Epilogue #2
“To be fair, Cain did warn us. He wasn’t even subtle about it.”
He’d called the place a ‘money pit.’
The problem was, we’d been in love with the house, the location, the proximity to the club, and her parents.
Besides, we had the money.
I had more than enough with my savings and the club income. Her business was only getting bigger and bigger. She had staff now.
We could afford to fix the place up.
Which was what we’d been doing since the moment the papers were signed.
Little by little, we’d handled any structural issues, got a new HVAC, furnace, hot water heater, and some old electrical. Then we’d started on the more aesthetic stuff: refinishing floors, changing cabinets, and putting up crown molding.
The bathrooms had been nearly last on our list. But thanks to a leak in the primary shower, we had to move it up.
“Might as well just have them do all three bathrooms then,” Gracie said, exhaling hard.
We both hated having strangers in and out of our space all the time. Not to mention the mess.
“I was thinking…”
“About?”
“Using the hall shower for the next two months. Then we can have them come in and do the construction while we’re off on the honeymoon.”
“That,” she said, giving me a smile, “might be the best idea you’ve ever had.”
“To make it even better, we have the club prospects come in and clean everything top to bottom before we get back.”
“You might just be a genius,” she decided. The cold stuff put away, she abandoned the rest to come to me and run her hands up my chest.
The club had quite a few new prospects these days with Roderick and Liv’s and Camden and Annie’s kids finally joining the ranks. They needed some work to keep them busy. We needed a clean house to come home to.
It was a win/win.
“I have my good qualities,” I said.
“Mmmhmm,” she agreed, eyes going warm.
“Want me to remind you of another?”
There was no mistaking the heat in my voice.
“Yes,” she said, then watched me lower to my knees in front of her.
“Fucking love these damn dresses,” I said as my fingers teased up her thighs. “Such easy access.”
I slipped under, slid her panties to the side, and licked until her thighs were shaking and she was begging for my cock.
Then I went ahead and bent her over our brand new island and gave her exactly what she needed.
Gracie - 14 months
“See? This is why I eloped,” Layna said as I helped my assistant fix a minor catastrophe that popped up.
The problem was, this was at my wedding. And each ‘tiny problem’ someone brought to me made my stomach feel like it was bottoming out.
Even though I knew from experience that almost everything could be fixed with relative ease, from catering issues to alcohol shortages, I’d seen and handled it all. Just not while, you know, trying to enjoy the festivities.
“Sure,” Violet said, rolling her eyes at Layna. “That’s why you eloped.”
Layna’s situation was a whole story. But one for another time.
“Have I thanked you and Wick for letting us use your house?” I asked, smiling at Violet.
And by ‘house,’ I meant their private island. Complete with its own boat in case we wanted or needed to get to one of the mainlands on our stay. Perish had actually been taking lessons for both boating and survival, just in case we had any issues.
We wouldn’t.
The house was state-of-the-art, complete with solar power and fully stocked cupboards and refrigerators, not to mention an island full of fruit trees.
But I loved how proactive he was, how he was always trying to make sure he was prepared for the worst so he could protect me from that fate.
“He’s gonna get a kick out of the birds,” Violet said with a knowing smile.
“You know him well.”
“Hey, baby,” my mom said, ducking back into the room in her pretty baby pink gown. She was the prettiest mother of the bride I’d ever seen. “Your father is just outside. We’re about ready.”
I slowly stood, flattening a hand down my belly.
I’d always loved a full princess gown but was too short for the style.
I’d gone with a soft A-line dress with a deep V neckline, structured lace with floral appliqués, and a skirt made of layers of fine tulle.
It was modern but romantic and ethereal.
My hair was down, with a waist-length headband veil that didn’t cover my face.
Makeup was subtle.
The only jewelry I had was the borrowed earrings my mother had given me.
The whole look I felt fit the venue.
Which was, as no surprise to anyone, at the Grassi’s barn where Perish had saved me the first time.
When I’d walked around earlier, I had a few moments of remembering the divorce party I’d been working on that night: the damn castrated ice sculpture, the table of sex toys.
But as a whole, the place had been transformed into a completely different place with rustic tables and chairs and more flowers than I could even count.
It was a touch feminine. But when I’d worried about that, Perish had waved my concerns away, saying that was what he loved about me: how soft I was.
