Epilogue
SAVANNAH
It’s Friday afternoon at Midnight Tales, the clock on the wall ticking closer to five. I keep shooting glances at it, my heart buzzing with anticipation. As much as I love working at the bookstore, the best part of my day is when my husband picks me up.
Clay insists on taking me to work and back every day, even though I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.
His excuse used to be that he didn’t trust Henry Honda to make the journey up and down the mountain, but I sold the hatchback last year when Clay surprised me with a truck of my own, and he still insists on driving me everywhere.
My husband has always been fiercely protective, but now that I’m pregnant, it’s like he’s gone into overdrive—and I kind of love it.
I’m only two months along, and my bump is barely visible yet, but we just found out that I’m having twins.
It’s doubled our excitement and seems to have tripled Clay’s protectiveness.
I finish stacking the final shelf when the door to the bookstore opens and Clay steps inside—right on time.
He fills the room, towering over everything, looking sexier than ever.
There are more silver streaks in his beard, more tattoos on his arms, his body bigger and brawnier.
Those intense blue eyes pierce mine from across the aisle, roaming my body and lingering on my belly, like he’s imagining our twins curled up inside me.
“Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs, closing the space between us and wrapping his arm around me.
“Hi.” I rise on my tiptoes to give him a kiss and let him guide me out of the store, waving to my boss on the way out.
“Did you have a good day?” Clay asks, opening the door to his truck and lifting me into my seat.
“Yeah, it was great. I wrote some more of that story during my lunch break.”
He leans over to kiss my forehead as he climbs into the driver’s seat. “Can’t wait to read it, sugar.”
I still love writing romance books. My husband converted one of the cabin’s bedrooms into a little home office for me to write in, and I have a blast crafting my stories in there.
It’s still just a hobby—and I want to keep it that way.
My books are for my husband’s eyes only, and I love to share them with him, especially now that I’ve started writing steamy scenes.
Clay sure knows how to give me lots of inspiration.
“What about you? How was your day?” I ask as we drive out of Cherry Hollow, heading for the mountain path.
“Fine. Cut up some lumber for the sawmill—they paid a decent amount for it.” His gaze slides to me. “Missed you like hell, sugar. Hope you know I’m not leaving your side all weekend.”
“Sounds good to me.” I grin at him. “I missed you too, Clay.”
I mean it, even if we only saw each other a couple of hours ago.
My husband makes a point of coming to the bookstore every chance he gets, pretending to browse the aisles while actually just staring at me.
It’s incredibly distracting, but I love it.
Luckily, my boss’s husband does the same thing to her, so she doesn’t mind.
“I started building the other crib today,” Clay says as we wind through the darkening forest. “Should be ready by next week.”
As soon as he found out I was pregnant, my husband set about creating a nursery, building a crib and filling the room with everything a baby could need. Now that he knows there are two babies on the way, he’s started working twice as hard.
“I can’t wait to see it,” I tell him, reaching over to squeeze his thigh.
My heart fills up at the thought of our babies sleeping in cribs my husband built for them. I still can’t believe I’m going to be a mom—let alone a mom of twins. It’s a dream come true, and I’m overwhelmed with excitement every time I think of them growing inside me, safe and sound together.
We reach our cabin, my husband helping me down from my seat. The forest floor is icy, so Clay moves slowly on his prosthetic, wrapping his arm around me.
It’s deliciously warm inside the cabin, a fire already roaring in the hearth. Our home is cozier than ever now that it’s full of bookshelves, each one bursting with my favorite romance books.
Clay heads to the kitchen to make us drinks, before we cuddle up on the couch together, sipping hot chocolates. I like to joke that my husband is a sweet-tooth convert thanks to me. He even likes birthday cake now.
“What time are we leaving?” I ask, nuzzling against his chest.
“Soon, baby. Brewer said to be there for six.”
I nod, smiling to myself. “I can’t wait.”
“Me neither. Never thought I’d be an uncle.”
We’re meeting Connor for the first time today—Brewer and Josie’s baby boy.
My best friend finally got her “Lumbersnack”, and now she’s happily married to Clay’s brother, living in a cabin not far from here.
I get to see her all the time. Heck, we were still getting lunch at Mountain Brew every afternoon right up until the day she went into labor, and I’m excited to restart the tradition soon.
