Bonus Chapter
DELANEY
They go quiet.
Not all at once. Not dramatically.
Just… a hush that ripples through the room like everyone forgot how to breathe at the same time.
I’m standing on the rug in Wild Reverie’s home, barefoot, heart pounding, wearing a dress that somehow feels like it was waiting for me long before I ever knew to look for it.
Ivy is the first to break the silence.
“Oh,” she says. “Oh no. That’s unfair.”
Olivia presses a hand to her mouth. “Delaney.”
Sloane just stares. One hand braced on the vanity. The other resting unconsciously on the small curve of her three-month pregnant stomach. Her eyes shine, already glossy. “You look like… like you stepped out of a love song.”
I glance down at myself, suddenly overwhelmed.
The dress is simple and soft and very me. Nothing stiff. Nothing showy. Lace at the bodice, delicate straps, a skirt that moves when I breathe. It doesn’t feel armor or costume.
“I’m going to cry,” I say weakly.
Ivy snorts. “Too late.”
She shifts her new baby higher against her shoulder and beams at me as if she personally manifested this entire life. He’s only a few weeks old, tiny and warm and perfect, making little sleepy noises like he has no idea how much joy he’s already caused.
“I can’t believe this is you,” Ivy says softly. “Married. On a ranch. With three men who would absolutely commit crimes for you.”
“Violence adjacent,” Olivia corrects.
“Romantically,” Ivy agrees.
Sloane laughs, then wipes under her eyes. “Roman cried when he saw Boone this morning.”
“I believe that,” I say.
“Creed cried harder,” she adds. “Ezra didn’t cry but stared into the distance like he was composing a symphony.”
I laugh, shaky and breathless, and let myself look at them.
My people.
Women who know my past. Who saw me arrive broken and unsure and scared of my own shadow. Who watched me fall in love anyway.
“You’re glowing,” Olivia says. “Like… settled glowing. Not ‘new relationship panic’ glowing.”
“That’s because she’s marrying the right people,” Ivy says firmly. “Plural.”
There’s a knock at the door.
“Don’t come in,” Ivy yells automatically.
Silas’s voice filters through anyway. “I brought snacks and emotional support!”
“Go away,” Sloane shouts.
“Love you,” Silas replies cheerfully, retreating.
I take a deep breath.
Okay.
This is happening.
The ceremony is under the big oak by the pasture, sunlight filtering through leaves. Wild Reverie plays softly as I walk out, acoustic and intimate. Roman’s voice carries on the breeze.
Everyone is there.
The town. The family we built. Faces that were once strangers and now feel like anchors.
Sadie stands at the front in a flower crown that’s slipping sideways, hands clasped, vibrating with excitement. When she sees me, her face lights up so bright it nearly knocks the air out of my lungs.
Boone is holding himself together by sheer force of will. His eyes are bright, jaw tight, hands clenched and unclenched. He doesn’t trust himself not to reach for me early.
Caleb’s smile is quiet and devastating, the kind that says I choose this life, every day.
Silas grins like he won something he never expected to deserve.
When I reach them, the world narrows to just us.
I say my vows with my whole chest. About choosing. About staying. About love that isn’t loud to be real.
They say theirs like promises already kept.
When we kiss, Sadie cheers so loudly the officiant laughs.
The rest of the day blurs into joy.
Music. Dancing. Boone spinning me under the lights. Caleb’s hand warm on my back. Silas dipping me dramatically until Ivy threatens him with bodily harm while bouncing her baby.
It really is perfect.
And somehow, it keeps getting better.
Much later, after the music fades, after the lights are dimmed and the last hugs are exchanged, we tuck Sadie into bed together.
She’s half asleep already, still wearing her flower crown, curls stuck to her cheeks with sugar and exhaustion. Boone kneels to untangle the crown gently. Caleb smooths the blankets. Silas presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Best day ever,” she murmurs, eyes barely opening.
Boone goes soft in a way he only ever does for her. “Yeah, kiddo. It really was.”
She smiles, satisfied, and drifts off before we turn off the lamp.
We stand there for a beat after the door clicks shut.
I feel it shift the moment we turn toward each other.
Silas is the first to grin, slow and wicked, loosening his tie. “Well,” he says lightly, “Mrs. Taylor Grant Westbrook—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” I warn.
Boone snorts. Caleb’s mouth curves.
But then Boone steps closer. No jokes. No bravado. Just heat and intent, and the day still hanging between us.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod. “I’ve never been more okay.”
That’s all it takes.
Silas is the first to touch me, fingers sliding up my arms, mouth grazing my neck.
“You’re lethal in that dress,” he murmurs.
