Epilogue
CATALINA
Afire roars in the reading room hearth as Ambrose and I snuggle on the loveseat, Dumpling sandwiched between us and purring.
Ambrose wears square-framed black reading glasses, and I steal glances at him, stunned by how adorable the geeky shades make him. His big hand rests on Dumpling, scratching behind her ears when she stirs or meows.
It’s scandalous how much she has him wrapped around her finger. And yes, I’m still jealous.
He’s halfway through an obscenely large space opera, and I’m nearly to the end of Winning the Small-Town Firefighter. I have to admit it’s been a slower read than usual, incapable of competing with my very new and very scintillating love life with Ambrose.
My mind wanders back to the shower this morning. The slick slide of his body against mine. His mouth teasing my breasts, his fingers undoing me, and finally his cock filling me until I shattered.
“You winning me again?” he teases, eyeing the book in my hand over the rim of his glasses.
“Again? You forget, Sexy. I didn’t win you the first time. Gran did.”
His eyes narrow, voice raw as he asks, “Would you this time?”
He already knows the answer. It hums through my chest, yet I evade, “And where would I get ten thousand dollars? That’s a pretty penny for one diner date—”
“With countless interruptions and a broken-down ride at the end.”
“None of that was your fault,” I remind.
“Yes, but it still has me thinking we need to go on a true ten-thousand-dollar date.”
“Really? You do realize ten thousand dollars could pay for an entire wedding, right?”
“Now, there’s an idea!” he exclaims, removing his reading glasses, folding them, and setting them on the coffee table. “A first date that’s also a wedding.”
“You’ve lost your mind, and that’s not possible anyway.”
“Why not?” he asks, arching a dark eyebrow, eyes radiating love.
“Because we’ve already been on our first date.”
“I told you that was not a date. That was us sitting down to discuss how we wanted to proceed. Whether that be one night of ridiculous extravagance or a whole week of indulgences.”
“Now, we’re up to a whole week? After the auction, you only mentioned a weekend.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking a whole week of bliss is in order. Lord knows I’ve worked hard enough to deserve. And I have endless ideas for how we could maximize our time and our pleasure.”
Dog-earing his book, he sets it on the coffee table next to his glasses. Turning towards me, he shifts Dumpling out of our shared laps. The apricot-hued tabby stretches and meows crankily, indignant about the adjustment.
But a moment later, she’s on the ground, purring and rubbing against Ambrose’s legs. I take advantage of the reprieve, reclining back and putting my legs in his lap. He massages my thighs and calves masterfully, drawing little moans and whimpers from me as I relax into his robust touch.
“Endless ways to maximize our pleasure? I like the sound of that,” I murmur, closing my eyes and melting under his kneading hands.
“Am I surprising you, or are we planning this together?” he asks.
I lift my head, reluctant to break my focus on his skilled hands. “Are we going on a first date or getting married?”
“Both,” he says naughtily.
“You are incorrigible,” I scold, unable to fight the grin that seizes my lips.
“I’m in love,” he counters.
“I am, too, but not nearly as reckless as you.”
“You’re more reckless,” he counters.
I raise an eyebrow, eyeing him curiously.
“Climbing a tree without a ladder or rope, all to get a fireman at your house.” He frowns. But flirtation sparks in his dark eyes.
A little puff of air escapes my lips. “Never. That was entirely coincidental.”
“You know, I didn’t want to go on that call when it came through.”
“Really?”
“Nope,” he says, shaking his head firmly. “I was trying so hard to prove my worth as a firefighter, and I knew I’d never hear the end of cat jokes. But now I can’t stop thanking my lucky stars that I did because you are hands-down the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“And what will your colleagues think about us?”
“You mean, falling in love with the girl I rescued from a tree?” The creases in his forehead deepen. “I’m never going to hear the end of it. But that’s okay because they’re just jealous anyway.”
“Weren’t they on the auction block, too?” I ask, moaning softly as his thumbs and fingers dig into my feet, forcing the tension away.
“That’s right. I haven’t told you about all of the auction drama that happened after we split for the diner,” Ambrose murmurs in seductive tones.
I nod slowly, trying to make my brain work despite the distraction of his deliciously insistent touch. “Drama? What happened?”
Three of my firefighter buddies, Donovan, Waldon, and Aiden, got bid on. And let’s just say they didn’t get nearly as lucky as I did with you.”
“I don’t see how anybody could get as lucky as we did. This is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things.”
“I’m glad you see it now, too,” he says with a wink and a grin.
“So, what happened to your friends?”
He furrows his brows, looking so sexy I expect the couch to ignite beneath us. “All I know is Donovan woke up in Vegas with a ring on his finger.”
I gasp. “Are you serious?”
“And Waldon got bid on and won by his lifelong enemy, his best friend’s little sister. I can only imagine how that went.”
I shake my head, desperate for juicy details. “But why would she bid on him if she hates him?”
