Epilogue
ELENA
The sun is melting into the ocean, smearing pink and gold across the sky like the world is showing off. The breeze is warm, carrying the scent of saltwater and champagne. The string lights are flickering on as the wedding party spills onto the sand.
And everywhere I look…
Women are staring at Colt.
Harper—shockingly but not—is the worst offender.
“ELENA,” she hisses, grabbing my arm. “I am BEGGING you—please let me touch his abs. Just once. I’m on my knees.”
“Absolutely not,” I mutter, which only makes her laugh harder.
Our other friend Natalie appears beside us, drink in hand, her maxi dress fluttering like she’s in her own perfume commercial. She’s always had that effortlessly-sexy boho vibe. She leans in conspiratorially.
“I’m getting a massage later,” she announces to no one in particular. “A very intimate massage. If you know what I mean.”
I choke on my champagne.
Harper claps.
“Natalie! We’re at a wedding!”
Natalie shrugs. “I’m single, I’m 41, and I’m on vacation. If a woman can’t get railed by a pair of magic hands in Cabo, where can she do it? Besides, I’m kidding. It’s not that kind of massage.”
Harper snaps her fingers at me. “Elena, write this down. NAT is getting a second wind after her divorce. I have a feeling it will be epic. Someone should write about her. And about you,” she says, turning to me.
I laugh, cheeks flushed and heart light.
Then I feel that instinct that pulls my gaze straight to Colt.
Standing a few yards away, talking to the groom, his damp hair pushed back, his linen shirt half-open, his tan skin glowing like a one-man brochure for “Destination Wedding Eye Candy.”
The bridesmaids keep glancing at him, whispering.
One even fans herself.
Natalie whistles under her breath. “That man is illegally hot. Elena, you should be in prison.”
Harper nods vigorously. “Jail. Immediately.”
And then Colt looks at me.
Not at them.
Not at the bridesmaids, and not at anyone else.
Just me.
Like he zeroes in on my heartbeat first.
He excuses himself and walks over, slow and steady, like he knows he’s being watched and doesn’t give a single damn.
“Hey,” he murmurs, slipping an arm around my waist.
“Hey,” I breathe.
Harper claps her hands. “Okay, I’m sorry, but Elena, please—just one poke? I swear I’ll Venmo you fifty dollars.”
Colt smirks. “What’s going on here?”
Natalie takes a sip of her drink. “They want to touch your abs.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I mean… I’ve been working hard. I could flex.”
“No,” I say, swatting him. “Absolutely not. These abs are private property.”
Harper groans. Natalie sighs. Colt laughs and presses a kiss to my temple.
You’d think that would be enough, but it’s not.
Before I can react, he turns my chin toward him and kisses me.
And when he does, it’s not a polite “we’re in public” kiss.
A deep, warm, wet kiss that makes my toes curl in the sand and my grip tighten around his shirt.
People cheer, and someone wolf whistles. Harper screams, “GET IT, MAMA!” Natalie fans herself dramatically.
When Colt finally pulls back, he’s a little breathless, his forehead resting against mine.
His eyes are soft.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
“I’m great,” I whisper.
He brushes a piece of hair off my face, thumb grazing my cheek.
“Come walk with me?”
“Go,” Harper says, practically shoving me toward him. “We’ll keep the bridesmaids away from your man.”
Colt snorts. “I can handle myself.”
“THEY CAN’T,” Harper snaps. “Go.”
We slip away from the party, walking down the shoreline as waves lap at our feet. The sun dips lower, streaking the sky with purple.
After a while, Colt stops and turns to face me.
“Elena,” he says, voice low, “thank you for bringing me here.”
“You brought yourself,” I say softly.
He smiles, slow and warm. “Because I wanted to be here. With you. Not as a secret. Not as something casual. Just… yours.”
My heart clenches.
“And I’m yours,” I whisper. I feel corny. But it’s true.
He exhales like he’s been holding that breath for a long time.
He pulls me closer, hands warm at my waist, lips brushing mine as gently as the tide.
“This stopped being casual for me a long time ago,” he murmurs. “Honestly? It never was.”
I cup his jaw, leaning into him, letting the ocean and the sunset and the whole damn sky blur behind him.
“I know,” I whisper. “Me too.”
He kisses me as the waves roll in, soft and deep and certain.
Behind us, we hear Harper shouting something incoherent and Natalie complaining that “no one has ever kissed her like that, not even her massage guy.”
Colt chuckles against my mouth.
But when he pulls back…his forehead rests against mine.
And the world feels simple, like it’s the beginning of something new.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like the past is way, way behind me, and I have a fresh start I’m excited about.
We head upstairs from the pool, water still dripping down our legs, both of us flushed from the heat, the sunset, and the ridiculous amount of staring we endured.
The vibrant colors of the sky mirror the excitement coursing through me, and as we reach our room, the moment the door clicks shut behind us, Colt’s entire demeanor shifts.
His voice drops, low and commanding. “Get on the bed.”
My breath catches at the authority in his tone, an electric thrill shooting through me. “On your hands and knees.”
Heat floods my cheeks, igniting a fire low in my stomach. My heart pounds, and I can’t pretend to fight him. Not now. I climb onto the mattress, feeling bold, desired, and alive in a way I thought was long gone.
