Epilogue #3
“You’re so sneaky. How did you get here when our boat was still moored over there?”
“I got a lift with Bill. What are you doing?”
I pause. “Getting naked,” I say in a d’oh voice and carry on stripping, throwing a few things for good measure.
I ignore the fact that my boxers are now hanging from the light fitting and slide open the glass door of the huge shower enclosure.
I pause there, taking his beloved face in. “You’re really here.”
His whole face softens. “And so are you, darling.”
I step into the cubicle, feeling the rainfall shower soak me instantly. I’ve never been gladder that we bought such a huge shower than I am now, as I step into his arms and feel them band tightly around me.
“I missed you so much,” I say frantically. I try to tell him more of how I’ve felt, but he stops the torrent of my words by kissing me.
My thoughts stop instantly, and we sway together, kissing as the water flows over us.
Our tongues tangle, and I feel the weight of his cock against mine, the strength of his arms, and the heat of his body.
Eventually, the need for air separates us, and I grin up at him, twining my hands behind his neck.
“Well, hello , Mr Reilly.”
He shakes his head, his eyes intent on my face as if he hasn’t seen me in years and needs to itemise my appearance. “It’s Mac to you and always will be.”
I kiss him again for that and pout when he puts me away.
However, I notice he hasn’t let me go far, his hands on my hips clutching tight.
I reach up and tug on the beard he grew recently.
The black hairs feel tickly against my skin.
The beard suits him—highlighting those blue eyes and making him look dashing. “My pirate.”
A wry expression crosses his face. “A rather pathetic pirate. All I own is that ridiculous rowing boat you made me buy last week.”
“You’d still find some way to plunder,” I say affectionately. “You’d probably have a flotilla of boats by Friday.”
He drags me close, burying his head in my neck and blowing a raspberry that makes me shriek with laughter. “I missed you.” He raises one hand to push the wet mass of my hair back. “So fucking much .”
“I missed you too.”
“We’re not doing this again.”
“And how will you make that happen, my lord and master?”
“I’ve put in a new manager in the Paris office, and Jimmy is going to move out there and oversee it.”
Jimmy is Mac’s second in charge. He’s a quiet man with an undoubtable knack for getting things to go his and Mac’s way. “That’s a good choice. Does he mind?”
He shakes his head. “The divorce is getting him down, so he’s glad of a change of scenery, which is a relief because otherwise, I’d have sold the whole office and never looked back.”
I gape at him. “You’d have sold the Paris office? But your godfather set that up.”
He turns off the shower, steps out, grabs a towel, and gestures to me to join him. I obey, and he starts to dry me, ignoring his own wet body. His touch is tender and almost reverent, and I smile, helplessly in love with him as always.
“I don’t think you understand how important to me you are,” he says softly. “I’m not going to lose you. You’re far more important than any office.”
I stay his hands, smiling up at him. “Babe, spending three weeks away is not going to break us.”
“You won’t always say that. I’m never going to give you a reason to doubt me. To doubt us.”
I take his face in my hands and stare into his eyes. “It’s never going to happen,” I say firmly. I kiss his nose, ignoring his grimace.
“Must you do that?” He sighs but can’t help the smile in his eyes.
“Yes, I really must. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I happen to like your chronic untidiness and scattered thinking.”
“Are we actually talking about me or you?”
“And your habit of never replacing the butter in the dish,” I say, talking over him.
“That one is also you.”
I ignore him, taking a towel from the heated rack and drying him while he makes mumbled protests. His hair is longer than usual, softening the stark bone structure. I pull back. “There, done. Are you okay now?”
He rolls his eyes. “Do we have to talk as though I am a child?”
“You are alarmingly similar to my cousin’s little boy who conceals his misdemeanours by simply focusing on everyone else’s faults.”
His mouth twitches. “And how does he work through that?”
“Well, last week, he shoved another kid off the slide, but I wouldn’t recommend that violent solution in your company.”
“I have zero desire to be put on the naughty step.”
I smack his firm arse and stop to give it a quick grope. “Your bottom would cushion the surface.”
He starts to laugh, the sound much less rusty than it used to be, but still with the power to stop me in my tracks. “Are you saying I’ve got a big arse?”
“All the better for me to kiss it, baby.” I eye him. “Feeling better now?” I ask.
He leans against the counter. “I just have zero desire to go through a divorce like Jimmy. Can you blame me?”
“Erm, we’re not married. Has that slipped your mind?” A funny look crosses his face. “Mac?”
He gives me a crooked smile. “Hold that thought.”
“What are you doing?” He doesn’t answer, and I gape as he lowers himself to his knees.
Realisation dawns, and I shoot him a naughty grin.
“Now you’re talking,” I say approvingly, unfastening the towel at my hips and letting it fall to the floor.
He blinks as I turn around and thrust my bum at him.
“You have the best ideas, and rimming is the greatest of all of them,” I say, grinning at him over my shoulder.
“Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. ”
His lip twitches as he stares up at me, his hands holding my calves. “Unfortunately, that wasn’t one of them.”
“Well, while you’re down there. It seems a shame to waste the opportunity,” I say mildly.
He starts to laugh. “What is so funny?” My lips twitch as he laughs helplessly, his face creased in amusement, leaning his head against my leg as he chortles.
“I had no idea I was such a comedian. I obviously need to take this show on the road.”
His laughter slowly dies to chuckles, and he looks up at me. On his face is love and a deep, abiding affection. He’s beautiful to me, so I turn around in his arms and stroke his hair back. “I’m laughing because I’m not on my knees to rim you,” he says steadily.
“There’s a first time for everything. You love doing that.”
“I do, but not on this occasion.”
His voice is suddenly serious, and my heart starts to hammer at the intent look on his face. “And what is this occasion?” I whisper.
