Epilogue Jack
EPILOGUE
Jack
Six Weeks Later
“It’s freezing!” Rosie says with a giggle as we wait in line to load onto the hayride.
It’s December, and an early snow fell a few days ago, making the entire farm look magical.
It’s six weeks after Halloween, and even though we’ve both been ridiculously busy with the holidays approaching and the holiday rush at both of our stores, we’ve made sure that every Monday night is our date night.
We spent the entire day together since both of our stores were closed.
We started at Rosie’s, and I helped her clean while she restocked, took inventory, and reordered anything she was running low on before we went to my place and repeated the process.
Normally, we try and stay up late two nights a week to do it so we have a full day off together, but it’s been so busy for both of us, we haven’t managed it.
Since things are going well at the shop, though, I’m seriously contemplating finally hiring someone a couple of days a week to manage the store, and I know Rosie is too.
Now that I have someone in my life who matters to me, I find I don’t feel as desperate to control every single moment.
I’d rather be with Rosie whenever possible.
But now, we’re at the farm I saw a sign for back when we went to dinner with Rosie’s sisters, waiting to board the holiday hayride.
I smile down at her, pulling her in against my chest, then tucking my jacket around both of us.
“I’ve got you,” I say, tucking her into my arms to share my warmth.
Even though I did convince her to wear a jacket this time around, considering it’s December, she’s still not as bundled as I would have preferred for her comfort, wearing a pair of thick tights and a skirt.
“It’s date night, Jack,” she had told me when I informed her it would be freezing tonight.
“I have to look cute.” I didn’t bother arguing, as I’ve found it is of no use when it comes to Rosie and wearing what she deems to be cute outfits, so I threw a couple of extra hand warmers into my pockets and came to terms with the fact that at some point, I’d be giving her my jacket.
She looks around conspiratorially before turning in my arms and digging something out of her pockets.
“Here,” she whispers, holding out what looks like a truffle.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “One of Vi’s Warm You Up cinnamon chocolate truffles.
It’ll keep us warm.” I smile wide then open my mouth for her to give me the chocolate, letting it melt on my tongue.
Instantly, Vi’s magic floods my veins. It feels different than Rosie’s, a bit harsher, less patient, much like the woman herself, but with it comes warmth, soaring quickly to my fingers and toes.
The feeling returns in my nose, and I smile down at Rosie as she chews her own truffle, a flush coming to her cheeks.
“Next!” a voice calls, and glancing over Rosie’s head, I see that the line before us has vanished, and an impatient-looking employee in a Santa hat is waving us onto the hayride that is twined with white fairy lights.
Letting my girl go, I take her hand into mine and step onto the trailer with her, grateful that somehow, we’ve made it to this place where we exist beyond Halloween.
“I’m ready,” Rosie whispers nervously, hours later, when we step into my shop.
We’ve spent more nights here than at her place, despite the news that my grandfather can, in fact, move from place to place willingly.
I can’t tell if it’s just because Rosie knows I feel more comfortable in my own space or if she genuinely just likes staying here, but I haven’t questioned it.
Neither of us has tried to have the move-in conversation, even though I haven’t spent a night away from Rosie since Halloween, except for a couple of nights when she had sister sleepovers.
But even then, if she was staying at her place, she snuck over to mine for a few hours before tiptoeing back to her place to be there when the girls woke up.
Despite things still being new, we’ve talked about the future plenty of times, so I know eventually, we’re going to buy a house together on the outskirts of Heartwood Hollow, where I’ll make sure Rosie gets her white picket fence and however many kids she wants.
As an only child, I’ve loved hearing her stories about growing up with sisters, and even more so, watching them interact.
“Ready?” I ask, confused as I close the door behind us, taking off my jacket and hanging it on the coatrack I put next to the door.
I still lock the door even though she always makes fun of me, but she doesn’t seem to understand that the most important thing in my life sleeps under this roof with me.
It’s a small concession to keep her safe.