He comes up behind me, his palms sliding over my hips—slow, sure, teasing. I shiver at his touch, anticipation swirling within me as I feel him press closer. “You ready for this?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I can’t help but crave him, the way he makes me feel—every nerve ending live with need.
With a swift motion, he grips my hips, positioning me just how he wants. The first thrust is powerful, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through me. I gasp, the sensation overwhelming, and I can hear Colt’s low growl as he drives deeper, claiming me completely.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he commands, and I do, locking my gaze with his as he begins to move, his rhythm steady and relentless. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me, building the tension in my core.
“Colt,” I moan, the sound escaping my lips like a prayer, and I can see the satisfaction in his eyes, knowing he’s the one making me feel this way.
“Tell me how good it feels,” he urges, his voice thick with desire.
“It feels incredible,” I gasp, feeling myself teetering on the edge. “I love you!”
His thrusts don’t falter. “I love you too,” he replies, the words tumbling from his lips like a promise. The intensity between us grows, and I can feel the heat building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter until I can’t hold back any longer.
With a cry, I come undone, pleasure crashing over me in waves as I scream his name. Colt follows right after, his own release spilling into me, our bodies entwined in a perfect rhythm. I can feel the world melting away, leaving just the two of us, lost in this moment of pure bliss.
I’m laughing into the pillow, breathless, collapsed in a tangle of sheets and Colt’s body weight half draped over me. The satisfaction of what just happened still lingers in the air, and I can’t help but smile.
Colt kisses my shoulder, still panting. “You okay, baby?”
“Okay?” I wheeze, still catching my breath. “I think I saw God. And we just said our ‘I love you’s’ for the first time. What?”
He grins, smug and glowing. “Yeah? I did pretty good?”
“You did…phenomenally.”
We start to untangle from each other, the warmth between us still electric. But then out of nowhere, a wave of nausea hits me.
I sit up so quickly that Colt nearly falls off the bed. “Whoa. Elena, you okay?”
“I have to puke,” I gasp, the urgent feeling churning in my stomach.
He freezes, concern flooding his features. “The sex was that bad, huh?”
I half laugh, half dry heave. “It’s not that! I just—oh God—”
I run to the bathroom, Colt close behind, rubbing my back while I hang over the sink, trying to steady myself. When I finally straighten, I’m pale and shaky.
He frowns, searching my face. “Maybe you’re dehydrated? Or hungover?”
“I had one margarita,” I mutter, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over me. “This feels…different.”
“Different how?” he presses, his brow furrowing.
I hold my stomach, feeling the unease settle in. “I’m tired. And dizzy. And my boobs hurt.”
Colt bleeds concern, his eyes widening. “Elena.”
“What?” I snap, the urgency in his tone grating on my nerves.
He raises both eyebrows, taking my hands gently. “When was your last—”
I gasp, realization hitting me like a freight train. “Oh my God.”
His mouth opens, and he goes still, the weight of understanding passing between us.
“Yeah,” I whisper, my heart racing. “Oh. My. God. No. It’s impossible.”
We’re out the door in two minutes—me in an oversized shirt and flip-flops, him in swim trunks and panic. The nearest pharmacy is five blocks away, in the humidity, at night, in Mexico.
Colt tries to ask the cashier for a pregnancy test in Spanish. It…does not go well. He says something that apparently means “test the baby now.” She looks horrified.
We pull out Google Translate like lunatics. Finally, she hands us a box.
Colt yells, “GRACIAS!” like he’s at a football game, and I can’t help but laugh despite the nerves.
Then we sprint back to the hotel like fugitives, laughter mingling with our adrenaline.
Back in the room, my hands shake as I take the test, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. Colt sits on the edge of the tub, elbows on his knees, staring at me like it’s the two-minute warning in the fourth quarter.
We wait—the longest two minutes of my life.
Then…the line appears.
Clearly positive.
I cover my mouth in shock.
Colt stands so fast he nearly knocks over a towel rack. “Elena. Is this happening?”
I look up at him, tears filling my eyes. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper, the weight of the revelation settling in.
He exhales like he’s been holding every breath he’s ever taken. Then he laughs. It’s a shaky, joyful, disbelieving sound, as he pulls me into his arms so tightly that I melt into his chest.
“You’re pregnant,” he murmurs again, his voice breaking with emotion.
“With my baby,” I whisper back, my heart swelling at the thought. “I thought…I thought it was impossible.”
“Fuck yes! Incredible. I had a feeling…”
“Had a feeling that what?”
“That it was never you who couldn’t get pregnant. And that this was supposed to happen.”
“What was?”
“You were supposed to get pregnant…by me.”
I laugh through tears, overwhelmed with joy. “You’re really happy?”
He cups my face, his expression soft yet intense. “Elena,” he says softly, firmly, like a vow, “How many ways do I have to say it? I always knew it was meant to be me and you.”
“I know, I just never thought it could be like this.”
“This,” he murmurs, palm splayed possessively over my belly, “is our life now.”
His mouth drops to my ear.
“And it makes you untouchable. All mine.”
A smirk forms on his face.
“Really don’t believe me? Then I’m not just going to fuck you.” He spins me around and looks into my eyes, very carefully. “I’m going to claim you.”
I grin. “Just be careful.”
He grins back. “I think this means I’m going to be getting a promotion up from ‘boyfriend’ sooner than we thought, doesn’t it?”
I laugh as he wraps his arms around me, and kisses me.
THE END
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