I watch, tears springing to my eyes as Beau and his two younger brothers are reunited. Then they’re talking non-stop, catching up on the years. I’m content to stand back and watch it happen.
“You shouldn’t have stayed away, bro,” Luke—the taller one—says. “We missed you, so fucking much.”
“I had to. It’s long story,” Beau replies. “I was in a bad place, for a long time. But now I’m healed.” He reaches for me, draws me into the circle.
“I’m guessing you’ve already been introduced to my beautiful mate?”
“Not in person,” Mason says, shaking my hand. He’s more standoffish than Luke, with a searing, almost feral stare, but I can tell he’s happy to see his brother again.
Leaving them to catch up, I return to the guests, my heart glowing. I was so nervous that something would go wrong, that they wouldn’t make it in time, but it all turned out better than I hoped.
The guys hang out with Beau for an hour or so, then they head to their motel, making plans to catch up tomorrow. I tell Beau it’s fine for him to leave and hang out with them.
“Nope. No way am I leaving you alone on your special night,” he tells me. “There’ll be plenty of time to hang out in future.”
A little thrill goes through me—as I have one more surprise planned for Beau tonight.
“Just tell me one thing,” he says, shaking his head. “How did you track them down?”
“You’re not the only investigator in town, you know?” I wrap my arms around his firm waist. “I might’ve used your equipment to run a few searches.”
He grins and plants kisses on my forehead. “My smart, beautiful, amazing mate.”
“Are you happy I did this?” I ask, a dart of uncertainty hitting me.
“Yup. Very. It’s time,” he says, and I pick up the many shades of emotion in his voice.
It’s gone eleven by the time the last guests tumble out of the door of my little boutique.
“Whew.” Beau locks the door behind us. “Some folks really had a good time tonight.”
“Knew we shouldn’t have given them wine.”
We look at each other, laughing.
Then he takes my hands in his. “I think you brought something real special into people’s lives.”
“I did?” My heart is glowing. I’ve got twenty-one new orders in my order book, and people kept asking about my plans for a made-to-measure range—designed to cater for curvy girls, big bear shifters, and everyone in between.
When I loop my arms around his neck, he lifts me by my waist and spins me around. I love the way he makes me feel so small and delicate in his big arms.
He looks around at the remains of the party. “Shall we close up now and deal with all this tomorrow?” he suggests.
I bite my lip, excitement fizzing in my stomach. “Yes, but I have one design I haven’t showed you yet.”
His eyes light up immediately. “Show me,” he says. And I glow a little bit more. I love the way that he’s not just supportive of my passion, but actively excited, always demanding I show him what I’m working on.
I position a chair in the middle of the shop floor and ask him to take a seat.
With a slightly bemused expression, he complies, and as I run around the store, closing all the drapes, I feel his curious eyes burning into me. Then I turn the lights right down, until a single spotlight is focused on the floor six feet or so in front of him.
“Close your eyes, and don’t move a muscle,” I say. My mouth is a little dry. I’m not used to bossing my big, dominant alpha mate around.
He throws me a good-natured smirk, acknowledging the fact.
Then I dash to the storeroom at the rear of the shop.
When I return five minutes later, I ignore a slight prickle of nerves and hold my head high, put my shoulders back, and focus on walking confidently in my sky-high stilettoes.
I have a mate who loves me; who tells me every day that I’m the sexiest woman in the world, and the knowledge fills me with confidence.
I watch Beau as I approach, wondering if he really kept his eyes shut. But there’s no hint of that burning-sky blue between his eyelashes.
I stop right under the spotlight, trembling with anticipation.
“Open them,” I say.
He opens his eyes, and his jaw drops. Literally.
“Wow,” he breathes.
As his gaze rakes me up and down, the raw passion on his face fires my own desire.
“Like it?”
“Uh huh,” he growls, and I see his cock is already hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans.
Being desired by this big, sexy guy is intoxicating. I never in a million years imagined I’d the kind of girl who’d flirt like this. But right now, I feel like a goddess.
“Turn around,” he growls, making a circling motion with his finger.
So, I do. I circle around slowly, treating him to a full three-sixty.
“You made them,” he says, in a hoarse voice.
I break into a smile. “I did.”
The lace-top stockings I bought from a store, but the bra, slip, panties and garter belt I made myself, in cherry-red lace and satin.
“It’s a prototype, but I think it turned out pretty well.”
His Adam’s apple bobs and he licks his lips. “You can say that again.” He slaps his hands down on his knees. “C’mere.”
I sashay over to him, basking in his attention. Arousal swirls through me, turning my nipples to hard, little pebbles and lighting a fire between my thighs. I lay my hands on his shoulders, and let my hair fall into his face while I wiggle my hips, just a little bit.
He groans and his hands land on my ass cheeks with a resounding slap. “Beautiful,” he growls. He draws me closer, and I straddle his lap until I’m sitting down, my aching clit riding his cock. Beau runs his hands all over the satin and lace, sounds of pleasure escaping his lips.
My concept is for a whole range of lingerie for curvy girls, that has a soft, luxurious look and feel. And by his reaction, I’ve succeeded.
“Think they’ve been on for long enough, though,” he says.
He slides the silky slip over my head, then he unclips my bra.
The panties have naughty little ties at the sides—because I designed them with sex in mind.
He unfastens them with deft fingers and they fall away.
And there I am, naked on his lap, in just a garter belt, stockings and spike heels.
“Wish you could see how sexy you look right now,” he mutters, his eyes burning with yearning.
“I can see you, and that’s all I need,” I whisper. I tug on his shirt, dragging it up and off, and then I reach for his zipper. While he’s busy worshipping my breasts, I guide his rock-hard cock inside me. And as I ride my incredible mate to heaven, I know I’ll never forget this moment.
THE END