Epilogue
SERAPHINA
The vineyard looks completely different in daylight.
Gone are the pulsing red lights, the ominous shadows, the sense of being hunted through an endless maze.
In their place are rolling hills of dormant grapevines, their gnarled branches reaching toward a pale blue February sky.
The sun is warm on my face as Luke leads me through the rows, our fingers intertwined.
"The Chardonnay vines are over there," he says, pointing toward the eastern slope. "And the Pinot Noir is on the hill behind the cottage. Marcus said the previous owners won some regional awards."
We've been walking for almost an hour, exploring every corner of our new property.
The cottage on the hill is small but charming—two bedrooms, a stone fireplace, a kitchen that needs updating but has good bones.
Luke has already started making plans for renovation, talking about knocking out walls and adding a deck with a view of the valley.
I let him talk, content to listen, to imagine the life we'll build here.
Black heart balloons are still scattered throughout the vineyard, caught on trellis posts and tangled in branches. They've lost most of their helium overnight, drooping sadly instead of bobbing with menace. In the daylight, they look almost silly—deflated remnants of last night's elaborate game.
"We should probably clean those up," I say, nodding toward a cluster caught in a particularly gnarled old vine.
"Later." Luke tugs me closer, wrapping an arm around my waist. "I kind of like seeing them. Reminds me of last night."
"Which part of last night?" I tease. "The part where you hunted me like prey, or the part where I drugged you and tied you up?"
"Both." He grins down at me, his green eyes warm in the afternoon light. "All of it. Every single second."
We round a corner, and I stop short.
The trellis post is unmistakable—thick and weathered, wrapped in old grapevines, positioned at the intersection of two rows. Even without the red lights casting it in crimson shadows, I recognize it instantly.
This is where he caught me. Where he tied me with vines and made me come while I was helpless against the rough wood.
Heat floods through me at the memory.
"Seraphina?" Luke is watching me, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "See something you recognize?"
"You know damn well I do." I pull away from him and approach the post, running my fingers over the rough bark. There are still fragments of vine clinging to it—the same vines he used to bind my wrists. "I can't believe you tied me up with actual grape vines."
"They seemed thematically appropriate." He comes up behind me, his hands settling on my hips. "Besides, you didn't seem to mind at the time."
I didn't. God help me, I really didn't.
"You know," I say slowly, an idea forming, "this post has some interesting memories attached to it."
"It does."
"Memories of you in control. You calling the shots. You making me beg."
"Also true." His voice has dropped lower, responding to something in my tone.
I spin in his arms and push—hard. He stumbles backward, caught off guard, his back hitting the post with a satisfying thud.
"What the—"
I step into his space, pressing my body against his, pinning him to the wood. "I think this post needs some new memories. Don't you?"
His eyes darken, and I feel his cock twitch against my hip. Even after last night—after everything we did—he still wants me. The knowledge is heady.
"Are you ambushing me again?" he asks, but he's not fighting. His hands have come up to grip my waist, holding me against him.
"Consider it a preview." I rise up on my toes to brush my lips against his ear. "Next time, I'm planning the whole thing. You won't know when, you won't know where, and you definitely won't know what's coming."
"Is that a threat, Mrs. Morrison?"
"It's a promise." I bite his earlobe, and he groans. "You've had your fun hunting me. The pumpkin patch, the tree farm, now the vineyard. Three elaborate scenarios where I was the prey."
"You enjoyed being prey," he points out.
"I did." I pull back to meet his eyes. "But I also enjoyed last night. Being in control. Making you beg. Watching you come apart because of something I did."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying it's my turn." I press harder against him, feeling his arousal grow. "Next time—our anniversary, maybe, or your birthday, or just some random Tuesday when you least expect it—I'm going to plan something. Something elaborate. Something that will blow your mind."
"And I'll be the prey?" He sounds intrigued, not resistant.
"You'll be whatever I want you to be." I kiss him—hard, claiming, nothing like the soft kisses we shared this morning. "Think you can handle that?"
"I think," he says against my mouth, "that I'm the luckiest man alive."
We kiss against the post until we're both breathless, until my body is aching for more and his hands are wandering to places that would be inappropriate in broad daylight. Finally, reluctantly, I pull back.
"Save it," I tell him, putting a hand on his chest when he tries to follow. "We have a whole vineyard to explore."
"We could explore it later," he suggests, his voice rough. "After."
"Patience, husband." I step back, smoothing down my clothes. "Isn't that what you always tell me?"
He laughs, shaking his head. "You're going to be the death of me."
"Probably." I hold out my hand. "But what a way to go."
He takes my hand, and we continue our exploration.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a happy blur.
Luke shows me the winemaking facility—a large barn filled with stainless steel tanks and oak barrels—and explains the basics of viticulture that he's apparently been researching for months.
We find the original property markers, discover a hidden creek at the edge of the acreage, and stumble across an old stone bench overlooking the valley that's perfect for watching sunsets.
By the time we make our way back to the cottage, the sun is dipping toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
"There's a porch swing," I notice, pointing to the cottage's front deck. "Did you know about that?"
"I did not." Luke climbs the steps and tests the swing, making sure it's stable. "But I approve."
We settle onto the swing together, my head on his shoulder, his arm around me. The vineyard spreads out before us, endless acres of potential and possibility.
"Thank you. For all of this." I gesture at the vineyard, the cottage, the sunset.
"Not just the property, although that's insane and I'm still not over it.
But for..." I search for the right words.
"For being someone I can play with. For trusting me enough to let me surprise you.
For not being threatened when I turned the tables. "
"Thank you for turning them," he says softly.
We sit in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink lower. The sky deepens to purple, and the first stars begin to appear.
"Same time next year?" Luke asks eventually.
"Valentine's Day in the vineyard?" I consider it. "Absolutely. But I'm serious about planning it myself. You've had three scenarios. It's my turn."
"I believe you." He sounds amused and intrigued. "Should I be scared?"
"Terrified." I tip my head up to look at him.
"I look forward to it." He leans down for a soft kiss.
"We should go inside," I murmur. "It's getting cold."
"In a minute." He tightens his arms around me. "I just want to stay here a little longer. Looking at our vineyard. Holding my wife."
Our vineyard. My wife.
"I love you," I tell him, because it's true and because I can, because we have a whole lifetime to say it and I never want to waste an opportunity.
"I love you too." He presses his forehead against mine. "Forever and always."
We sit there on the porch swing, wrapped around each other, watching stars appear one by one above our vineyard. The black heart balloons are invisible in the darkness now, but I know they're still there, scattered throughout the vines like remnants of a beautiful nightmare.
Tomorrow, we'll clean them up. We'll start making plans for the cottage renovation, research viticulture, figure out what kind of life we want to build in this place.
But tonight, we just exist. Two people who found each other, who love each other, and who play games that would make most people blush.
We have forever together.