“That’s the million-dollar question … along with how they both survived the evening.”
“Wow.”
“And Aiden got roped into some kind of fake relationship deal. I tried to get them to spill the beans on our last shift, but they were surprisingly reticent.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “I promise to get to the bottom of it, though.” He winks.
“I doubt they raised as much money as you did.”
“Not by a long shot, but Gran had a lot to do with that.”
“Thankfully, or you would have ended up in the clutches of red shirt.”
He shivers. “No offense, but there was only one woman in that room who I wanted bidding on me. I was literally praying for it under my breath.”
“Seriously?”
“You have no idea.”
“Did Kurt mention whether the evening proved a success or not?” In all that’s transpired in the past week, I haven’t even texted Roxy.
“Sure did. The auction was wildly successful, raising three times the original goal. They want to do it again as an annual event. And of course, they want me to participate each year …” He eyes me curiously as I dissolve into feral jealousy.
“No way.”
“What do you mean, ‘no way?’” he teases as I cross my arms over my chest, simmering.
“No way. Never.”
“Wait, do I detect a hint of jealousy?” he asks, satisfaction flooding his face.
“You detect me ready to murder any woman who even thinks about getting near you.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I already told them I’m off the market. But we still have to make it official.” He grabs my hand, fingering my empty left ring finger.
“When you know what you want, you go for it. No hesitation.”
“Guilty as charged.”
I grab his hand, leaning forward to cover the tips of his fingers in kisses. “Good because that’s one of the many things I love about you.”
“Tell me the rest,” he invites darkly.
“You’re caring and generous, big-hearted and kind, and you always put others before yourself. You don’t have some crazy ego like most Hollywood stars, and you’re strong and steady, courageous and heroic. But most importantly, you’re the kind of man who never leaves and always comes back.”
“Always.”
I study my handsome cowboy fireman for a long moment, savoring how the warm light from the fire dances across his face. My heart aches with gratitude, no longer able to imagine my life without him.
My thoughts drift to Gran, safe in her rehab center tonight. She’s adjusting well, already charming the nurses and befriending her neighbors. Relief warms me. She’s cared for, and I’m not alone anymore.
Ambrose wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his lap. Reading my mind, he says, “You don’t need to worry, Sparky. I’ve got you both.” His voice is steady, absolute.
I sigh, overwhelmed, and lean against his chest. “I can’t thank you enough, Ambrose. For everything.”
“Shh,” he murmurs, brushing his lips across my hairline. “I take care of what’s mine, Sparky. Always. And this is just the beginning,” he replies with a confident grin. The mischievous glint in his eyes raises far too many questions for me to remain silent.
“What do you mean?”
“Next, we’re going to tackle your current job situation. I know the DMV pays well and has good benefits. But you need to pursue your dream, Sparky. Like you climb trees or guard a goal. And Hollister could use something for romance and space opera readers, too.”
“A bookstore that specializes in romances and sci-fi. Now, there’s a thought.”
“There’s a reality. And it could bring together two bookish factions who might enjoy being around each other. Hell, you may have a blueprint for a new matchmaking setup there.”
She giggles. “Gran is obviously infiltrating your brain.”
“I doubt I’m the only voracious space opera reader looking for my own hottie nerd girl.”
I cock my head, seeing the vision. “Maybe you’re on to something. But who knows when I’ll have the money, or the time, for that venture.”
“It could be tomorrow with the right investor.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” I ask, voice rising with excitement.
“An investor in your dream business,” he says with a wink. “But there’s a catch …”
“A catch?”
“A very naughty, filthy catch …”
“Mmm, tell me more,” I invite, snuggling against him.
“Let’s just say I’ve always had this thing for prim and proper, buttoned-up, bookish girls. And what you might call a bit of a fantasy when it comes to what we could do after hours amidst the books.”
I arch an eyebrow, licking my lips.
His eyes tick to my mouth, his face darkening as he plays with one of the small pearl buttons on my dark floral blouse. “Between the bookshelves with the most delectable curvy girl I’ve ever set eyes on. My own naughty librarian.”
“Bookstore owner,” I correct.
“Bookstore owner.” Dang, Roxy was right.
I sigh, overwhelmed by his pitch. “I have to admit, I like where you’re headed with this.”
“Oh yeah? Well, to get this right, not only will we need the perfect store … your store. But we’ll need to practice. A lot. You know, polish our skills and work on our stamina.”
His hot breath tickles my cheek and ear as he leans in, covering me with feather-light kisses. “Think I could maybe talk your nose out of that book for a little of said practice?”
He looks down at the bare-chested cover of my book, adding, “If I can compare to your fireman book boyfriend?”
“He doesn’t hold a candle to you, Sexy,” I whisper.
He tilts my chin, eyes blazing with devotion, and presses his mouth to mine. The fire crackles, Dumpling purrs, and my heart soars.
Forever starts right here, in his arms.