Epilogue
Duke
One Year Later
My eyes flicked over the stack of papers as I thumbed through them one last time. “This is everything?”
My attorney Joss’s rich leather chair creaked as he leaned back and propped his hands behind his head. “It’s all I’ve got.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I have to admit, this was not how I predicted this thing would have played out.”
I let out a soft grunt. No fucking kidding.
Joss leaned forward. “It was awfully convenient JP handed you everything his father was digging up about your land’s mineral rights.” His assessing eyes narrowed. “Just... be careful.”
I swallowed and nodded. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Shortly after August was born, JP went back to his typical arrogant self, but for now—as long as I had any say in it—Sullivan Farms was protected. I would provide for Sylvie and August until my dying breath.
“I’ll get everything filed on Monday.” With a nod, Joss’s features clicked from attorney mode to friend mode. His expression bordered on mischief and humor. “Want to grab a beer? Find some trouble?”
I scoffed. Friday nights never held much appeal, even less so now. “Nah, I can’t. Got to get home to my wife.”
My wife.
The words tumbled inside me and never ceased to send a ripple of excitement through my typically locked-down stoicism.
I shook Joss’s hand and offered a sincere thank-you for everything he’d done for us in the last year. With the information JP had provided and piecing together bits that Lark, Annie, and the rest of the Bluebirds had dug up, a new heartbreaking history in Outtatowner came into view.
Bootsy had, in fact, been a descendant of the Sinclairs.
Once that connection had been made, Annie uncovered a series of letters at the Remington County Historical Association from Helen, addressed to her brother.
In it, she revealed that when she’d married Philo Sullivan, they’d wanted to get out of the bootlegging business because it was unsafe.
She’d begged her brother to reconsider the offer from James to take their place.
From what we could tell, James King acted like a man betrayed, simply because his friends’ departure from the illegal business was bad for his bottom line.
Ultimately, he affirmed the help of Helen’s brother, despite Helen’s pleading.
Together the two men skirted the law to successfully bootleg during Prohibition, ultimately making the Kings a prominent and wealthy family in Outtatowner.
Eventually James King’s greed consumed him.
Slowly the Kings made enough sly business decisions, excluding the Sinclairs, relegating them to nothing more than the eyes and ears on the ground to the King empire.
The feud took a darker turn when my own father married the very woman Russell King intended to wed.
His deep-seated rage couldn’t handle such an affront, and Russell took it upon himself to fan the flames of the feud for years .
Before long no one remembered the real reasons behind the Sullivan–King feud. Or maybe no one cared.
It didn’t matter. Nothing and no one could stop me from loving Sylvie. I was always meant to be hers.
I stepped out of Joss’s office building and into the afternoon sunlight, taking one look at where I’d parked my truck and sighing.
In its place was a giant gift-wrapped package in the exact size and shape of my truck. My jaw clenched and I bent to look beneath my truck.
They even wrapped the fucking underside.
I snapped a quick picture and sent it to Lee. His response was immediate, and I didn’t bother stifling my grin.
Lee
On it.
My relationship with Sylvie was nothing short of a miracle in our small town, but that didn’t mean the pranks between the Kings and Sullivans had ceased completely. Slowly we were passing the torch to the younger generation, but we always made sure the mischief lacked malice.
When I pulled down our driveway at Sullivan Farms, the crunch of tires over gravel caught Ed’s attention.
He bounded toward my truck with Duck waddling closely behind.
Those two remained inseparable, and now I had to worry about running over two dumbasses as they barked and quaked and circled my truck.
I pushed the door open, and Ed nosed at my leg. “Yeah, yeah. I see you, buddy.” I scratched behind his long ears before bending down to give Duck the affection he also demanded. I climbed out of the truck and addressed the duo. “Where’s Mama?”
Ed yipped and spun in a wonky three-legged circle.
“Find Mama.” Ed raced toward the farmhouse with Duck waddling behind him. As I meandered toward the porch, my heart stopped.
There she is.
On the top step, Sylvie had Gus propped on her hip, and one hand shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun.
“Hey, handsome!” A warm smile split her face, flashing pretty white teeth as she hoisted our son higher on her hip.
Gus squealed and reached for me. I took the steps two at a time just to get to them faster. My nose buried in her soft hair as I wrapped them both in my arms and inhaled the sunshine and cinnamon scents that clung to her skin.
My nose teased the thin skin along her neck, and I hummed. “I missed you two.”
Sylvie’s laugh vibrated her throat, and my teeth scraped against her before planting a soothing kiss. “You were gone for an hour.”
