Epilogue
Theo
I finally arrive at the penthouse after a long day at the office though I fought like hell to cut it short because of what day it is. Our anniversary. A year ago today, I made the second-best decision of my life marrying Holland. The first one was falling in love with her.
The once cold, unwelcoming place is warm and inviting. It’s no longer where I return to simply to sleep.
The scent of the cashmere and vanilla candle I bought while out with Holland a weekend ago sweetens the air.
The bouquet of flowers I’m carrying with me are all her favorites. Music, soft and romantic drifts through the room.
I don’t see Holland anywhere. Which means she might be at her easel. After our honeymoon, I’d found the best doctors and surgeons to treat her injured hand and give her back the ability to create art.
I peel off my jacket and toss it onto the back of the sofa before heading into the dining room. And damn. I nearly drop the flowers.
She’s in a short, tight dress that fits her curves so well it looks like she painted it on her body. Her hair is down and falling over her shoulders. Then her lips curve into a smile and I am undone.
I live to see her smile. To delight her.
She gestures toward the table.
It’s filled with white and red rose petals spread around dozens of candles. A bottle of champagne chilling on ice waits near crystal glasses studded with priceless jewels on the base.
“You said you’d be here at five.”
“I also said give or take ten minutes.”
“Marrying me has caused you to talk smart.”
“No, marrying you has caused me to become even more obsessed.”
“By?”
“By everything about you.” I set the flowers on the table and let my gaze roam her sweet curves. “By how you walk. How you talk. By what you taste like.”
Color floods her face.
I bracket my hands around her body, pinning her against the table. “The obsession is fueled when I have you for breakfast like I did this morning.”
“Theo,” she scolds.
I nuzzle the side of her neck. “I stayed hard all day thinking of the way I shoved my plate aside and dragged you to the end of the table. My favorite part was drizzling you with syrup and then cleaning you off with my tongue.”
She clutches the front of my shirt. “Theo.”
Her voice is no longer scolding, but needy.
God, I can never get enough of this woman.
I step back and drink my fill of her. I’m thankful, so thankful we’re together. I nearly lost her because of my father, a man who’s no longer in our family. My grandmother steamrolled the divorce between my parents and forever blocked him from the family and our fortune.
When my grandfather found out what happened, he sent my father out of the country and made sure he can never return.
The memory of the day Holland walked out of the office, of how close I came to losing her because of my attempt to protect her from my father still comes to mind every now and then.
I’ve learned what’s valuable in life. Being with her. Our nights on the sofa reading a book or watching a show together. The weekends we laze around or take a drive without a destination in my mind.
Things that cost nothing mean so much to me.
“I don’t know how I got so damn lucky to have you in my life.” I press my lips against the skin at the base of her neck.
“You got lucky because I’m obsessed with your cock.” She pulls on my tie, bringing my head down for our lips to meet. “And the guy who comes with it isn’t so bad either.”
I laugh and kiss her and it’s familiar and easy. Sexy and comforting. This is my person, the reason I work even harder than before. I want to make sure her future is protected. That she can live like a queen for the rest of her life.
“Did you turn off your phone?” she asks.
I shake my head, but then at her expression, I go do that.
I still have a tendency to let work distract me even though I try not to. It’s not easy changing a habit that was all my life consisted of before her.
“Good boy,” she says. “No one gets to have you tonight except me.”
“You get to have me?”
“In ways that’ll wear you out so much you’ll hobble around once we’re done.”
“I like the idea of hobbling.”
“I thought you would.”
“But, before we do that, I have something for you.”
She sighs. “Theo, I don’t need another expensive gift. We’ve given each other a present already.”
“This one didn’t cost anything.” I open the safe where I’d stashed the box I made. I’ve been working on this for several days, adding to it whenever she isn’t around.
We sit on the sofa and she opens the box.
It’s pictures we took from our honeymoon. Us together at my grandmother’s house where I’d convinced her to ride a horse and she hated it. Pictures I secretly took of her while she was dancing yesterday. Us this morning as we got ready for the day.
“All of these memories,” she says, smiling but with tears shimmering in her eyes.
“It’s our yesterday, our today and the future,” I say.
“Future? I don’t get it.”
“Keep looking.” It’s my answer to something we’d talked about a few weeks ago, but we didn’t make any definitive plans.
She flips over another photo. It’s a baby’s nursery I’d made from images I’d printed out. Across it, I’d written the words coming soon.
“Theo,” she whispers.
“I don’t have a great role model when it comes being a father, you know that. I’ll probably get a few things wrong along the way. But I want to grow our family.”
Those are words I never imagined myself saying. I never wanted a marriage or a wife, much less kids. But I want it all with Holland.
“You’ll be fine,” she says. “We’ll be fine because we have each other to lean on.”
I stand and stretch, then take her hand and pull her to her feet. “I love you, Holland Montclair.”
“I love you, too,” she says.
My heart is content. The woman I love is in my arms. Life doesn’t get any sweeter or richer than that.