Epilogue
GARRETT
Two Years Later
Peony walks down the grassy aisle in time to the string quartet’s version of “With You in My Arms.”
With each step she takes, dropping rose petals from her basket, the hem of her pale-pink flower-girl dress swishes against her legs.
I can’t get over how my little girl is almost four years old.
She reaches the front row, where Zara and I are seated. Flashing us her trademark sassy grin, she waves and blows a kiss for her baby brother asleep in my arms.
Her adorable gesture is greeted with a light chorus of “Awww” from those seated around us. She gives her audience a big silly smile and a wave, then skips down the row to join us.
Zara puts Peony’s small basket on the ground by her chair and hugs our daughter. She says something in Peony’s ear that has our little girl nodding excitedly.
My beautiful wife of sixteen months straightens, beams at me, and leans in for a kiss. I happily oblige. I never turn down the chance to kiss her—whether it be in public or behind closed doors.
Kenan stirs in my arms at the movement, but his little eyelids remain shut. Long black lashes fan against golden-brown skin. He’s the perfect combination of Zara and me.
Zara kisses our two-month-old small-miracle’s cheek. And like magic, he settles back to sleep.
I missed out on Peony being this age. I’m glad I won’t miss out on Kenan’s early years. My publisher agreed to slow my release schedule to a book a year for the time being so I can focus on the things that matter—my career, yes, but mostly my friends, my wife, and my beautiful children.
The last few months were crazy enough as it was, what with two book releases six months apart and a movie premiere. There’s talk of turning one of my earlier books into a limited-series TV show.
And after my daughter and Zara were kidnapped, there were no more issues with stalkers or overzealous fans sending me unwanted letters. The FBI tracked down and arrested the person who had sent me the previous messages.
Our lives have been relatively peaceful.
Peony whispers to Zoe, who’s standing next to her. The pair giggle at whatever Peony said, and Lucas has to press his finger to his lips, a smile sneaking behind it, to remind them not to get too silly. For now.
They grab hold of each other’s hands. I can only imagine what kind of trouble the two best friends will get into together as they get older. The idea of that makes me smile.
Next up are the two maids of honor in light-green, knee-length dresses. They walk down the aisle and take their position on either side of the ordained minister.
The music switches to the “Wedding March,” and everyone seated under the white canopy stands.
Lauren walks down the aisle first, her father by her side. She’s wearing an off-white silk jumpsuit, her black hair twisted up in a French knot, and she’s carrying a bouquet of pink roses .
Her father kisses her cheek and walks to where her mother is sitting, smiling and dabbing her wet cheeks with a handkerchief.
Lauren stands next to her maid of honor, her eager gaze fixed in the direction she just came from.
And then Athena walks down the aisle in a sleeveless white gown that is as simple as it is pretty. She’s beautiful, but nowhere near as gorgeous as Zara was on our wedding day.
No one is as gorgeous as the mother of my children—my best friend, my lover, my wife.
Lauren’s cousin is by Athena’s side. Charles beams proudly at the woman who is not only Peony’s and Kenan’s nanny, but who is also a children’s book author. Her debut picture book, which she wrote and illustrated, released last week to great fanfare.
Athena and Charles stop at the altar, and he kisses her on the cheek. He gives his cousin a hug and a kiss and joins his husband sitting at the end of the front row.
All this love has me thinking of Zara and of our wedding.
I loop my free arm around her waist and pull her to me, marveling at her strength, her passion, her drive, and her love.
Her love for me, for our children, for her friends and family, for the community.
Despite the chronic pain that is part of her everyday reality, she still shines bright like a star.
“In case I haven’t told you lately,” I murmur against her ear, “I love you.”
Her soft laugh vibrates through my chest from where her body touches mine. “You did mention that this morning. After you made me come.” Her whispered words are for my ears only.
Once the vows are exchanged, the wedding photos taken, and the happy couple have danced their first dance together, I take Zara in my arms, and we sway to Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect.”
Peony and Zoe are also dancing, but they’re moving to a much faster beat, heard only in their heads, which makes me chuckle.
Kenan is asleep in his infant car seat, his two grandmothers keeping an eye on him at their table while Zara and I dance.
I trace my thumb over the scars peeking from under the thin strap of Zara’s dress. A delicate tattoo of pink carnations weaves and twists around the thick scars—the beautiful artwork a permanent memorial to Kenda and Emily.
And a reminder of how close I came to losing my daughter and the woman I love.
When Zara walked with me on the red carpet four months ago for the movie premiere of Untold Mercy , people knew she was the woman who had been kidnapped with my daughter. There was no way she could avoid them knowing. She had testified in court two months before that.
But none of those things are what the reporters asked us about.
They focused on how she was the muse for my hero’s love interest, and on how she is best known for the work she’s doing to bring awareness to spondyloarthritis, especially in women.