He studies me for a long few seconds. “Look behind you. There’s a small box by the soap.”
I turn and see the box. It’s red velvet. I swallow hard. “Mac?”
“Take the box. Open it.”
I do as he says. My hands are shaking so hard that it takes me a couple tries to open the box.
“Do you need a hand?” he asks from the floor.
“Shut up.” The box opens. “Oh, Mac ,” I whisper.
“Look at me.”
It’s said in a low voice, and I spin around, still holding the box. “This is a ring.”
“It’s actually a wedding ring, darling.”
“Oh my god.” I take a closer look at it. “Is this my fake wedding ring?”
His mouth twitches. “I was tempted to get you one covered with diamonds so the whole world would know you’re mine.”
“But?”
“But we already know that fact, and I knew you were attached to this one.”
I swallow hard. “You were right. It’s very special to me.”
He turns suddenly serious. “I love you, Wes. With everything that I am, I love you. Every bone, every muscle, every sinew of me is yours. I’ve never wanted anyone like you, never dreamed I could have anyone like you.
You bring me peace and make me laugh. You’ve made me who I am today—the man kneeling before you, trying to propose and not laugh simultaneously.
Just you and only you. So, will you marry me? ”
I swallow hard, but I can’t stop the tear from sliding down my face. “Yes,” I whisper. “If you asked me that question until the end of days, I would always answer yes.”
His eyebrow quirks. “Even when I tell you to tidy up because we’re not running a council tip?”
I snort and wipe my face. “Even then. Always then.”
We stare at each other, and his eyebrows rise. “Going to put it on?”
“I thought I’d leave that to you.”
I hold out my hand and watch as, head down, he focuses on sliding the ring onto my finger. The plain gold band slides on like a knife through butter. He stays there, looking down at it. “Mac?”
When he looks up, his eyes are wet. “Thank you,” he says solemnly. “You’ve made me very happy.” He pauses and says so earnestly that it hurts my heart, “You always make me happy.”
I wipe my face again, and sliding my arms around him, I pull him to his feet and kiss him.
It’s a soft kiss and completely unlike any other kisses we’ve had.
We’ve had rough kisses, loving kisses, and sleepy kisses where our lips just brush in that first moment of waking up, but I realise this one… this is a promise kiss.
I pull back, and we stare at each other. “Hello, fiancé,” I finally say. He immediately grimaces. “Well, what should I call you then? Fusband? Fubby?”
He rolls his eyes. “And once more, the sentiment has gone. Thank you very much, Wes.”
“Has it?”
He smiles and pulls me close. “Never.”
“And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you proposed naked,” I say tartly into his chest. He smells clean and warm and just Mac. I tighten my hold on him, and despite making an exaggerated grunt, he complies, and we hold each other while I admire the gleam on my finger.
“I’ve always been naked with you,” he says suddenly.
I look up. “What do you mean?”
“There’s something about you, Wes, that has always stripped me bare.”
“Is that as painful as your current expression is indicating?”
He cocks his head. “Sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, because it’s also a pleasure that goes right down to my bones.”
“Same,” I whisper.
He steps back. “So, how are we going to spend our engagement evening?”
I grin at him. “I vote we go naked to bed, fuck around, and then get a takeaway.”
He starts to laugh. “You have the best ideas, Wes.”
“You didn’t say that when I said we’d look after Fox’s puppy for the week.”
“I wonder why. That dog is even more feral than its owner.”
We tumble into the cool sheets of our big bed, and I immediately roll into his open arms. Snuggling close, I wrap myself around him like an octopus, not missing his sigh of satisfaction.
Then he stiffens and lifts my arm where a row of purpling bruises are coming up. “What the hell , Wes? Where did these come from?”
“Paintball,” I say wearily and his mouth twitches.
“Ah, yes. How was it?”
“It’s very hard to play paintball when you’re competitive but know you’ve got to pull your punches because the chap who does your yearly review is standing opposite.”
“Oh dear.”
“He’s just lucky he never played with me and Tyler.”
“Correct. I’ve witnessed you playing tennis together. It’s like two gorillas with rackets.”
I look across the room at the window opposite the huge oak bed. It looks down the river where twilight is casting shadows across the water. “You were right about putting the bed here.”
“I think I have the best ideas,” he says, hugging me tight and relaxing into the pillows with a sigh of weariness.
He sneaks me a look full of affection and so much love it makes me feel weak.
“But my best by far is when I glanced across the room that night and took for myself the young man who couldn’t seem to turn off his mouth muscles and was fidgeting so badly I thought at first he’d been the victim of electrocution. ”
I snort. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“You were bright and bold, and I wanted you more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He shrugs. “Like I said—the best ideas.”
Later, when he’s asleep, worn out by travelling and some rather spectacular sex, I snuggle into him, loving the feel of his body against mine.
The bed seemed like an ocean without him.
I admire his long nose and the beauty of his face softened by sleep.
“I love you,” I whisper. “Only you. For always .”
His nose wrinkles, but he doesn’t wake. Instead, he makes a soft sound, and his arm tightens around me.
I lay my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and admiring the ring on my finger.
His earlier words have stirred memories, and I smile thinking of that night we met—the serious man at the poker table with the blue eyes and the confusing emotions he stirred up in me.
They’re not confusing anymore, because I know they’re love.
I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I think sometimes you meet someone who’s meant for you.
And Mac is that person for me. We started as a mess, albeit a very pretty one, and maybe a small part of us will always be that.
But we’re our pretty mess, with all our sharp angles and edges that somehow mesh perfectly.
And I would move the world to keep that safe.
I kiss his chest and snuggle in. Then I drift into sleep, safe and happy.