Epilogue
WYATT
It’s a balmy August evening on Cherry Mountain, the heat of the day still trapped beneath the trees.
Isabelle and I are lying by the river on a picnic blanket, her head on my chest as we listen to the soft ripple of the water.
The sky blazes with color, bathing everything in golden light as the sun dips slowly behind the mountains.
It’s peaceful. Quiet. Just how we like it.
“I’ll never get tired of this view,” Isabelle says, sighing contentedly against me.
“It sure is pretty. Got nothing on you, though, Pixie.”
She giggles, lifting her head to beam at me.
It still takes my breath away how damn beautiful my wife is.
I’m always losing myself in those pretty amber eyes, letting everything else fall away when she looks at me.
She seems to get prettier every day, and it’s only enhanced by her pregnancy glow, which makes her look even more breathtaking than usual.
“I might go and get some more pie,” she says, easing herself into a sitting position. My eyes slide to her belly, her bump only just visible. I find myself staring at it all the time, thinking about our baby.
I still can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.
“Stay there, princess,” I tell Isabelle, sitting up and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll get it.”
Pushing myself up off the picnic blanket, I head into the cabin.
Isabelle has been craving cherry pie like crazy lately, so we always have plenty of it in the house, and I grab a fresh box from the kitchen, cutting the pie into slices.
Plating it up, I head back into the hallway, pausing for a moment in front of the door to the nursery.
I’ve been working on it ever since Isabelle told me she was pregnant, extending the cabin outward so we’ll have more room for the three of us.
There’s still nearly six months to go until my wife’s due date, and my excitement is building every day, my stomach flip-flopping every time I think about our baby.
Smiling to myself, I head outside and hand Isabelle the plate.
She thanks me, and I sit back down beside her, resting my hand on her thigh.
She’s wearing a baby blue summer dress, the fabric hugging her curves—thicker than ever now she’s pregnant.
It’s a constant struggle to keep my hands off her.
She’s so fucking sexy, and if I had it my way, we’d never leave the bedroom.
“Dad just texted,” Isabelle says, pulling me from my thoughts as she takes a bite of pie.
“He’s stopping by on his way home to give us another basket of cherries.
I think this will be the last batch of the year.
” I nod. Holden and Mila are always bringing us fruit from their garden—apples, cherries, apricots.
After we finished fixing up Ralph’s cabin, Holden changed his mind about selling up.
He decided to buy me out and move into the cabin to be closer to Isabelle.
Things were tense between us at first, but then we sat down and had an honest conversation about the past. I explained where my head was at back then, told him about all my demons, and he was able to get a few things off his chest. It took him a little longer to warm up to my relationship with Isabelle, but now we’re friends again, and the twenty years, which seemed like an unbridgeable gap before, feel like they never even happened.
Holden sold up his auto shop in Denver when he moved out here, starting up a new one on the outskirts of Cherry Hollow.
It’s been a big success. People used to have to go all the way to Winterdale if they wanted their vehicle fixed, but now Holden’s place is right here.
Isabelle co-owns the business with her dad.
He fixes the cars while she does the accounts, orders parts, and handles appointments.
She loves working with her dad, helping their business to flourish.
Between my handyman work and Isabelle’s job at the auto shop, we have enough to live comfortably in our cozy little cabin.
We hear the rumble of Holden’s engine a few minutes later, his pickup stopping beside mine.
He raises a hand in greeting as he gets out, walking toward us.
As usual, his hands are blackened with oil, but there’s a glint in his eyes that didn’t use to be there—and it’s all thanks to Mila.
Holden met his wife soon after he moved out here, and she makes him happier than I’ve ever seen him before.
“Hi, Dad!” Isabelle calls as he approaches, pushing herself up onto her elbows and waving.
“Hey Izz. Wyatt.” Holden stops in front of us and sets down an enormous basket of cherries. “Can’t stay long. Just came to give you these.”
