Epilogue
Devyn
S top wriggling so much!” I swat Hunter, who’s twisting around on the barn bench, arms bound to his sides by bright blue rope that I put there personally. I smile ear to ear and offer him a curtsey, pleased with my work.
“The student has surpassed the teacher,” I tease, skipping joyfully to the rack and plucking a riding crop from the very center.
“Don’t you even think about it, babygirl.” He groans, but I notice the lilt in his voice. It says do fucking think about it, babygirl , so I raise a brow at him.
“Sunflowers?”
He shakes his head, sputtering a laugh before angling to face me, seriously, smolderingly, so fucking hotly… is hotly a word ? He’s doing it. He’s doing hotly regardless of its vernacular validity, and fuck if I’m not frothing at the mouth for it. Does his lip lick thing only do it for me? Or are all the women who watch these thirst traps turned on by my man’s lip licking?
A selfish, jealous, animal part of me wants to round them all up and let the pigs live off their carcasses, because he’s mine .
But I’m not like that anymore. Living a bitch-free life is amazing, by the way.
I still can’t tell if it’s more that I’m living bitch-free, or if I’m just around people who tolerate the real me. The latter is more than likely. But if that’s the case, then damn, I’m one lucky cowgirl.
“I’m not saying fucking sunflowers , and you’re not leaving me tied up, you little tease. You and I know very well people will start showing within the hour.” He rakes his eyes over my body slowly. “Unless you want ‘em to watch.”
I swear, he knows what this does. Every inch of skin he sets his gaze upon flares to life with electricity that I’m quite positive he saves up and magically zaps to my core when he winks.
But I eye the door to see our trusty lock is in place, and I’m on him. My lips are crashing against his, my teeth snagging over skin, my tongue tasting anything I can until he’s sensing what I want and taking over, making my mouth personal grounds for his tongue to do whatever the hell he pleases. He dances inside me, and with his lips and tongue alone he makes me clench my thighs, rocking my clit against his belt buckle and the gathering of blue rope that comes together in a loop at his core.
“Untie me,” he rasps, bucking his hips up as I grind down, giving me the friction I need to build up my pleasure as I ride him.
“Or what?” I ask, licking my own lips this time, pleased that I taste him there. I bend down to taste more. My tongue trails over his collarbone, sliding between the ropes to the salt lingering on his skin, the sandalwood of his aftershave wafting through my senses and making my toes curl in my boots.
Thank the Lord for skirts, because they’re convenient for moments like this, when I unclasp his belt buckle and slide his jeans off his thick, heavy… God, I want you on top of me …
“Stop lookin’ at me like you need a meal and cut the ropes so I can fuck you right.”
“Okay,” I surrender breathlessly, scrambling off him and snatching up the safety scissors we keep close by during these rope play sessions of ours. They’ve become a ritual of sorts that I don’t hate one tiny bit. But I admit I prefer to be the one under his prowess. That’s the real reason I cut him loose.
The nylon ropes come billowing down his body and land on the floor without a sound, at least not one louder than my beating heart, and in an instant, I’m thrown to my back, his hard, thick body on top of mine.
“Hunterrr, fuuuck,” I moan.
“Filthy little wife has a filthy little mouth, does she?” he purrs, his eyes smirking to match his mouth. He knows how to make me insatiable. Always has. But over the years, he’s also learned a trick or two, like the way he swipes the flat of his tongue across my neck, licking and sucking slow circles lower and lower down my chest.
I go limp for him, his kisses becoming liquid gold over my skin, wrapping me in a veil of pleasure, his hands tweaking my nipples, giving me spurts of pain and pleasure as he slides my panties to the side and lays a hot, wet, kiss by my ear.
“Can I fuck you, babygirl?”
“Yes!” I cry, bucking my hips and urging his entry, moaning and shouting his name and screaming my love as he enters me again and again, my body molding to his, my clit pulsing with electricity, and my mind reeling with desire, with hope, with love.
I cry out as my body pulses, climaxing with the pleasure. He continues to pump into me, his hardness teasing my insides until I’m moaning uncontrollably, my lips snagging across his shoulder and biting down as I come around his cock.
“Look how good you take me,” he coos, slowing his thrusts and massaging my throbbing G spot as he does. “Pretty little wife came all over me, but we have a problem, don’t we, babygirl?” He thrusts deeper, dragging another moan from my lips. “Because you don’t like my messes, do you?”