“In case I haven’t told you lately,” Zara says, “I love you too.”
I brush a soft kiss on her lips, branding her with my love.
Branding her with our forever.
Forty minutes later, I wrap my arms around Zara from behind. “How much longer before I get to make love to my wife?” I murmur in her ear.
Zara nods at Peony and Kenan, who are enjoying their grandmothers’ attention. “As soon as we get them settled in bed…you’re mine.” The smoky promise of her voice goes straight to my cock, and I almost groan in response. She lightly strokes her thumb along my wrist.
At home, I help Peony into her pajamas and read her a story while Zara nurses Kenan. He’s practically in a breast-milk coma by the time they’re finished. She lays him down in his crib.
Zara goes to say good night to Peony, and I watch my sleeping son for a few minutes.
“Sweet dreams, little man,” I tell him. He doesn’t stir.
I turn on the baby monitor and walk to Zara’s and my bedroom. Zara is in the bathroom, so I shuck off my clothes and climb under the covers. I’m checking my socials when she walks into the bedroom wearing lacy panties and a see-through fuchsia slip that barely brushes the tops of her thighs.
And damn, my wife is even sexier than normal, and normally she’s sexy as hell .
I put my phone on the nightstand, almost missing it because I can’t take my eyes off Zara. “I haven’t seen that outfit before.”
“It’s new. You like?” She does a little twirl, the skirt flaring around her hips, and I’m rewarded with a glimpse of her smooth stomach.
“I do. I love you naked too.” The corner of my mouth slips up to one side, the thoughts of getting my hands on my wife making my cock excited. It presses into the loose sheet, tenting the cotton.
I toss the sheet aside and stride over to the most gorgeous woman in the world. The ends of her multiple braids rest on top of her breasts. I sweep the braids aside, revealing the thin strap holding up her slip.
Zara’s rose-brown nipples tempt me through the purple gauze. I slide the strap over her shoulder and nudge it down her arm. I do the same with the other strap, and the slip falls and pools around her ankles.
I trace my finger along the fullness of her breasts and circle her nipple. Zara’s breath hitches, and I can’t help the smile that curves on my lips. She never fails to respond to my touches, to let me know how much she craves them.
She knots her fingers in my hair and lightly tugs, sending a rush of desire between my legs. “God, Garrett. I want you so badly inside me.”
I also want that—in a moment.
I thread my fingers with hers and lead her to the bed. “Sit.” I point where I want her.
Zara grins. “Always so bossy.”
She sits on the edge of the bed, and I kneel in front of her. I hook my fingers on the waistband of her panties and peel them down her legs.
Eager to taste her, I toss the panties to the side and lift her leg onto my shoulder, opening her up to me. I lick along her pussy and flick her clit with my tongue.
“Oh, Garrett…” she moans, her head falling back, lengthening her neck. Her very kissable neck.
“Enjoying that, Golden Girl?” I grin at the woman who is squirming on the bed, clearly desperate for sweet relief. I know that sign only too well.
She lifts her head, her eyes bright, a sexy one-sided smile on her face. “Definitely. ”
I push a finger inside her and curve it how I know she likes it. I’m rewarded with a groan, and I withdraw my finger part way. I thrust it in and out, in and out, and add a second one, stretching her soft heat. My tongue continues to tease her clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
She writhes under my touch, bucking against my mouth, her needy moans wanton. Her soft heat grips me tightly, begs me to not remove my fingers from inside her.
“Oh. God. Garrett.” Her voice is quiet so not to wake up the kids, and she bites on her bottom lip as if trying to keep from crying out loud.
Her heat convulses around my fingers as she falls apart under me. An endless wave of aftershocks tells me I hit the right spot as always with her. She flops back on the bed, looking dazed and happy and thoroughly satiated.
I unhook her leg from my shoulder and give her a moment to recover. Then we scoot farther up the mattress.
I lie next to her, and a sly smile lifts my mouth.
She pushes me onto my back and shifts down so her mouth is at the tip of my cock. She opens those sweet, lush lips of hers and takes my tip into her mouth. Her fingers lightly squeeze my balls.
I run my fingers along her cheek, appreciating the view of my wife consuming me this way, of her performing her magic. I watch her until I can’t keep it together any longer. My thread of control is rapidly stretching just short of the point of no return.
“I need to be inside you. Now.” My words ride on a stuttering breath.
Zara releases me, and before she can move or say anything, I have her on her back, my body positioned between her legs. I take a second to absorb the beauty in front of me.
Her ripe lips part, begging for me to kiss her. So, I do. Thoroughly.
I position my cock at her entrance and ease my way in.
Then I make slow, soul-shattering love to my beautiful wife. Telling her without words she is my forever. Today. Tomorrow.
And for all eternity.
Thank you for reading ONE MORE HEARTBEAT.