It’s not long before Clay and I are back in the truck, heading for Brewer and Josie’s cabin. My phone chimes with a text as we drive, and I see Grandma’s name pop up.
See you at the party tomorrow, honey!
I smile as I reply.
Can’t wait!
My Grandma’s birthday parties are still as busy as ever, but they’re much less overwhelming now Clay and I aren’t fake dating.
After we got together for real, we came clean to my grandma and told her the full story.
She wasn’t mad at me for lying. Heck, when Clay told her that we met when I hit him with his car, Grandma said it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard.
We’re about five minutes from the cabin when Clay turns left instead of right, pulling up at the edge of the forest. My heart flutters as I look at him, moonlight catching the rugged angles of his face.
“Why are we stopping?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Come here, sugar.”
“We’re going to be late…”
“Not if I make you come fast.”
I shiver at his words, a thrill of desire running up my spine at the hunger in his eyes. Ever since our first time together, Clay has been insatiable.
“We shouldn’t,” I protest weakly as I glance at the time on the dash.
“I need to have you, buttercup. Right now.”
His hands are already roaming my body—snaking up my skirt—and all my resistance crumbles like a sandcastle.
“You’re impossible,” I tell him breathlessly.
“Only for you.”
Then he’s kissing me, lips firm against mine, his beard rough on my skin as he pulls me onto his lap.
I never get tired of kissing my husband.
He tastes like musk and whiskey, deliciously familiar, and my heart quivers as he grabs my ass, grinding me against him until sparks of pleasure zip through me.
“Ready to show me how fast you can come?” he growls.
I gasp in response, already wet as I straddle his lap.
My body responds to him instinctively, thighs slick beneath my skirt as Clay reaches down between us, unzipping his pants and inching down his boxers just enough for his cock to pop free.
I reach between my legs and tug the wet fabric of my panties aside as Clay lines himself up with my entrance, making me shudder as the fat tip of his cock pokes against my hole.
I clasp his shoulders for balance and sink onto him with a toe-curling moan.
“Fuck, sugar, that’s it.”
I’ll never get over my husband’s size. He still makes my eyes water every time, hitting spots so deep inside me that I instantly see stars.
“I give it less than a minute ‘til you come,” Clay grunts.
“Is that…a challenge?”
“No, sugar.” His eyes flash dangerously. “It’s a promise.”
He leans back in his seat, snapping his hips up to meet mine, tearing a moan from my throat.
“Oh God.”
I rock on his cock, grinding my clit against him with every movement. My butt hits the steering wheel, head brushing the roof of the truck, but I barely notice. All my focus is on my husband’s cock as it surges into me, our bodies slapping together in a desperate rhythm.
“You got thirty seconds, baby,” Clay groans. “Thirty seconds to show me what a good girl you are.”
He spanks my ass—once, twice—making me whimper for him. I can already feel myself losing control, pleasure coiling tight in my lower belly, threatening to spill over. Clay’s eyes are fixed on mine, his teeth gritted as ragged breaths escape his lips.
“Fifteen seconds.”
I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging hard as my pussy starts to throb. He feels so good. I love feeling stuffed full of him, stretched open around him as I ride him hard.
“Oh Clay,” I whine. “I’m so close.”
“That’s my girl.” He bucks his hips faster, groaning against my neck. “You’re gonna come on your husband’s cock in five…four…three—”
My orgasm tears through me. Clay’s voice turns to static in my ears as I come undone, my whole body pulsing and quivering on top of him. From somewhere far away, I hear him let out a strangled shout as he spurts hot cum inside me, filling me up until we’re both spent.
I collapse on top of him, shivering through the aftershocks as he holds me tight.
“Fifty-eight seconds,” he murmurs, pressing lazy kisses on my jaw. “I’m proud of you, sugar.”
His praise warms me as I pull back to look at him. He’s staring at me like I’m a work of art, eyes sparkling with awe like he can’t believe I’m real.
“I love you, buttercup.” He raises a hand to my cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “For real and forever.”
“I love you too, Clay…for real and forever.”
His hand moves between us, resting on my belly, and I see a familiar flash of possessiveness in his eyes—a silent promise that he will do anything for me and our babies.
And I know he will. I trust this man completely.
He’s my husband, the love of my life, the happily ever after I was so desperate to find.
And as Clay strokes my belly gently, his gaze fixed on mine, I know our happy ending is only just beginning.