I gasp, looking up from under sweaty bangs, and I watch his eyes darkening as he pulls his cock from my pussy, lowers me to my knees, which traitorously comply, and releases his hot, sticky seed across my lips.
My pussy hums, my body sizzling as if it could reignite just from the act alone, and it’s simply not fair for him to hold that kind of power over me, so I do one better. I stand naked before the only man I’ve ever loved, and I lick his seed from my lips. I lean in, cupping his balls in my hand, and lower my head, taking his entire length into my mouth, coating him with his own cum and sucking him down, until he’s hard all over again.
“I think I cleaned it up just fine, don’t you, Daddy?”
He gapes, reaching out to tickle me to submission, most likely, but we’re out of time when the barn door sounds with three tiny but firm knocks.
“Ya’ll better stop yer kissin’ and pissin’! The whole town is on their way, and that scary preppy-clothes lady is in our livin’ room drinkin’ tea without sugar.” Ellie pounds the door three more times before we hear her boots scuff through the dirt as she skips away.
Hunter and I share a look and then burst into a fit of laughter, still tangled in each other’s arms and legs, and I know nothing in my life has been wrong.
Even when it wasn’t easy to see.
This is where I’m meant to be. Forever and always.
But we do have to get this show on the road. And we have a surprise for Ellie.
We leave the barn and watch as she skips ahead of us to the amphitheater and events arena Hunter and I unveiled the plans for at the fair in November. She’s grown so much since then, and it’s only been a month. But she’s still the awkward kid in overalls, holding nails while her papa builds things like this beautiful community-use structure from the ground up.
Right from the vision in my head.
We go together like that. My vision. His passion. And Ellie, the glue to keep things sticking right where they should.
Besides, we need each other. Can you imagine me swinging a hammer? Thank you, no.
I’ll fill the space with talented young people who need a place to shine, though. That’s more my area of expertise any day.
I’m proud of Ellie for tonight. She’s the unofficial hostess of the First Annual Rodeo Talent Show, a non-profit we hope will raise money for teenage mothers of Pine Forest, a new program we came up with together in honor of my story and her own. Together, we decided no teenage mother should ever think drugs, gangs, or hiding your pregnancy from your family are the only ways to turn. Now they’ll have another option, a chance for hope, and what they do with that is entirely up to them.
S oon, the crowd is fully seated, and I can’t help but swoon over my husband and marvel at his and Dustin’s hard work as the hand-crafted stage with beautifully stained rafters of red oak are unveiled for the whole town to see.
A collective awe is heard from the field, and it makes every bit of planning and effort worth it. I see why Hunter has made enhancing this town his life’s work.
I look over at Claudette, Molly, and yes, even James, who is chowing down on the corndogs we’re peddling up and down the aisles, and I shake my head. There was a time not too long ago, in their very office, at that first interview, when I heard Hunter say something about his “life’s work” and I mocked him for it.
Sure, back then I didn’t have the full scope of things, but still. I was dismissive of his ‘life’s work’ because I didn’t get it. I couldn’t see what was right in front of my face; you can’t wish for more and never seek it out. And sometimes, even when you seek it out, you don’t find it.
That’s when you have to create it.
That’s what Hunter has done here. What we’ve done with this amphitheater on a smaller scale. He’s turned this town into the place he wanted it to be when we were kids. He’s turned our upside downs into right side ups. And even though we officially told Claudette we were pulling out of the collaboration with Classy Country and setting out to start our own non-profit ventures, they’ve still sworn to attend every event we throw and gave us their full support.
Claudette may have been devastated she didn’t get to plan the wedding of the century, but she’ll get over it. Hunter and I aren’t those kinds of people. We don’t need the fuss; Lord knows we’ve had enough.
Besides, everyone I’d want to invite on a day like that is already right here, surrounding me in my own back yard.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” a very high-pitched, ‘tween voice shouts through the mic. Remind me to teach her to use a microphone properly . “You have all lucked out, because you are in for a magnificent night of talented cowgirls and…less talented cowboys!”
The crowd hoots with laughter, swatting their jeans at her sass, and I can’t ignore I’m one of them. My smile is spread so tight across my face when I watch her on that stage, I think it could split open if I move another inch.