“Hey, sweetheart,” my father said, his eyes looking a little watery. “You ready?”
I slid my arm through his and leaned my head against his shoulder.
“Yes.”
The wedding itself was outside on the sprawling green that Perish had brought back to its former glory. Not a single weed could be found as my father led me to the arbor, pausing for the grand entrance—and for the photographer to get some good shots—before walking me down the aisle toward Perish.
It was all a watery blur as my father handed me off to my soon-to-be husband.
Perish reached up, wiping away a tear.
Then he leaned down and whispered, “If you get too watery, just think of the ice penis.”
It was the little bit of levity I needed to get me through the ceremony without crying through my supposedly waterproof mascara.
Perish - 3 years
“I can get my own tea,” Gracie insisted as I lifted our one-year-old off her chest and set him in the crib.
We’d gone ahead and started our family on that very quiet, very secluded island honeymoon of ours. Several weeks of loud, sweaty, outdoor sex that would forever be some of my favorite memories.
Gracie had been sick as fuck on the plane ride home. At first, we’d figured she’d picked up a bug somewhere along the way.
But, nope.
The stick turned the right color, and we were gonna be three instead of two.
Luckily for us, the house had finally been done, and all we needed to do was decorate the nursery to be ready for the next phase of our lives.
The thing was, well, Duke and Penny had taken the baby so we could have a weekend away.
And we’d gone ahead and taken advantage of a lot of naked adult time and gotten Gracie pregnant again.
“You need to rest.”
“You’ve barely let me lift a finger all morning,” she reminded me.
“Good. You don’t need to. I got you.”
“My doctor and my midwife both agreed that activity is good for me and the baby.”
“Maybe. I want a third opinion. Maybe a fourth and fifth too.”
To that, she laughed softly as she got to her feet.
“If you try to carry me, I swear to God,” she warned.
I held up my hands and followed her out into the living room, where she immediately dropped down on the couch and reached for a blanket.
She could say she wanted activity all she wanted, but the first few months of a pregnancy took the piss out of her. She was always sick. And when she wasn’t sick, she was exhausted from being sick.
She needed all the rest she could get.
If this pregnancy was anything like the last, once she got to the fifth-month mark, she would magically feel better and be ready to take on the world.
Until then, I didn’t mind picking up the slack.
“Want some crackers with your tea?” I asked.
She looked momentarily green at the idea but nodded. “Yeah, I guess.” She needed the calories, even if we both knew she’d rather just starve her way through these days.
I was back in a few minutes with the ginger tea and crackers.
“Just stay as still as possible,” I reminded her after she managed to choke down a few before washing them down with tea.
“You know why women have the babies?” she asked, leaning her head against my chest.
“Because there’s no way I’d be signing up for this kind of torture?” I asked, fingers drifting through her hair.
“Yep,” she agreed. “Remember when you had the flu last year?”
I’d been a big fucking baby about it, I’m willing to admit now. Especially after seeing her go through pregnancy, childbirth, and the recovery from both.
“You should have shipped me off to the clubhouse to suffer.”
“Nah,” she said, her fingers tracing over the tattoo that peeked out of my neckline. “I like taking care of you.”
“I like taking care of you too.” There was a cry from the other room. “I like taking care of you both,” I amended as I got up to get the baby.
And I did.
Fuck, more than I ever could have known I would.
I’d had a lot of time to get used to and comfortable with the role of caretaker for Gracie. In the years before we even hooked up, then more so after.
I’d been nervous about fatherhood, though. I knew from a physical and financial standpoint that I had what it took. I’d been worried about the emotional shit, though. The kind of thing I’d never known from my own parents.
I’d been surprised how easily it came.
Which only made me all the more pissed off at my own mother and father.
Because loving your kid?
That shit was the easiest thing in the world.
But they hadn’t even been capable of that.
The difference being, I was. Capable of love, of support, of seeing that my kid’s and wife’s needs were met.
If anything, I was a little worried about being overprotective as they got bigger. But after talking with the club, I found that was a normal part of the process and that they’d all struggled to figure out the right balance for that.
I’d cross the bridge when I got to it.
“I know,” I said as I lifted our baby up into my arms. “I don’t ever want to be away from your mother either.”
But when we made our way back out to the living room, Gracie was out cold on the couch.