The cherries are ripe and shiny, dark red and perfectly formed. Everything that grows in Holden and Mila’s garden seems to turn out perfect.
“They look amazing!” Isabelle gushes. “Thank you.”
Holden nods. “You’re welcome. No more cherries this year, but we’ll have plenty of raspberries for you next week. The bushes are covered with them.” He reaches down to ruffle Isabelle’s hair. “Don’t forget you’re both coming over tomorrow. We’re having a barbecue.”
“We won’t forget, buddy,” I tell him. “Looking forward to it.”
Holden smiles and takes a step back toward his truck. He’s clearly eager to return to his wife. I know how he feels—I get antsy as hell if I’m away from Isabelle for too long.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says. “Come over around five.”
“We’ll be there,” I tell him.
“Bye, Dad!” Isabelle calls.
“Bye, Izz. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Say hi to Mila for us!”
Holden gives us one last wave and gets back in his truck, driving away through the trees. Once he’s gone, Isabelle lies back down beside me, curling up against my chest.
“It’s great to see him so happy,” she says affectionately. “He deserves it.”
I wrap my arm around her, squeezing her tight.
When she first moved out here, I was worried Isabelle might find it hard to live in the town where she was abandoned by her birth parents.
But when I asked her about it, she assured me that’s not how she sees things at all.
As far as she’s concerned, Cherry Hollow is Holden’s hometown, and he’s the only parent she’s ever needed.
For her, it’s a happy place because it’s where he found her.
She seems to love this town as much as I do, and I know we’ll never leave it. This place will be our home forever.
The sky is darkening to a deep navy, and fireflies start to skitter over the lake—putting on a light show just for us.
I glance at Isabelle, smiling as she watches in delight.
We get fireflies out here all the time, but it doesn’t stop her from getting excited.
Her lips part, eyes wide as the fireflies dance, and my heart thumps as I look at her.
My beautiful wife.
She senses my gaze and faces me, the air humming with electricity as I reach out to touch her cheek. A familiar desire courses through me, hot and heavy, impossible to resist.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” My voice is a growl of need, and I reach for her hand, pressing it against the hard bulge in my jeans. “Look at what you’re doing to me, Pixie.”
Isabelle bites her lip, shuddering against me. Then she grabs my free hand and pushes it between her thighs, her wetness coating my fingers.
“Fuck,” I groan, my cock twitching. “You’re not wearing any panties?”
She smiles coyly. “I had a feeling I wouldn’t be needing them.”
She has a point. I’m constantly ripping them off her or pulling them down. Hell, I’ve already removed her panties twice today.
“I like your thinking, princess,” I tell her.
Then I close the space between us and kiss her, a bruising, feverish kiss that makes her whimper against me.
She tastes like cherries, sweet and juicy, her warm tongue sliding against mine as I push her back onto the blanket.
I settle on top of her, shifting my weight so I’m not pressing too hard on her belly.
Her body is so fucking soft, her thick curves driving me wild as I run my hands over them.
“Fuck, I need you,” I murmur between kisses. “Open your legs wider for me, princess.”
She does as she’s told, breathing hard as she pulls up her dress. “No teasing, Wyatt. Please, I’m aching…”
I know how she feels. Sometimes we take our time, spending hours exploring each other, but other times, the need is deeper, more urgent.
Those are the moments we end up pulled over at the side of the road, fucking in the back of my truck, or disappearing into the auto shop’s back room and locking the door behind us. My wife makes me fucking insatiable.
I pull my jeans and boxers down just low enough for my cock to spring free, not bothering to kick them off all the way.
Then I line myself up with Isabelle’s entrance and push inside her, squeezing open her tight hole until she’s panting for me.
Her walls are slick and hot around my aching cock, and I grit my teeth, fighting back the urge to come immediately.