“First off,” she continues, “when Devyn Lynn Isaac— that’s right ladies, Isaac , so don’t be sending my papa any more of them lacy underthings in the mail, now. It’s getting old.” Another round of laughter sounds from the crowd as Ellie twirls and curtseys how I showed her before clearing her throat dramatically into the mic.
“When she told me she was doin’ a talent show, I was worried about how much talent this town actually had, and I’m sorry to say, we didn’t find any, but we did the best we could, so…enjoy this show instead!” She swats her leg as the crowd laughs on.
“All right, I’m kiddin’, ya’ll. Now, I know what yer thinkin’. ‘But, Ellie, why aren’t you dressed to compete if it’s about being the most talented?’” She smiles, tilting her head sarcastically back and forth as we laugh. Kid’s a natural.
“And the answer is…You have to be dumber than a doornail if you think I’d be caught dead wearin’ a stupid dress and dancin’ round a stage like a princess. No offense, Dev.”
I smile and shake my head at her.
She jumps down off the apron of the stage and lands like a cat, on both feet, and the crowd falls silent as she raises the mic back to her mouth and looks up at the camera, her face displayed largely on the projector screen behind her so all can see on the live stream when she says, “But I’m sure as shit gonna shoot the gun that starts the competition, y’all! Now let me hear you holler !”
The crowd goes wild, applause, full-on standing ovation and clapping for none other than our Ellie girl.
Our girl.
And I couldn’t be prouder. That’s why this is the moment I share a quick look with Hunter, and we rush from the wings to the apron and jump down to meet her in the pit.
“Ellie,” Hunter says, taking her free hand and holding mine in his other. The cameras filming, as our whole town, our family , watches.
“Devyn and I want to tell you something. As of today, you are officially ours, sweetheart.”
She arches her neck, her eyes wide and sparkling, a question on her lips.
So, I answer it, “It’s for real, Chuck. Forever and always.”
“I knew it!” she gasps, throwing her arms around me and then Hunter.
“Who knew you could keep so many secrets at once?” she asks him.
“Secrets?” I query. “As in plural?” But when I turn to Hunter, he’s down on one knee. Ellie smiles brightly, her cheeks turning red, her eyes wild, as she jumps up and down clapping her hands excitedly.
“What’s this? We’re already married.”
“Oh, let him do it, Dev!” Ellie cuts in. “It’s so romantic.”
I shoot a glance at the crowd and roll my eyes, sending them erupting in laughter.
“But I already have a ring, remember? And I like my Starburst one just fine.”
“Okay, then.” He shrugs. “I’ll take back the handcrafted rose quartz gemstone inlaid in a platinum band of diamonds.”
“Oh, my God! No, you won’t!” I shout, grabbing for the cute pink box with the perfectly dainty bow and opening it to reveal just what he said it would. My eyes reflect in the sparkles of the jewels, almost as beautiful as the family who chose it for me.
“It’s everything.”
Hunter shakes his head.
“No, it’s not. I’m looking at everything right now, and it looks a lot like my two girls in my arms, surrounded by the people we love.”
And he’s right. That is everything.
The talent show, the friends, and the family.
It’s perfectly imperfect.
And after the crowd disperses, and it’s just our close friends, we all settle by the bonfire and laugh about the parts of the night that made us feel something, whether it be big or small, happy or sad. We laugh and cry together, as a family should.
I stare at the fire for an unknown time, until my eyes start to see shapes of orange and red when I blink, and I know it’s time to rise from Hunter’s lap and take myself to bed.
Ellie’s long since put herself to bed, Brooklyn’s nestled in a sleeping bag on her bedroom floor, and Jonathan is decidedly in his own bed at his own house despite his and Ellie’s protests that he should sleep on the couch so he could hang with her and Brooklyn longer. I shake my head. Those two are just like us when we were kids. Better to keep a firm eye on that. But as I’m stretching and preparing to say my goodnights, Dustin eyes me wearily, and I notice him picking at the wrapper on his beer bottle. A nervous tic of his from our teen years.
“Shana and I have something to say,” he says suddenly.
Shana and I?
I slide my eyes to my best friend and tilt my head. She was there the day I went for the marriage license. She averts my gaze and turns to Dustin, and it doesn’t escape my notice when she places her hand over his. And squeezes.
“Oh, my gosh, you’re dating?”
“Not exactly,” Shana says.
“We’re pregnant.”