I straightened, frowning down at my lovely wife. “Still missed you.”
A rosy blush deepened her cheeks. I held my arms out to our son. “Come here, kid.”
August launched himself at me with a babbling squeal, and I used my free arm to pull Sylvie closer. I dropped a kiss on her crown. “I have an idea.”
Sylvie shifted to look at me with a curious frown.
I gently squeezed her arm. “It’ll be great, I promise.
” I guided her toward the swinging bed we’d installed on the front porch—another Pinterest idea of hers that I was happy to build.
“You, sit.” Sylvie plopped onto the swing as I laid a blanket across her ankles.
“Take a rest while Gus and I fix you dinner. I’ll get you a glass of wine so you can read a book and relax.
Then I’d like to take you somewhere.” Sylvie’s pert little mouth popped open to argue, but I shut her up with a kiss.
“No arguing. Lark is coming by, and she and Penny are taking him to the park. It’s all handled. ”
Even after all this time, it still seemed to surprise Sylvie how much I liked taking care of her. How I craved it simply because her happiness was integral to mine. I didn’t think I’d ever shake the need to care for others, and it felt like nothing at all to do little things for my woman.
Sylvie picked up the paperback she kept stashed on the porch. “If you say so.” Her expression grew flirtatious as she found her place marked in the book. “But I’m warning you... I’m getting to the dirty parts, and I’m going to want a full reenactment later.”
I feigned shock and looked at our son. “Don’t listen to your mama. That’s for Daddy’s ears only.”
Sylvie’s throaty laugh hummed through me as I leaned forward to whisper in her ear. I let my voice dip low and gravelly. “Baby, I’m counting on it.”
Sylvie floated on the paddleboard like a weightless mermaid as her blonde hair spread through the water like oil. She was a goddess. My everything.
“Mmm...,” she hummed as my fingertips glided over her smooth thighs, sending water droplets careening down her skin.
“So it was a good date?” My hands moved higher, settling at her hip.
Sylvie peeked one eye open. “It was a perfect date. Out here I feel so... relaxed.”
I adjusted the paddleboard so that my hands could reach into her hair and massage her scalp. Her nipples pebbled through her bathing suit top at my touch. My mouth went dry at the appearance of those tight, hard buds, and an idea sparked.
“One last stop.” Her head tilted toward me as I continued, “Let’s check out our island.”
When I had paddled us close to the shore, Sylvie hopped off the board and waded through the water toward the beach. She turned, and her eyes lit up with wonder as she stripped from the life jacket and deposited it on the sand. “It’s exactly the same!”
I looked around as I relieved myself of my own jacket and the dry bag I’d slung over my shoulders. Not much at all had changed from the day I’d brought her to the secluded island. I glanced at Sylvie. Yet everything had changed.
Crowding her space, I leaned down to scoop her in my arms. Her mouth met mine in a fervor. Tongue and teeth and lips clashed as we moaned into each other. My arms tightened around her back as her legs squeezed around my waist.
“Do you remember when I brought you here? Because I remember every detail like it was yesterday.” My forehead pressed to hers.
“How could I forget? A secret date with you was the biggest sin I could commit, but I couldn’t help myself.” Sylvie peppered kisses across my face as I moved us closer to the tree line.
I sank to my knees, settling her back against the soft sand. “You’ve always been worth every sin.”
Sylvie arched into me. Begging. Pleading. I knew the rhythms of her body better than I knew my own.
Our life together had been made possible by a series of improbable miracles, yet I couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of being completely grounded by her. Our pasts intertwined in a way that made me feel secure. Understood.
My palms grazed over the peaks of her breasts as she squirmed beneath me. My cock ached to stretch her open and be buried to the hilt. Nothing felt as complete as sharing myself with Sylvie. Nothing .
That woman was the beginning and end of everything.
Her fingertips glided down my pecs and teased the hemline of my swim trunks. “Do you remember what we talked about?” She waggled her eyebrows.
I lifted one brow. “We talk about a lot.”
Her laugh sent a thousand sparks through my chest. “I think we should try. I never started my new birth control pack.”
My heart thrummed, and my nostrils flared at her implication. Over the last few months we’d been toying with the idea of getting her pregnant—on purpose this time.
My palm flattened against her chest as I settled over her and drank her beauty in.
I wasn’t a fool enough to think we had a whole lot of say in the matter. If our past was any indication, a baby was bound to come whenever it damn well pleased, but I knew we’d have a hell of a good time trying.