Epilogue
LOGAN
“Look at these leggings.” Poppy grunts while she hikes them up her legs, smoothing them on like butter on bread. “I can’t believe I fit in them.”
I’m too busy staring at her ass jiggling while she jumps and shimmies into them to care why she fits in them at all.
“We’re getting married in ten minutes,” I say while watching the leggings cover her ass. “Why are you putting leggings on?”
“Because,” Poppy snaps as she gets them up all the way. “I don’t want to fall down and accidentally flash my underwear at all the people in our lives. What if we’re dancing and you drop me? What if my undies tear? No one needs to see my vagina.”
“P.” I put my hands on either side of her face, stopping her from whatever craziness she is cooking up in her head. “I have never dropped you. I will never drop you. I promise. I got you.”
She kisses me. “I know. Now get out, so I can get dressed. Meet you at the end of the aisle. Bring our boy. And don’t forget the rings.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ten minutes later, I watch her walk out the back door of her father’s house, holding on to his arm with a smile on her face, and I know my life has never been so complete.
Nothing I’ve gone through in all my years has prepared me for the absolute mix of feelings all racing through my chest at the same time. Fear that she’s going to turn around and run in the other direction. Terror, that I might not be good enough. Love for her. Excitement at the fact that she’s agreed to walk down the aisle and marry me. Happiness. Pure, unfiltered happiness at the life we get to build together, finally.
The white dress on her hips clings to every curve, and you can’t even tell she’s wearing leggings underneath it. It’s filmy but smooth, moving with her in a way that captures the light and makes it look like she’s walking on air.
I don’t even notice the other women, the ones who started down the aisle before her. Can’t describe the color of their dresses or what they look like.
I don’t even spare a glance for Nox and the flower girl.
Poppy is the only person in the entire universe.
The one I can’t take my eyes off.
And when her father puts her hand in mine and takes my son into his arms, I know that every moment of heartache and misery that I’ve ever suffered through and caused… They’ve all led to this one moment in time.
The perfect moment when Poppy swears to love me until the zombie apocalypse in her wedding vows.
“I swear, no matter how crazy you get, or how many things you put on my plate, I will love you until my dying breath.” I smile down at her. “I will go along with your zombie plans and be prepared for whatever happens. Even if you decide you want to buy a hundred chickens and start a hobby farm, I will be here. There’s nothing, and no one, that will ever take me away from you again.”
While everyone laughs around us, I kiss her, claiming my bride before the officiant gives us the direction.
“Dance with me, Lo. We’re married. All of our friends have had their babies and no one is pregnant anymore. I’m not going to prison for murdering anyone since Niles found all the incriminating evidence against you-know-who and Trooper Douche is officially off my back. I haven’t seen a taco in over a month. Everything in my life is perfect.”
I look up from my plate and see Poppy standing there with the skirt of her dress held in one hand and the other held out for me.
When I take her hand and guide her onto the dance floor, an upbeat song comes on. Actually, it’s the song from Dirty Dancing . Everyone knows the song. The one where Patrick Swayze picks up Jennifer Grey.
“Dom!” Emma shouts from across the room.
He turns to face her with a resigned look on his face.
“Come on, then.”
And we watch her sprint across the room, barefoot and wearing a bridesmaid dress.
Dom drops her.
Ha.
That’s right.
She slips out of his hands and drops down his back with a screech that’s loud and sharp enough to break glass.
“You jerk!” She clambers up off the ground while glaring daggers at her husband. “You did that on purpose.”
Dom’s face is comical, and it is clear he didn’t actually mean to drop her. Maybe scare her, but not drop her.
“See?” Poppy elbows me. “This is why I’m afraid of you dropping me.”
“Never.” I kiss her forehead. “I will never drop you. I don’t care if it’s something like a joke. It won’t happen. I’d die first before I ever hurt you.”
“You better not die.” She pokes me in the chest. “I need you to rub my back and tell me I’m pretty. Plus, it’s finally been six weeks since Kill was born.”
I take her by the hand, leading her away from the growing fight between Emma and Dom without looking back.
She’s laughing and trying to watch the fight from over her shoulder. “Where are we going?”
“I’m gonna strip those leggings off you, and then I’m gonna bend you over a table in the nearest room with a lock and take you until you scream my name.”
She does.
Twice.
It still isn’t enough.
It will never be enough with her.
But I’ll have her forever, and that will keep all my nightmares at bay.