Epilogue
COLLIN
I knew this hike like the back of my hand.
We’d done it at least a dozen times before our first child was born, and now that the kids were getting older, we’d probably bring them up here for a fun weekend camping trip.
But today was all about us—me and Paget—celebrating our ninth wedding anniversary.
Next year would be the big one. A full decade of wedded bliss—every day better than the last. We were already planning a trip to celebrate.
Not relaxing on an island or kicking back on a cruise.
No, that wasn’t for us. With me and Paget, it was scuba diving in Mexico or cliff camping in Colorado.
She constantly pulled me out of my comfort zone, and I was a better man for it.
She grinned back at me. “Come on!”
I stepped out onto our favorite overlook to stand next to my wife. This was where I proposed. We got married here too—a small ceremony, just the two of us and our witnesses. We had a bigger celebration later for extended friends and family, but that first wedding had just been for us.
There was still one thing we hadn’t done up here, though, and I planned to change that today. She had no idea, but she’d be getting a surprise soon.
I was pretty sure she’d be game. My girl was all about getting naughty in public places. We even made a return trip to the fire tower for our anniversary a couple of years ago.
She spread the blanket on the ground while I unpacked our provisions from my backpack—some cheese, meats, olives, veggies, and a small bottle of champagne. Just enough for two glasses.
“We should come up here more often,” she said as she helped me unpack. “I haven’t felt this at peace in weeks.”
Paget’s job was pretty high-stress. She worked remotely as a sales manager for a large digital advertising firm.
She’d started in sales, but when the kids were still young, she managed to leverage her skills into a promotion—one that reduced her travel significantly so she could be home with us like she wanted.
I handed her a plastic champagne flute and poured the bubbly liquid between the two of us. Normally, we’d each have a full glass, but we still had to hike back down this sucker. Besides, we needed to stay hydrated for the activity I had planned next.
“To us,” I said. “To nine of the happiest years of my life.”
“What about the two months before we got married?” she teased.
“Okay—nine years, two months, and twelve days. Not that anyone’s counting.”
“I can’t even remember life before I met you,” she said softly. “I feel like I should’ve known I was looking for you.”
“You knew. You just needed to wait until the right time to find me.”
She smiled, sipping her champagne.
“Ready to eat?” I asked, setting my now-empty flute down.
“You know,” she said as she grabbed a cracker and stacked it with cheese and salami, “I was thinking…it’s been a while since we…you know.”
I frowned. “We ‘you knowed’ just this morning. In the shower.”
She laughed. “And last night in bed after the kids were asleep.”
That was when most of our lovemaking happened—quietly under the covers in a pitch-dark room, the kids just down the hall.
But I got what she meant. It had been a while since we’d made love outside our house.
Our three-bedroom cabin—the one we’d built when we were expecting our first child—had seen its share of passion.
But out here, under the open sky? That was a different kind of excitement.
She set down her glass and gave me that look—the one that had always driven me wild. The one that said she knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.
“Out here?” I asked, voice already thick with anticipation.
She crawled across the blanket and straddled my lap, settling over me like she belonged there. “Unless you’ve got another overlook in mind,” she murmured, grinding down against the bulge in my hiking pants.
Fuck.
I grabbed her hips, pulling her tighter. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Promise?” she whispered, brushing her lips over mine.
Her tongue flicked out to tease, then pulled back. I chased her mouth, kissing her hard, deep, dirty. She moaned into it, grinding again. Her body already knew what it wanted, and it had no patience left.
I pulled her tank top over her head, baring her soft, sun-kissed skin to the mountain breeze. Her nipples were already pebbled, tight with arousal, and I took one into my mouth as she arched against me. She rocked harder now, her breath coming in soft, shallow pants.
“Take off your shorts,” I said, my voice rough with need. “Let me see you.”
She stood, wiggled out of them slowly, teasing, until she was left in nothing but a pair of pale pink panties stretched damp between her legs. I slid those down her thighs and she stepped out of them.
I moved to my knees, then kissed down her belly and lower. She gasped when my tongue met her, right there, standing at the edge of the blanket, the mountain air wrapping around us while I made her moan.
I dragged it out, licking and sucking until her legs shook. Until she begged for more.
“Lie down,” I told her.
She lowered herself onto the blanket, eyes locked on mine as I stripped off my shirt, then unzipped my pants and shoved them down along with my briefs. My cock sprang free, already throbbing with need.
She reached for it, stroking it once, then twice, with a look that was half reverence, half lust. “I need you.”
I moved over her, sliding between her thighs. Her legs parted, welcoming me in, and when I thrust into her, she cried out, loud and free and unashamed. The heat of her surrounded me like a velvet glove. Tight. Wet. Perfect.
I didn’t move at first. I just held there, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to hers. “God, I love you,” I whispered.
“Show me,” she said.
So I did.
I rocked into her slow and deep, watching her face as every thrust pushed her closer to the edge. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, her nails digging in. I shifted my angle, grinding into her with each stroke, and her head fell back on a moan.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
I wasn’t stopping for anything. I picked up the pace, thrusting harder now, hips slapping against her as we climbed together. Her body clamped down around me, her cries getting louder, her back arching off the blanket.
“I’m going to…oh…Collin…”
She shattered around me, clenching tight, her body wracked with tremors as the orgasm tore through her. That was all it took. With a groan ripped straight from my chest, I came, pumping hard into her, emptying myself with a force that left me shaking.
We lay there for a while, tangled together on the blanket, the wind teasing sweat-damp strands of her hair. Eventually, I rolled to my side, pulling her into me. She curled up, head on my chest, one leg slung over mine.
“Damn,” she whispered.
I laughed. “Yeah. Damn.”
The sun was dipping lower now, casting golden light across the valley below. The overlook stretched out in front of us like something out of a painting—layers of trees and sky and endless possibility.
She tilted her head back to look at me. “Nine years, two kids, a million memories, and that still felt like the first time.”
I kissed her forehead. “Better than the first time.”
She smiled. “We’ve had a pretty wild ride, haven’t we?”
“Wouldn’t change a second of it.”
“Not even the time I set off the fire alarm trying to make French toast?”
“Especially not that.” I grinned.
Her eyes softened. “I love our life.”
“Me too.”
We lay there, warm and spent, watching the shadows stretch across the mountaintops. And even after all these years, I knew one thing for certain. The best was still ahead of us.
She escaped a cult to marry him. He had no idea until she showed up on his doorstep, then fainted.