Epilogue
Five years later
I love my job; I do. But I’m secretly a little jealous of how little paperwork exists in Howler’s life.
Sometimes he even gets to bring kittens to work — when they need round-the-clock care and there’s nobody else to fill in.
His boss, Marty, is a softy underneath the growls, so he is usually the one feeding them tiny bottles in the office.
But I’m never second-fiddle in Howler’s life, so I don’t complain. The minute he sees me, his eyes light up, every damn time. He drops everything and swoops me up.
Like now. I’m off work for the entire week of Christmas. It took all five years to work up enough seniority to get that, so I plan to enjoy it. Our little house on the grounds is decorated to the max. I don’t think you could fit one more ornament in here if you tried.
“You can let me down now,” I mumble into Howler’s mouth. He’s busy kissing me, and while I greatly enjoy that, there is food in my car that needs to be unloaded. Which I explain patiently.
“Go inside, Candy Cane. I’ll get the bags.” He pushes me gently towards the front door and turns to do exactly that. Five minutes later, and the perishables are safely stowed, and he has me up on the kitchen counter for more kisses.
“I don’t like it when you run errands after work,” he admits, his big hands firm on my hips. “I worry enough as it is.”
“I did text you,” I remind him.
“I know. I knew where you were, but I get withdrawal symptoms.” He smirks and presses his erection between my legs. I shiver and pull his head down again.
“Five years, Howler. Any regrets?”
His head shake is immediate and fierce. “Don’t be an idiot, Ariel. You’re the best damn thing to waltz into my life in flannel pajamas.” He smirks down at me.
“Hey!” I mock twist his ear. “That’s an awful lot of qualifiers.
I still love you, though.” I push him back a little so I can hop down.
My parents will be bringing all the gifts I stashed at their place shortly.
While they’ve grown not to openly wince at the sight of all his tattoos, I don’t think we need to be caught making out in the kitchen.
“I’ll make it up to you later,” I promise as Howler pouts. “In fact, I was thinking we could go for a ride down the trail and you could make love to me on your new bike.”
That’s right, Tameiko finally died. His loyalty to that machine was impressive, but now he has something truly badass.
Sadly, he will only take me with him on rural roads or trails.
In turn, I got a promise not to ride in dangerous conditions.
Which he mostly honors. I also have a tracker on him sewn into his club jacket so he can always be found.
He doesn’t tell anyone else about it, but I think he was secretly pleased when I asked.
Howler’s eyes turn hot and dark. “I don’t want you getting cold.”
I shake my head. “I might have a little surprise for you there.” I blush slightly because, for me, this is daring.
I took an old pair of flannel pajamas and carefully slit the crotch for just this scenario.
“And we can bring a blanket,” I remind him.
So what if this isn’t how cool biker dudes fuck?
Nobody else can see and it’s working for us.
“You’re not wearing your uniform?”
I stare at him. “You sound disappointed.”
He sheepishly nods. “You’re pretty hot in that getup, Candy Cane. Although I’d better not catch anyone else saying that.”
I roll my eyes. “After that summer picnic three years ago, nobody would ever dare.”
Howler grins. “Good. How long before we can head out?”
Glancing out the kitchen window, I see headlights moving towards us. “Twenty minutes?”
He drops a kiss on my head. “Love you, baby. Make it forty. Show off all your decorations to your mom.”
And this is why he’s my guy. And I will kick the ass of any woman who thinks she can steal him from me. Not that I blame them for acknowledging how rare and wonderful he is. I do occasionally wonder if I was always this fierce or if a little bit of Howler has rubbed off on me…
Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more exciting stories from Haven County. And you can find Marty and Kennedy’s story in Last-Minute Mate.