Epilogue
Tilly
Two Years Later
I down shift as we head down the mountain and away from the little spot on the lake we finished building late last year.
It’s a traditional log cabin with wood sourced right on site.
Tucker built it himself and a few others in the area that he’s since sold.
Lately, he’s been building houses instead of robbing banks or hiding people, and though I don’t think it’s nearly as exciting, he seems like he’s enjoying himself.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He lands his hand on my expanded stomach as I flick on the blinker and turn left toward the fall festival in Rugged Mountain. I love this time of the year.
The crisp air, the colors on the trees, the warm cozy comfort, the harvest. It’s been ingrained in me since childhood and somehow, I find something I love more about it every year, which is why Tucker and I had our wedding in the fall.
We were married on the little property we bought near the lake surrounded by yellow aspen trees and dark red maples.
It was a small ceremony with only a few close family and friends. A quaint little wedding, a simple white dress, and a backyard barbeque with cake made by me. Tucker said that day was the best day of his life, though I think that might change when our baby boy is born, which is any day now.
We’re nine months along as of yesterday, and the doctor says I could pop any second.
I’m not sure what that means, but it’s terrifying to think about.
I’ve watched the videos, I’ve done the breathing exercises, and I’ve read a million books about birthing a baby, but the whole idea still terrifies me.
Fall Fest is the distraction I need right now.
I tuck the truck up against the curb outside the festival and turn the key before handing it towards Tucker with a smile. “Thank you for letting me drive, Daddy.”
He shakes his head and wrestles back a grin like the tough guy he is. “You did what I asked you too last night, so you get prizes today.”
I laugh. “Letting you drink from my tits, that earns me a prize?”
“Yeah, apparently, it does.” He leans onto my lips and kisses me gently as his hand brushes down over my swollen breasts. “Just hearing you talk like that already makes me want more.”
“Here, on the side of the road?” I shake my head. “There are people everywhere.”
“And not one of them can see through those truck windows.”
My thighs squeeze together as he stares toward me with those dark eyes that get me every single time.
“Fine,” I groan playfully before tugging up my sweater, exposing the hot pink bra that’s two cup sizes larger than I usually wear. “Just a quick sip.”
He pushes his big hand back through his hair and leans in with a cheshire grin. “Nothing is going to be quick about this.”
My clit throbs and my panties dampen as he leans in close, brushing is tongue over my nipple.
“That’s my girl, dripping those sweet juices for Daddy.”
Oh God, I love when he gets like this.
Feral.
Needy.
Hungry.
Starved.
Within seconds, he’s latched onto my tit and he’s drinking, milk dripping from his chin as his rough hand slips up the inside of my thigh toward my panties.
We started this a few weeks ago when my nipples suddenly began leaking in the grocery store.
He didn’t drink me up in one of the aisles, but he only waited until we were in the truck that first time.
I didn’t think I’d start lactating until after our baby boy was born.
Turns out, that’s a myth, and a lot of women start leaking in their last trimester.
“Jesus,” he growls, licking my milk up as he feathers his rough fingers through the cotton of my panties. “I love tasting you.”
I hum under my breath and close my eyes as he touches me softly and drinks me up.
At first, I thought the whole thing was weird, but it didn’t take long for me to relax into it.
The soft touches, the gentle way he sucks, the way his body leans against mine, and the way he wants it. The way he wants me.
I sigh as he presses his palm against my sopping panties and growls low against my ear, the nutty scent of my milk on his breath. “Come on, princess. Let’s go get you all your apple treats.”
“What?” I groan. “No way. You’ve started something. You have to finish it.”
“And I will, tonight… when I have complete control over you. Right now, I want you on my arm walking around that festival with soaking wet panties, and my dick on your mind.”
This is quite possibly one of the very top reasons I love this man.
I don’t know what it’s called, or if it’s a quality at all, but I love the way he loves me.
The way he stays playful and hungry. The way he holds me like he doesn’t ever want to let me go.
The way he looks at me. The way I feel when he looks at me.
