30. Epilogue
Epilogue
Grayson—One year later
Harlow steps into the hotel and does a little twirl. “Back at the scene of the crime.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “I think the scene of the crime was actually some chapel. This was just the scene of the wake-up and freak-out.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I was freaking out.”
Well, I knew I was freaking out. I didn’t know he was. “Didn’t wanna wake up married to me?” I ask, shooting him a grin as we step onto the elevator.
It’s the same one I kissed him in a year ago, and I can’t help but smile at the memories. Everything was so confusing and uncertain back then. Not anymore. Now, being with Harlow is as easy as breathing, and it never hurts.
He shakes his head. “It’s not that. I was freaking out because I’d just watched myself kiss you, and I wanted to do it again. Though I fucking wish we could remember how it all went down.”
I’m still fully convinced it was me who suggested it. Harlow thinks it was him. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. We’re married and celebrating our one-year anniversary back in the city where I finally got to make him mine. “I don’t.”
He glances at me as the elevator lurches to a stop on our floor. “No?”
Placing my hand on the small of his back, I lead him out of the elevator toward our room.
I was able to book the same one as before, and I’ve been giddy and excited ever since.
Could I have picked something better for Harlow for our first anniversary?
Maybe. But I loved the idea of revisiting the scene of the crime, as Harlow so eloquently put it.
“No. It doesn’t really matter which one of us had the idea. We ended up exactly where we needed to be.”
Harlow snorts, and as soon as we walk into the room, he turns, pinning me to the door. “You’re a sap in your old age.”
I roll my eyes. “My old age—”
Cutting me off with his lips, Harlow slides his fingers into my hair and tugs on the strands. If I’m not careful, I’ll have him naked and writhing on my cock in minutes, and we have plans tonight. Plans that definitely involve that, but not until later.
Reluctantly, I break our kiss. Cupping his face, I brush my thumbs along his freckles. “Still as crazy about these as I was when we were six years old.”
His cheeks flush. “Shut up. You weren’t crazy about my freckles at six years old.”
“I was, actually, and I still am.”
Harlow laughs, but his cheeks turn pinker, highlighting the adorable freckles I love so much. “So what are the plans for the week, husband?”
I hum, leaning in to rub my nose over his. “I can’t tell you all my plans, but I have a reservation tonight. Thought maybe we’d recreate a special night and get some escargot.”
Harlow pulls back, disgust written all over his face. “No way. I’m not eating that.”
“I know.” I can’t help but grin. “I was messing with you, baby.”
He pouts. “That’s not nice.”
We carry our suitcases deeper into the room, and when Harlow sees the bed, he comes to a stop, then bursts out laughing. “You didn’t.”
It’s covered in rose petals, much like it was the first night we arrived here. God, I was convinced I’d never survive that week.
Sitting down on the bed, Harlow turns a beautiful smile on me before picking up the petals and tossing them into the air. They flutter slowly back to the bed, some hitting the floor.
“This is so cool. I can’t believe you got the same room and even the rose petals.”
Striding across the room, I push him down on the mattress, smiling at the halo of petals around his head. If we’re not careful, they’re going to get caught in his hair.
“So what are we doing, husband?” Harlow asks, voice breathless as I settle my weight on him and slide a hand under his head to cradle it.
I press a kiss to his nose, then his lips, then his cheeks. Still can’t manage each individual freckle. I’ll keep trying, though.
“Well,” I say, rubbing my nose against his. “I booked us a massage for this evening. Figured we’d start our trip off with some relaxation.”
Blinking up at me with wide blue eyes, he hums. “And then after?”
“I thought we’d grab some of those street tacos you were obsessed with and come back to the room.”
He shakes his head.
“No?” I raise an eyebrow. “Do you want something else?”
“We can get tacos after.”
I squint my nose up. “I said that.”
“No,” he whispers, running his finger along my throat. “After we come back here. The sounds you make when you’re getting a massage are obscene, and I’m not spending the night with blue balls again.”
That startles a laugh out of me. “Again?”
“Mmm. Last time I woke up from our nap so desperate I had to rush off to the bathroom.”
Well, that’s news to me. “Is that right?”
He nods, sinking his teeth into his full bottom lip.
“I think we can definitely do something about your problem.”
Rolling off Harlow and onto the bed, I pull him with me. He snuggles into my side, drawing patterns on my chest with his fingers. “I can’t believe it’s been a year,” he whispers.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “Me neither. Still feels like a dream.”
“Can’t believe you won’t tell me the rest of our plans.”
I can hear the pout in his voice, and it makes me grin. He’s so fucking adorable. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Harlow says immediately. The warmth in my heart when he says those words never stops surprising me. They hit me right in the chest every single time. “I’d love you more if you told me what we’re doing this week.”
Tilting his head back, I find his lips with my own, kissing him slowly. Until he’s whining into my mouth and grinding against my hip.
I have many plans for this week. A romantic gondola ride, another visit to the fountains. Dinner and a show.
And if I’ve also booked a chapel for us to renew our vows in a way we’ll never forget? Well, that’s my business.
THE END.