But that’s out of my mind as I watch Rosie’s hands lift, moving behind her neck, and my heart starts to race.
She’s taking off her locket.
Her amulet, as she loves to remind me.
“Rosie…”
“I’m ready, Jack,” she whispers.
We haven’t redone the kiss bond since it wore off, both of us aware of how the intense emotions could impact us.
I didn’t want to put any form of doubt into Rosie’s mind, wanting her to know that all of my thoughts, feelings, and words of adoration were mine and mine alone, not a side effect of the intense bond of her magic.
But god, I’ve missed it. I liked having that connection to her, which gave me a better understanding of her feelings and reactions. And, of course, the sex. The sex while bonded was definitely intense, not that sex without it hasn’t been ground-shaking.
She slowly and intentionally redoes the clasp of the necklace before she takes a few steps toward me. Her free hand reaches for mine, grabbing my wrist and turning my hand so it’s facing up before setting the chain into my palm and gently curling my fingers around the warm metal.
“Rosie,” I start. “We don’t have to do this. I know it can make things confusing, and—”
“Jack, there is nothing confusing about what I feel for you. I love you. You love me. My magic will always be a part of me, and it will always be something that ties us together. I want to take you to the club and chat with Geraldine and Casey, and have them know you’re mine, for real.
I want you to know for sure if Vi is slipping you something to try and be funny.
” She’s referring to two weeks ago when Vi gave me her lusty lemon cookies and Rosie and I had to close our shops for a day, not that I minded.
“I want to know what you’re feeling, and I want to have even more of an excuse to be close to you.
” She takes off her coat and throws it to the ground like she couldn’t care less, her eyes locked on mine as she steps closer to me. “I want the bond, Jack.”
My heart is pounding as I take a step closer to her, but not close enough to close the gap between us.
I’m afraid that if I get any closer, if I can feel the warmth of her on me, I’ll lose all common sense.
And just like the last time she bonded me, I want to have a few moments of sanity, of clear thinking before the magic takes over.
“How attached are you to this necklace?” I ask softly, pushing her hair behind her shoulders. She’s looking at me, confused, and like every look she has, it looks pretty on her.
“What?”
“I’ll get you something new, something Rosie, to replace it, of course.
” Her brow furrows deeper, and I brush my thumb along it, trying to smooth it out.
“I don’t want you ever wearing it when you kiss me again,” I whisper.
A shiver runs through me, but I’m concentrated on her wide, hopeful eyes on mine.
“You want the bond?”
I smile softly, brushing a thumb over her lips.
“I want everything with you, Rosie. But we can start with your kiss bond.” Her eyes widen further before she bites her lip.
“I don’t know the long-term effects, not really. I haven’t asked anyone. We could—” Panic is surging, but I shake my head.
“I don’t care, Rosie. I really don’t fucking care. I want you. All of you. And I definitely want anything that makes you feel just as crazy as I do about you.” She smiles wide, though her eyes are shining.
“I already feel that.”
“Perfect.” I continue to stare at her, to take in every change of her face, to catalog it because I never plan to see her without those golden strands dancing along her skin again, if I have my way.
“Are you going to kiss me?” she asks softly after a long moment. I smile wide.
“Not yet.”
Her awe shifts into irritation. “What?”
“I’ve wondered what starts it,” I whisper, then press my lips to her forehead. Nothing happens, and I smile.
“What?”
“Is it just your lips? Or is it the intention?” I press my lips to her temple and pull back again, not seeing those gorgeous strands.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
She’s smiling now before pointing to her cheek. “What about here?” I press my lips where she points and pull back, smiling. She moves to point at her neck, and I follow, letting my tongue taste her this time. A heavy breath leaves her parted lips.
Then her hands move, pulling the low, stretchy neck of her sweater down, the cup of her bra going with it. I groan when I see her full breast, her pink nipple already peaked. “Here?”
“For science,” I say low and sense more than see her smile in response as I drop my head, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nipple. A feather-light breath coasts along the back of my neck as she lets out a pleasure-filled sigh.