“Oh!” Isabelle moans as I draw my hips back, then thrust forward, moving inside her. “Oh, yes…”
I lean in and suck on her plump bottom lip, nipping at it as she shudders beneath me, her legs circling my hips, pulling me closer, deeper. She lets out a strangled cry as I start to fuck her harder, her eyes glazed with need.
“You like that, princess?” I fix my gaze on her. “Feel better with your husband’s cock inside you?”
“Y-yes!” she sobs. “I was aching for you.”
“Poor baby.” I grip her tight. “Hold onto me. I’m gonna fuck the ache away.”
She does as she’s told, her nails digging into my back as I slam into her honeyed pussy, savoring the wet smack of each thrust. Her cries turn wild, her whole body writhing beneath me as I force her to take every inch of my cock.
My nerves buzz with pleasure, and I suck in a breath, trying to stay in control.
Fuck, she feels so good.
Still buried inside my wife, I roll onto my back, pulling her on top of me.
Impatiently, I yank off her dress and unhook her bra, tossing her clothes to the ground until she’s naked.
The sight of her swollen tits makes my cock twitch inside her, and I feast my eyes on them as she plants her knees either side of my hips.
“Be a good girl and ride me, princess,” I tell her. “Make yourself come.”
She bites her lip, nodding eagerly as she rests her hands on my chest. With a shuddery breath, she starts to bounce on my cock, sliding up and down with desperate movements.
“Fuck, that’s it.” I run my hands over her thick waist, watching her in awe. “Look at you, princess. You’re doing so good.”
She’s chasing her orgasm, her head thrown back as she uses my hard length to pleasure herself, mewling adorably.
Moonlight bathes her body in silver as night draws in around us, the trees shaking in the breeze as my wife rides me like a wild thing, bringing us both closer to the edge.
I start to buck my hips, matching her rhythm, pushing up as she slams down.
She gasps, her eyes wide. “Oh God, you’re so deep. ”
Her words make me groan, and I grab her rounded ass cheeks, forcing her to move faster.
I can feel her walls fluttering around me, her orgasm blooming as our bodies slap together, raw and primal.
My cock is throbbing, but I hold back, determined to make my wife come first. I slip my hand between us and find her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub until her cries reach fever-pitch.
“Wyatt! Yes!”
Her screams echo through the forest as she comes for me, quaking uncontrollably. I pull her against my chest, my heart thudding as I thrust up once, twice…
“Fuck, Isabelle!” My cock explodes, pleasure shooting through me as I fill my wife’s pussy with hot cum. We hold each other tight, shuddering through the aftershocks until our bodies go slack.
“What the hell did I do to deserve you, Pixie?” I ask, my voice husky.
She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes twinkling in the dark. “I love you, Wyatt.”
“I love you too. More than anything.”
We stay like that for a while until the night air starts to feel cold against our naked skin.
Then we gather up our clothes and the basket of cherries, heading back to our cabin.
We take a quick shower, washing each other with soapy hands beneath the stream of hot water, before finally heading to bed.
Isabelle nestles against me as I pull the covers over us and wrap an arm around her.
My free hand settles on her belly, and I smile as I imagine our baby curled up inside her, safe and warm.
I never imagined this would be my life. I spent so many years isolating myself, trying to bury my demons with drink.
But Ralph Kramer saved me. Twice. First when he encouraged me to get sober, and then when he left me half his cabin.
If it weren’t for him, I never would have met Isabelle.
I wouldn’t be holding my pregnant wife in my arms right now, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.
“Goodnight, Wyatt,” Isabelle says softly, pressing a kiss on my lips.
“Goodnight, Pixie.”
She smiles at me, her amber eyes shining before she closes them and drifts off by my side. Just before I do the same, I look out of the window, gazing at the stars that twinkle above the lake, and I say a silent prayer.
I owe all of this to you, Ralph.
Wherever you are now, I hope you’re resting easy.
Thank you, old friend.
Then I turn away from the window, and with one last look at my beautiful wife, I close my eyes and fall asleep with a smile on my face.