Epilogue
DELANEY
My favorite trope?
When the hero uses my wife, like it’s sacred, sexy, and carries the weight of a thousand words across countries, continents, and centuries.
—Delaney’s Secret Thoughts
Badass Book Club
Lexie
I like the new book, Dillan. The hero is hot.
Lucky
But not as hot as me, right?
Lexie
They never are, honey.
Kaleigh
The heroine is a boss bitch. I love her.
Ashton
You love every heroine.
Kaleigh
Not true. I didn’t love the whiney twat who wanted to fuck both brothers last year. Don’t be greedy and don’t fuck up a family while you’re at it.
Dillan
Maybe not one of my better choices.
Jamie
Did they have boss bitches before electricity?
Ryker
Why not? They had fae and witches, and they’re both pretty badass.
Delaney
Fae, huh? Do I need to get a pair of pointy ears?
Kaleigh
I might know where you can get a pair.
Ryker
Really?
Delaney
OMG, seriously?
Ryker
I mean, it’s not my favorite trope.
Hendrix
Oh yeah, dipshit. What’s your favorite trope?
Delaney
I know. I know.
Kaleigh
Then share with the class.
Ryker
Bambi . . .
Delaney
Ryker loves spicy lessons.
“You little brat.” My husband throws a grape from the charcuterie board at my head. “The guys are never going to let me live that down.”
“It’s true though, isn’t it?” I ask and sign as I press my lips to his and grab another grape.
I’ve worked hard on my ASL over the past year and use it constantly now.
Well . . . unless my husband wants to wrap his hand around my throat to feel me instead.
But that’s a whole different kind of thing.
“In fact, I’m pretty sure you owe me a new lesson. ”
“Bambi . . . I’m not sure you’ve got anything left to learn.” His hand slides down my back and squeezes my ass. “Not that I’m not willing to play a little bit with our curriculum.”
“Principessa, come taste the sauce,” Nonna yells from the kitchen, and I smile against Ryker’s lips.
“I have to go taste the sauce.”
He sips his wine and smiles before looking outside at his parents and Maverick, Emmie, and the kids.
I’m not sure I thought I’d ever have this.
A family to share my life with. Dinners at our house have become a regular thing.
We’ve basically rotated between our house and Mav’s since the season ended.
“Principessa.” Nonna smiles as she walks into the dining room, her wooden spoon in hand. “The tomatoes came from your garden. So did the garlic, onions, and peppers. Come. Stir the sauce so you can officially claim this as your own.”
“Go,” Ryker mouths to me, and I shake my head.
Making sure to angle my body to block my hands from Nonna’s view, I smile. “Hope you’re working on an impressive lesson plan, Mr. Beneventi.”
Then, without giving him time to answer, I walk away.
“The sauce is delicious, Nonna,” Bash tells his grandmother, and I can’t help but smile as her blue eyes beam with pride.
“It was all Delaney,” she lies. She did most of the work, as always. She just likes to let Emmie and me take the credit when we can.
“I helped too,” Rosie announces. “I rendered the fat from the pancetta for us to roast the garlic.”
Our little Rosie has absolutely no idea what pancetta is. One day, when she learns the truth, she may actually kill us all. But in the meantime, Tori and her BFF, Butters, roll in the grass, taking turns destroying my roses. I swear that pig is lucky I love her.
“Have you thought any more about school, Lane?” Lenny asks as she sniffs the beautiful wildflower centerpiece Rosie and I picked from my garden earlier.
Ryker takes my hand in his under the table and sets it on his lap as he leans in and brushes a kiss over my temple.
This man is the most supportive man I could ever have dreamed to love.
“Actually, yes.” I went back and forth all year, deciding what I wanted to do.
I loved designing our landscaping. Picking the flowers and shrubs and trees .
. . playing with the colors and shapes and seasons.
It was amazing. But it turns out, while it’s something I love doing, I’d rather do it for myself than for other people.
I want to continue to enjoy being in my garden and watching what I plant come to life.
But I don’t want to make a career out of it.
So I decided to look into something else.
Something more meaningful.
Something, after having spent nearly a year in therapy myself, I realized could make a difference in people’s lives.
“I’ve been accepted into an accelerated program through Kroydon University. It’s a five-year program, and at the end of five years, I’ll come out with a masters degree in psychology and a certification in counseling. I’d like to work with abuse victims.”
“What’s an abuse victim?” Rosie asks, her nose scrunched up as her baby sister, Violet, decides to let out an ear-piercing scream.
“Well, little Rose,” Ryker takes Violet from Maverick’s arms, and my ovaries melt as he cuddles the beautiful baby girl to his strong chest. “Not everyone is lucky enough to live the charmed lives we do. They don’t all have great homes, and they don’t all have great parents.
And sometimes, bad things happen and people need someone to talk to about that. ”
Rosie looks from Ryker to her parents. “So kinda like how you work with athletes to help them with their stuff, Aunt Lane is going to help other people with theirs too?”
“Yes, little Rose. That’s exactly right,” her mother tells her and kisses the top of Rosie’s head right before she winks at me.
Emmie has helped me so much over the past year.
She’s been working as a sports psychologist for a few years now while she earns her doctorate.
That one might take her a little longer, considering she’s taken some time off with Violet.
“I want to help people when I grow up. Just like Mommy and Aunt Lane and Pop.” She looks over at Lenny and the guys. “We’ll let Violet do the football stuff.”
God, I want to raise our children in this kind of world.
The one where they’re loved and confident and have the belief they can do anything they want because they’ll have the support of their family behind them.
Ryker wraps his arms around me from behind as I stack the last glass in the dishwasher and turn it on. “Thank you for always being down for family dinner, Bambi. I love how much you’ve embraced our family.”
I lean my head back against his chest and lift my lips to his jaw. “It’s a pretty amazing family, Ryker. I never thought I’d get to be a part of something like this. Now I couldn’t imagine my life any other way.”
Stepping out of his hold, I spin to face him and just stare at this beautiful man I get to call mine. “Have I told you just how sexy it is to see you holding Violet?”
“No. But I’m happy to be objectified by you at any time, baby.”
“Good. Because I think in a few months, I’ll be objectifying you on a pretty consistent basis.”
“Have I told you how hot it is that your ASL has gotten so good, you know the sign for objectify?” He lifts a brow, teasing, then freezes. “Wait—how many months, Lane?”
My smile stretches, and my heart settles deep in my chest. “A little less than nine.”
“Delaney . . . What are you saying?”
I gather Ryker’s face in my hands, locking my eyes on his. “Consider this step one in the old and gray and surrounded by grandbabies plan.”
He scoops me into his arms, his laughter echoing throughout the house. “I will love you with my whole heart until my last breath, Lane. Then I’ll find you again and love you in that life too.”
I kiss the shell of his ear. “Forever, Ryker.”
“Forever, Bambi.”
The End.