“Okay,” I grin, landing a kiss on his lips, “but I’m driving home, and we’re getting double the donuts.”
“Whatever you say, princess.” He kisses the top of my head gently. “Stay right there. I’m coming around to get you.” He hops down out of the old truck he spends at least two nights a week working on, and makes his way around, helping me down out of the seat.
I’d love to say I don’t need it, but these days, I tip over with a strong breeze. Plus, I love the way his big, rough hand slides over mine, warm and cozy.
This year, Fall Fest looks bigger than it has in the past. There are two bandstands, a round of fiddlers already going at it, double the food carts, and new this year, near the arts and crafts section, is a pumpkin carving contest, which I’m not sure why I’m not a part of.
“We need to do that next time. We can bring Percy and do that thing where people put their babies into pumpkins.”
“I know that name is after Grandpa,” he groans, “but I don’t know… maybe we should name him something more modern so kids aren’t such assholes.”
“Percy isn’t a bad name! How can kids make fun of Percy?”
“Don’t know,” he shrugs, “but I figure they’ll find a way.”
“No chance.” I shake my head and rub my hand down over my stomach. “I’ve heard so much about Grandpa. This little guy is lucky to be named after the man that raised his father. Plus, Percy is a great name. Kids these days will think it’s after some character in a book or something.”
“Gramps was a good guy, but I’m pretty sure the only part of my life he’d have been proud of is this right here.”
“We’ve all got ghosts, Tucker. You, me, every person out here. We’ve all done something we’re not proud of. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up.”
He huffs under his breath. “I want to, but I keep thinking about how Percy is going to ask questions someday, and I’ve got to tell him who is father was. I’m not proud of that shit, ya know?”
“You tell him that his father is a man who made mistakes and learned from them. That’s all life is.” I land my hand on the side of his face, my fingers weaving through his beard. “You’re a good man, Tucker. I see that every single day.”
He leans down and kisses my lips gently, the scent of cedar in the air. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Tell me that again when I’m in active labor, cursing you out for not being able to carry this baby yourself, okay?”
He laughs and kisses me again. “Okay, princess. Where should we eat first? Donuts, popcorn, candy apples, a slice of pizza—”
“Hey, guys.” Mira lands her hand on my back and leans into me for a hug. It’s so helpful to have a good sister-in-law. She’s helped me so much through this whole pregnancy. “It’s almost like Fall Fest is the only thing going on for miles or something.”
I laugh. “We should probably start planning to meet up here.”
Jack shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not a huge fan of the fact that I’m married to Tucker, I don’t think he ever will be, but he respects my decision and I know he wants to be a part of Percy’s life, so he does his best to tolerate my relationship.
“How’s things going over at the youth camp?”
“Pretty good,” he says with a nod. “We’ve got a full house this time of year. Kids coming in from Los Angeles next week. Never seen the woods before.”
For a while, Tucker didn’t like hearing about the youth camp.
Now, he drops off wood for campfires and keeps the store stocked with homemade muffins from the bakery.
I’d love to be the one making them, but I’m far too busy at the hospital to get much baking in, and I’m done passing other people’s baked goods off as my own. The risk is far too high.
That said, I might do a little baking after the baby is born. I’m planning to take a year off to stay home and do all things domestic.
Mira rubs her hand over my stomach. “You know, we’ve got a little surprise coming too.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“We’re due in the spring.” She smiles so full and bright that I swear she’s shining. “It’s a total shock. You know we didn’t think we could have kids.”
“Oh my God!” A tear rolls onto my cheek. “The kids are going to be so close! That’s amazing!” I lean in and hug her, permanent warmth in my heart as we all stand together at the little Fall Fest I grew up loving.
People plan their lives around the big stuff. Weddings, vacations, houses, jobs, but I say it’s the moments right here that matter most.
The crisp fall air, my hand sunk into Tucker’s, and the future on the horizon. A future that includes apple cider donuts, the love of family and friends, and quite possibly a few more punishments from my big, handsome, dominant husband who hasn’t yet realized it’s actually me who’s in charge.
THANK YOU FOR READING.