Epilogue
BEAU
Eleven Months Later
“I have a couple things planned for you today, and I need you to take every opportunity to relax and be pampered and accept the surprises as they come your way instead of questioning them. Can you do that for me?”
“It depends,” she says, trailing her finger down the center of my chest all the way to where the white hotel sheet covers my hips. “What are you going to do for me?”
“Everything,” I say, peppering the ridge of her nose with kisses. “Every day, everything I do is for you.”
She cups my face in her hands and looks into my eyes like she’s trying to see inside me. Or maybe let me see inside her. “I know,” she whispers.
I lift myself onto my elbow to look at the clock on the other side of the bed, trying to gauge if distracting her with sex will backfire when she’s stressed about being late.
But it’s like she anticipated needing this time when she set the alarm because there’s an hour and a half before she has to meet Jackson and I have to meet Nate.
I glance down at where she lays tucked up against my side with the sheet loosely draped over her naked form, and wonder for the 330th day in a row if there will ever come a morning I don’t wake up and thank my lucky stars that she’s in my bed.
I can’t even remember what it was like to not have her with me, to wake up after meaningless sex with someone I didn’t care about.
I didn’t realize then that someone else could make me feel whole, but I know it now.
“I can see you thinking,” she says fondly as she wraps her hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to her.
“I’m feeling really grateful that we’re where we are right now.
That you’re here with me. That we’ve gotten to travel and experience so much together in the last year.
” I could never have imagined that Sierra would adapt so well to life on the road—not just adapt, but thrive.
She’s not just along for the ride, she’s driving the bus.
She’s taken over planning where we’ll go next, and making sure that if there’s an excursion, we take it.
She babies Lance and whips Drew into line when he needs it.
She’s been more amazing than I anticipated, both when we’re traveling with my friends and when we’ve gone off on solo trips, just the two of us—something she insisted on and I still thank past-Beau for agreeing to.
“Well, stop thinking about it and show me,” she says, bringing my lips to hers.
I delve into that kiss with reckless abandon, because when those surprises start coming her way, I need her to remember this. To remember how perfect we are together, how happy we make each other.
It only takes a minute before she pushes me onto my back.
She rises above me as she swings her leg across my hip and plants her center right over me, and I’m already rising up and trying to find my way inside her while she hovers just out of reach.
Instead, I reach up and cup her perfect breasts in my hands, stroking my thumbs over her nipples in that way I know will drive her right down onto my raging hard-on.
Sure enough, she thrusts her hips down, running those slick folds along the length of me and back to the tip.
Then she repositions herself and I thrust inside her as she sinks down to take all of me.
She hovers there for a moment, giving herself time to adjust to this deep penetration before she uses her thighs to raise and lower herself up and down my shaft.
As I watch her take the lead, I think back to that tentative girl I first had sex with in Vegas who didn’t even know what she liked or how she liked it. It only makes me appreciate how she now takes control, making sure I give her exactly what she wants.
With my hand on the back of her neck, I bring her toward me until her breasts bounce near my face.
In my mind, her whole body is perfect, but if there’s one part of her I can never have my mouth on enough, it’s right here.
I take my free hand and cup as much of her as will fit in my palm before running the rough pad of my thumb over her hardened nipple.
She doesn’t try to hide her groan of pleasure, and she arches her back, pressing her tits toward my face.
I take that nipple into my mouth, running my tongue over and around it—which has her clenching her walls around my cock—and then I suck her into my mouth with long pulls that have her sighing my name.
I give the same attention to her other nipple and then her hips are moving faster and she’s mumbling something along the lines of, “So fucking good.”
She reaches forward and grips the top of the headboard above me with one hand, and brings the other to her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip of her finger before she brings it to her clit.
With my hands still on her breasts, I watch her circle that bundle of nerves over and over as she slides up and down the length of me and the sight has me aching to fill her with everything I have.
I bring my hands to her hips, quickening the pace as I move her up and down at the tempo that I know will bring about her orgasm.
I feel the telltale signs of my own just as she throws her head back and hisses, “Yes.” Then her thighs are quaking as the muscles of her internal walls clench around me over and over until I’m pouring myself into her and she’s repeating my name on breathy sighs.
She collapses onto me, and I wrap my arms around her. She’s sweaty and happy and mine.
“I don’t want to get up,” she complains after we’ve lain there basking in the afterglow of amazing morning sex.
“C’mon, let’s get showered. And promise me you’ll embrace the surprises I mentioned earlier?”
“What do you have planned?” she says, regarding me as if I’m the sneakiest boyfriend she’s ever had. Oh honey, you have no idea. “This is Jackson and Nate’s anniversary. Don’t do anything that takes away from them and their ridiculous level of happiness. Promise?”
“Promise,” I confirm. Because even though this will overshadow Jackson and Nate’s anniversary that we’re allegedly here to celebrate, Jackson is fully on board. I might be the mastermind of this whole endeavor, but she’s the one pulling the strings.
SIERRA
My nails and toenails are shellacked in the prettiest shell pink, a color that Jackson said she picked out especially for us, and we’re lounging in the waiting area of the spa, drinking mimosas as we watch the snow fall outside.
Jackson looks out the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook a courtyard with an enormous stone fountain.
Her features are serene, all olive skin and dark hair with those bright green eyes and pouty pale pink lips, but there’s something there just under the surface.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. I wonder if she wishes we were out skiing again today, but my body is still sore from keeping up with her and Petra yesterday, and I’m relieved we’re at the spa instead.
She shakes her head as she looks at me, like she’s snapping herself out of some internal conversation.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking how grateful I am for all this”—she gestures to the spa that’s part of the hotel and village they built at the base of the new backside of Blackstone Mountain—“and for you ladies. I’m thinking about the past two years, how far we’ve all come and how much has changed.
” Her eyes travel from Lauren to Petra to me as she says, “Nate and I finally got married. Lauren’s a mom, Petra’s a married woman, you’re living with my brother.
We’re all spread out, and I’m just so happy you’re all here for this celebration. ”
“Excuse me ladies,” I hear from behind me and we turn to see one of the spa receptionists standing there in her sleek, head-to-toe black clothing. “We’re almost ready for your hair appointments. Sierra, you’re up first if you want to follow me.”
She leads me to the door of the dressing room and tells me to take my shirt off and put on one of the kimonos, then to come out when I’m done.
I open the door and walk into a room that’s darker than I expect.
The only light comes from the dozens of pillar candles on the table in the center of the room, and the same Zen music that plays in the rest of the spa quietly fills this space too.
The path from the door to the table is scattered with rose petals, and my heart skips a beat as I think of what Beau said about accepting surprises as they come my way today.
I take a few tentative steps toward the table, and then the glint of candlelight off something sparkly draws me closer.
I step up to the table to find a red velvet ring box sitting on a round mirror, an envelope with READ ME FIRST scrawled across it in Beau’s handwriting lies next to it.
I take a shaky breath because is this real life?
This can’t be happening, it’s only been a year—which seems lightning fast for a guy who’s never been in a truly long-term relationship until a year ago.
I pull the letter out of the envelope.
Sierra,
I already know what you’re thinking: it’s only been a year.
But when you know, you know. And I’ve known since we were in Vegas.
Before then, even. I knew that the only way I wanted to hear my name again was from a breathy sigh rolling off your lips.
I knew that I wanted to come home to you every night, cook you every dinner, take care of your every need.
I knew that when I went to sleep at night, I wanted you wrapped in my arms, and when I woke up in the morning, I wanted you beside me.