Boone’s hands follow, palms spanning my hips, claiming what’s already his. Caleb presses in behind me, chest to my back, his presence solid and unavoidable.
The dress doesn’t last long.
By the time my back meets the mattress, my body is already humming, nerves lit up, breath shallow.
Silas looms over me, dark eyes locked on mine, his shirt gone and his jeans half undone, the thick ridge of him straining behind the zipper. His hands grip my thighs and pull them apart, a man who’s done holding back.
“Look at her,” he murmurs. “Look at what she gives us when she finally lets go.”
“She’s so open,” Boone adds quietly from between my legs, fingers tracing me with slow, knowing intent. He’s stripped down, lean and hungry, eyes dark with devotion. “You’ve been holding this in all day, haven’t you? Waiting for us.”
I nod, too breathless to speak.
But Caleb’s behind me now, sitting against the headboard with me in his lap, propped against his chest as he kisses the side of my neck. His hands slide up to cup my breasts through my bra, tugging the fabric down to bare my nipples, already peaked and aching.
“She’s missed all of us,” he says, lazy grin pressed against my skin. “Didn’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I want… I want everything.”
Silas’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “Then give it up. Don’t hold anything back.”
And then they move together.
Boone yanks my panties down and tosses them aside. “I want to taste you. I need to taste you.”
The second his mouth finds me, I’m gone.
His tongue is wicked, slow at first, then firm and fast, licking deep while his fingers press against the edge of my entrance, spreading me open.
Every stroke makes my hips jerk, but Caleb holds me still, arms tight around my middle, his teeth tugging gently at my earlobe.
“You want this?” he murmurs.
I can’t answer.
Because Silas is at my side now, hand fisted around the base of his cock as he watches Boone eat me alive.
He presses his tip to my lips, and I open for him instantly, wrapping my mouth around him, tongue swirling.
Caleb groans, one hand trailing down to tweak my nipple while his other sneaks between my legs, circling my clit right above where Boone is buried.
“Delaney,” Caleb breathes against my neck. “Look at you, so open for us. Letting yourself be held, wanted from every side.” His arm tightens around me, steady and unyielding. “I could stay right here forever. Just keeping you here. Making sure you know you’re ours.”
I moan around Silas, the vibration making him hiss and flex in my mouth.
Boone doesn’t stop. He just hums, enjoying the show as much as the taste, sliding two fingers inside me and curling them in just right. The pleasure spikes so fast it’s dizzying. I choke slightly on Silas, and he pulls back, hand sliding to my cheek, stroking softly.
“Too much?”
“No,” I gasp, already chasing it again. “More. Please.”
Caleb shifts then, laying me flat so I’m completely spread open for them. His hands stroke my thighs, keeping them wide, while Silas trades places with Boone, settling between my legs. But Boone doesn’t go far—he slides up beside my head, guiding my mouth to his cock this time, grinning.
Silas sinks into me in one deep motion, a broken sound tearing from his throat as I tighten around him.
“Damn, Delaney,” he murmurs. “You fit us like this, like you were always meant to. Every time I’m inside you, it feels like coming home.”
Caleb leans over from the side, hand sliding down to rub my clit. His other hand tangles in my hair as I suck Boone’s cock, cheeks flushed, completely undone.
It’s overwhelming. Perfect. Too much and not enough. Hands everywhere, lips everywhere, them everywhere, driving me mad with the way they worship me together, perfectly in sync. It’s heaven.
And then it crests, softens, turns deeper than heat alone.
I lose track of where one of them ends, and the next begins. Boone’s steady presence. Caleb’s touch. Silas’s breathless devotion. It all blurs into warmth and safety and a sense of being utterly, finally chosen.
Time stops meaning anything.
Eventually, the pace slows. Hands become gentler. Kisses linger instead of demanding. Someone presses their forehead to mine. Someone else smooths my hair back, again and again.
I’m boneless when they pull me close, tucked carefully between them, where I belong.
Boone’s arm wraps around my waist, solid and sure. Caleb’s hand rests over my heart, thumb brushing in slow, intense strokes. Silas presses a kiss to my shoulder, softer than all the ones that came before.
No one speaks for a long time.
We don’t need to.
The intensity of the day, the vows, the music, Sadie’s laughter, the way the town showed up for us, settles into something quiet and real.
“This is ours,” Boone murmurs eventually.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Caleb exhales behind me, content and steady. “Every part of it.”
Silas smiles against my skin. I can hear it in his voice when he says, “Best ending imaginable.”
I drift toward sleep wrapped in their warmth, heartbeat slowing, body humming, the future no longer something I brace for, but something I’m already inside.
Tomorrow will come.
Life will be loud again.
But tonight, I am held.
And I know, without a shred of doubt, I am home.
The end.