Epilogue
The snow had melted months ago, but the house still carried winter’s quiet.
The porch smelled like rain and pine, the air damp and fresh from the early spring storm that had swept through overnight.
Sandy leaned against the doorframe, watching Kringle try to find the perfect spot to pee on as the sun crawled up over the tree line.
Their puppy wasn’t much of a puppy anymore.
She was getting so big, but she still loved to wake them before the sun rose to go outside for her morning potty break.
Behind her, she heard the floorboards creak the way they always did when he walked down the hall in the morning.
Nick came up behind her, bare feet, flannel pants, hair sticking up in a way that made her heart catch a little every single time.
He didn’t say anything at first—just slipped an arm around her waist, pressing a sleepy kiss to the side of her neck.
“Morning,” he murmured against her skin.
She smiled. “You’re up early.” She was usually the early riser and the one who took Kringle out to do her business.
He made a low, tired sound in the back of his throat. “Didn’t want to miss the sunrise today.” The quiet stretched between them, comfortable and familiar now. Not the tense silence of two people holding their breath—but the stillness of home.
It had been three months since Christmas.
Three months since she was given the job to do a news article about the reluctant biker playing Santa at a local bar.
Three months since he had asked her to be his wife.
She still caught herself sometimes, standing in this same doorway, stunned by how much had changed without fanfare or fireworks.
No big, cinematic moment. Just two people who stopped running long enough to let something take root.
Nick rested his chin on her shoulder, his body warm against her back. “You’re quiet.”
“Just thinking,” she said softly.
“Well, that’s dangerous,” he teased. “The last time you thought about anything, we ended up down at the Justice of the Peace to get hitched.
She elbowed him gently, and he huffed out a quiet laugh, kissing the top of her shoulder this time.
Sandy loved their little wedding—just the two of them and Mace and Brandi as their witnesses. It was perfect.
The truth was, she liked this version of him—the one who had let some of the edges soften without losing his strength.
The one who fixed the crooked fence in the backyard because he wanted to give Kringle a safe space to run and play.
The one who sat through her favorite Christmas movie in February just because it made her smile.
He’d become part of the rhythm here. The way the house felt lived because of him just being there with her.
The way the kitchen smelled like coffee every morning was because he insisted on making it since hers was always too strong.
The way laughter had crept back into her soul, like it had always belonged there.
She turned to face him, sliding her hands up the front of his shirt. “We made it through a whole winter without killing each other.”
He smirked, “Guess that’s a good sign.”
“Guess it is.” He leaned down, and she met him halfway. The kiss was slow and familiar, the kind that didn’t try to set the world on fire—because it didn’t need to. The world was already warm enough here.
When they broke apart, Nick brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You ever think about the next step?”
Sandy’s heart stuttered—not in panic, but in recognition.
She’d thought about it. A lot. About what it meant to build something instead of just holding on to it.
The idea of having kids and a puppy running around the house both terrified her and made her giddy all at the same time.
She met his gaze. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”
“So, a baby then,” he breathed. She smiled at him and nodded her agreement.
Nothing about their relationship had been traditional.
Everyone thought that they were rushing things, getting married after knowing each other for only a little over a month, but they didn’t care.
She and Nick had found their own rhythm, and it didn’t have to go along with what everyone else thought that they should be doing or how they should be living their lives.
That decision was theirs alone, and right now, all she could think about was seeing Nick holding their baby.
“A baby,” she agreed.
He nodded, quietly, and then laced their fingers together.
No grand gestures. No big declarations. Just a steady, quiet kind of promise in the way he held her hand.
The sun finally cleared the tree line, turning the wet grass to gold.
Birds started singing on the eaves of the porch.
And Sandy realized that she didn’t miss the ache that used to live in her chest. It had been replaced with something warm, solid, and real.
She leaned against him, letting the world settle around them.
Whatever came next didn’t scare her anymore.
Because this time, she wasn’t facing it alone.
The End
I hope you loved Nick and Sandy’s story! Now, buckle up and get ready for another Road Reaper! Cyclops (Road Reapers MC Book 6) is coming in March 2026 from K.L. Ramsey!