Epilogue
Triton heldup his glass of champagne and clinked it against mine. “Happy Honeymoon, Sugar Pie.”
I wasn’t much of a drinker, but loved the way the tiny bubbles tickled my nose as I took a sip and let it slide down the back of my throat.
“Thank you.” I smiled at the man sitting next to me.
“For what?”
I didn’t know where to begin. “For showing me what it feels like to be loved. For putting up with my family. For being the man I didn’t know I needed.” I set my glass down and reached for his hands. “For everything.”
His skin turned pink underneath his beard. “It’s a privilege to be your man, and one I don’t take for granted.”
I leaned over and tilted my head. He met me halfway in one of his searing kisses that always stole my breath away.
“You look beautiful tonight.” Always ready with a compliment, I basked underneath his praise every single time.
“Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” I smoothed my palm over the lapel of his suit jacket. He’d traded in his cut for the night to adhere to the restaurant’s dress code and it was the first time I’d seen him so dressed up. Even at our wedding, he’d worn his leather jacket and a pair of jeans. I’d worn one of the sundresses that drove him wild. There hadn’t been a dress code required at the little white wedding chapel where we’d eloped a few weeks ago in Las Vegas.
“So, is it true?” Triton tilted his head back and looked up at the Eiffel Tower stretching hundreds of feet above us. “Is Paris really the most romantic city in the world?”
It seemed like a lifetime ago since we’d had that conversation in The Roasted Bean on the first day we met. If someone had told me that day that I was meeting the man I would spend the rest of my life with, I would have laughed in their face.
What I didn’t know then was that love always found a way. We’d been through so much over the past year, but Triton had been my constant. He’d built a ramp for my dad to get into the house when we found out he’d be coming home in a wheelchair. He’d arranged for members of the Rebel Hearts to stop by a few times a week to check on my parents after we’d moved to Austin so I could finish my senior year. He’d even learned how to play chess so he and my dad would have a shared interest. Little by little he’d won over my parents so that when he asked for their blessing to propose to me, my dad had freely given it.
“You know what I think?” I circled back to the question he’d asked.
“Tell me.”
I scooted my chair closer to his. “I think the most romantic city in the world is wherever we are together. So tonight, yes, Paris is by far the most romantic city in the world.”
His lips spread into a wide smile. “I think you’re a brilliant woman, wife.”
“Mmm, I like it when you call me that.” Being his wife was everything I’d hoped it would be and more.
“How would you like someone to call you Mommy?” He arched a brow. We’d continued to use birth control while I finished college, but I knew he was eager to start a family.
“You don’t think it’s too soon? I’ve only been out of school for a few weeks. With the wedding and our honeymoon, shouldn’t we wait a few more months?”
“Sugar Pie, I’m going to put a baby in that belly before we leave Paris.” He dug into the crème br?lée our server had delivered to our table a few minutes before and held his fork up to my lips.
“You sound pretty confident about that.” I opened my mouth and sighed as the combination of vanilla custard and caramelized sugar floated across my tongue.
“It’s happening. Do we need to bet on it?”
“No. We never even finished the first one.” I laughed. “No more bets.”
“Why not? It got you to Paris.”
I took his fork from him and prepped another bite of dessert. “Fine. Humor me. What are the stakes?”
“If you’re not pregnant by the time we get on the flight to go home, we’ll have to join the mile high club.” He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug.
“You’re not serious.” He’d proven to be pretty adventurous during sex. We’d even done it at the top of the Ferris wheel at a county fair this spring.
“Try me.”
“And if I am pregnant by the time we leave Paris?” We only had five more days in the city. Then we’d head out on a week-long motorcycle ride. Triton had been researching the best rides in the area. I was all for it as long as we got to sleep on a real bed every night and had access to running water.
“If you are, we may as well join the mile club anyway.” He scooped up the last bite and held it out to me.
“Are you sure you don’t want this?”
“I’d rather taste it on you.” His eyes darkened as he watched me slide the fork into my mouth and pull it out clean.
Then he moved his hand up to cup the back of my neck while his thumb put just the right amount of pressure on my throat. His lips sought mine and even the majesty of the Eiffel Tower looming over us faded away.
My dad once said Triton had ruined me, but he’d been wrong.
Triton was the one who’d saved me.
We’d saved each other.