Epilogue #3
Around us, people are laughing, chatting, and having a great time. The energy is infectious, and I find myself smiling more than I thought possible.
I catch sight of Ivy dancing with someone, a young man, a friend of Tristan’s.
She’s clearly enjoying herself, and the guy she’s with seems to be trying his best to keep up with her lively energy.
There’s a real warmth in her expression that makes me happy.
She’s having a great time, which is exactly what I hoped for her.
But just as I’m about to turn my attention back to Tristan, Beckett appears, a stormy look on his face.
He’s determined, and there’s an edge of protectiveness in his stride.
Without hesitation, he steps in, practically pushing Ivy’s dance partner aside and taking her hand with an air of possessive confidence.
I raise an eyebrow and smirk to myself as Beckett pulls Ivy into his arms. It’s clear that he’s been waiting for his chance, and now he’s taking it. Ivy’s eyes widen with surprise, then soften into a smile, and it’s obvious she’s perfectly comfortable with the interruption.
I lean closer to Tristan, whispering, “Looks like Beckett made his move.”
Tristan chuckles softly, his eyes tracking Beckett and Ivy with amusement. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. I think he’s been waiting for the right moment. Ivy seems to be enjoying it, though.”
I watch as Beckett and Ivy dance together, their chemistry undeniable. Tristan’s gaze, however, moves on, sliding to the edge of the crowd. His steps falter as he makes a noise under his breath.
“What’s wrong?”
He breathes a heavy sigh. “That.” He gestures with his chin, and I follow his gaze to see Gabriel at the edge of the crowd, talking to a young woman. His bride-to-be, I realize with a start.
Gabriel’s arms are folded, his expression cool, professional, and totally closed off. The poor girl, Alexis Beaumont, looks wide-eyed and nervous. She says something to Gabriel, and his lips move in reply, but the exchange is visibly stilted.
“Oh.” I wince slightly, biting my lip. “I see.”
“I hope like hell my mother knows what she’s doing,” Tristan mutters.
“I hope so too,” I whisper. I’ve come to really love the Thorne family. I love how close Tristan has become with his brothers in the aftermath of their father’s death. I don’t want to see any cracks in that foundation, especially when things seem to be falling into place.
“She’s following my father’s instructions, but it’s not like she has to,” Tristan says. “If she thought this would be a disaster, she could always put her foot down.”
“But it doesn’t seem like she’s planning on it.”
Tristan shakes his head, his eyes dark. “No, it doesn’t.”
I watch Gabriel step away from Alexis and move onto the dance floor. Peyton comes running up to him, giggling. He grabs her and scoops her into the air. Meanwhile, Alexis lingers in the background, her arms wrapped around her torso despite the warmth in the evening air.
“Gabriel’s got a lot on his plate,” Tristan says, more to himself than to me. “But this is important. We need everyone on board if we’re going to make this work.”
I nod along, biting my lip. I don’t want to see Gabriel get hurt, but it’s hard to imagine how that union will possibly work out.
“Maybe there’s a method to the madness,” Tristan says, turning his attention back to me. His gaze is full of love. Right away, I’m drawn in, forgetting all about the uncertainty of Gabriel’s situation.
“Maybe,” I echo. “I mean… so far, so good. Right?”
Tristan pulls me closer, and the world narrows to the feel of his arms around me and the rhythm of our dancing. The soft sway of our bodies, the soft glow of the string lights above us, and the sound of waves crashing nearby create a bubble of calm.
“I’m so fucking glad to be married to you,” he murmurs as I lean into his chest. “My beautiful wife.”
I hum in agreement, inhaling his scent. “I never imagined how wonderful it could be.”
Tristan’s breath is warm on my neck as he leans down to whisper in my ear. “So. Tonight, once this is all over… would you rather be fucked like a queen, like a goddess, or like my perfect little slut?”
A shiver runs through me at his filthy words, and I press my thighs together involuntarily. Tristan’s arms tighten around me, sensing my reaction, and he tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing against the top of my ear.
“Why not all three?” I shoot back, unable to hide my grin.
His eyes darken with raw, unfiltered desire. “That’s my girl.”
As we continue moving over the dance floor, his fingers rub a slow circle over the exposed skin of my back, the purposeful touch sending another shiver through me. I lean into him, my breath catching as the heat between us grows.
His lips find the curve of my neck, planting soft, teasing kisses. “You’re incredible,” he breathes. “I can’t wait to show you just how fucking much I love you.”
I let out a soft, contented sigh, savoring the moment and the promise of what’s to come. “Yeah?”
He nips at my earlobe. “Abso-fucking-lutely, dimples. Trust me. I plan to worship you all night long.”