52. Epilogue #2
I didn’t miss a beat. “Absolutely not. Henrik nearly broke her spine. I’m lucky she still lets me sleep in the same bed.”
“You’re both no fun,” Marcus protested. “Adrien feels my pain.”
Adrien looked over from where he sat. “I didn’t ask to feel your pain,” he said. “But yes. I, too, would like to be a godfather.”
Léa raised a brow. “Should I have more children just to appease all of you?”
“Yes,” Marcus said.
“No,” I snapped at the same time.
Aurora folded her arms. “I want a baby sister.”
“Absolutely not,” I repeated, smiling this time.
Julian, seated with one ankle over his knee, lifted his glass. “Marcus, you can always be an honorary grandparent. Buy stuffed animals. Babysit while they’re away.”
“Yeah Zane does that.” He scoffed, looking personally offended. “No thanks Okoye.”
Adrien and Elias both snickered.
Zane wasn’t there to defend himself, or he and Marcus probably would have turned the church gardens into an incident.
Glasgow had finally reclaimed Zane, for now. He’d called from the airport last week, grumbling about being roped into best man duties again because his brother, Ronan was marrying a rival’s ex-wife and “someone has to help keep the peace before it devolves into a gun fight.”
I suspected he loved it.
He’d texted a picture two days back, mid-argument: Ronan in a suit, middle finger up, bride laughing in the background. Underneath: Tell Aurora Uncle Zane is preparing so no one ever breaks her heart.
I’d replied with a photo of her scowling at her cereal.
She’ll break theirs, I wrote back.
He’d replied with a row of skulls and hearts.
Marcus cut his eyes toward Julian and said, “You should have stayed wherever you’ve been hiding. Paris doesn’t need your face back. Neither does London.”
“Always so petty.” Julian huffed a laugh.
Julian had been away from London and Paris for over two years now. I doubted he’d want to live in either city again if she didn’t.
“Are you planning on returning to London?” I asked, gesturing with my glass. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one in the room curious to know.
His jaw ticked. “It depends,” he said, glancing toward his wife, who was now laughing with Léa and the other women. “On where she wants to finally settle.”
Every man at the table went silent for a moment, then tore into him like wolves.
Marcus groaned. “You hear that? How the mighty have fallen.”
“Ah! Disgusting,” Adrien concurred.
Severin continued eating like he hadn’t heard a word that was said.
I wasn’t surprised. I’ve seen the way Julian is around her since they arrived. He didn’t stand a chance. It was easy to understand why he’d married her so quickly. Out of character for him. Entirely understandable nonetheless.
When the teasing finally eased, Henrik had stopped crying and started yawning instead.
The ladies sat together like they were at a convention—My Léa, Céleste, Isolde, Julian’s wife, Elias’s girlfriend, my mother, my mother-in-law, Madame Devereaux—laughing and making conversation while their voices overlapped.
I stood back for a second and looked at all of it.
My son. My daughter. My wife. My people. My entire world in one place. Six years ago, I wouldn't have believed this type of peace could be trusted. But living it now told a different story. It made me feel whole.
By the time the sun dipped fully and the last of the champagne had gone warm, the garden felt more peaceful and serene.
The children had already been claimed by the grandmothers, with Annette, Isabella, and Madame Devereaux trailing behind them, carrying cake and calling out instructions.
Aurora went willingly once she realised there were sweets waiting in the car.
A thorough sweet tooth like her mother. Henrik went because he was asleep and too small to object.
That left the rest of us scattered across the garden under the evening light.
Julian sat with his wife tucked sideways across his lap, one hand sliding over her thigh like he’d forgotten the rest of us were still there.
Elias’s girlfriend sat so close at his side their shoulders stayed pressed together, his fingers absently stroking her knuckles while he pretended to listen to whatever Adrien was saying.
Adrien looked between everyone coupled up and took a long drink.
“This is miserable for me,” he deadpanned. “Just so everyone knows. I’m sitting in the middle of domestic propaganda.”
“You’ll survive,” Léa said dryly from beside me.
Marcus snorted into his glass.
“Will I?” Adrien asked with mock reluctance. “Because from where I’m sitting, this feels like a very coordinated attack on my freedom.”
Julian ignored him completely and kissed his wife anyway, slow and shameless as though the complaint had only encouraged him.
His wife responding with the same intensity.
It was obvious she shared Julian’s taste for provocation.
Very interesting. The man hadn't found his opposite. He'd found an accomplice.
Adrien pointed at them. “See? Exactly that.”
Marcus pushed back in his chair, sunglasses still on despite the fact that night had already fallen. “That’s because you’ve stayed too long. There comes a point in every evening when the coupled start pretending the rest of us aren’t here.”
“The rest of you,” Elias clarified mildly, glancing at his girlfriend. “Some of us are doing very well.” They exchanged a knowing smile before he pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her blush deeply.
Marcus looked personally offended. “You’re particularly nauseating.”
Adrien sighed, “This is exactly how it happens. One of you falls in love and suddenly the trails start blazing, others follow, then total collapse.”
“Nothing collapsed,” Julian said lazily, his lips close to his wife’s. “We essentially progressed.”
Marcus scoffed. “That’s a generous word for what happened. Orion got emotional, Elias got house-trained, and you disappeared and came back married.”
“And you?” I asked.
He stood, smoothing down the front of his jacket. “I adapted.” He glanced at Adrien. “Some of us still believe in maintaining standards. Clear vices. It’s how civilization works.”
Adrien rose lowly, finishing his drink. “He means he’s about to go find a morally questionable location and make some poor decisions.”
Marcus lifted his glass in acknowledgment. “You make it sound like its a problem.”
Léa laughed into the curve of my shoulder. I slipped my hand higher on her thigh and she bit me to stifle a moan. I almost winced.
Marcus noticed, of course. “Right. That’s my cue. You two are about thirty seconds from making this deeply inappropriate.”
“Says the man leaving to do worse,” I said.
“Yes, but I have the decency not to do it in front of the christening flowers.” He nodded once toward me, then toward Léa. “Try not to wake the children while you’re at it. Or do—”
“Get out,” Julian didn’t let him finish.
Marcus smirked and headed for the steps. Adrien followed with a long-suffering sigh, still complaining about being chronically single and unfairly surrounded by smug people in stable relationships.
Julian stood next. His wife’s hand stayed tucked in his as he pulled her up beside him, possessively.
“Don’t stay up too late,” he said without an ounce of sincerity in his voice.
“You bastard,” I quipped.
He smiled without shame. “Happily.”
Elias was the last to leave. He helped his girlfriend to her feet, her fingers looped around his wrist.
“You good?” he asked me.
I looked at Léa, lying on my shoulder, then back at him. “Very.”
He nodded “Good night then.”
They were gone too.
The terrace was finally quiet, except for the fountain still running somewhere at the corner, in the dark.
Night lamps were lit all around us and the garden smelled of roses and spring time and expensive wine.
It felt different and more intimate now that the noise of everyone else had gone, and all that was left was her.
Léa adjusted her body beside me, stretching one leg over mine. The dress she wore had ridden slightly higher on her thigh, and my hand reached for her without thinking.
“Tired?” I asked.
She tilted her head, looking up at me through lowered lashes. “A little bit.”
I caressed the soft skin of her bare arms. “You don’t look tired.”
Her lips tilted. “No?”
“No.” My gaze swept over her lazily. “You look like a woman who’s been driving me insane since morning.”
A helpless laugh slipped out of her immediately. “At my son’s christening?”
“Our son,” I said with a territorial edge. My hand drifting higher, pulling her closer. “And yes.”
She bit her lip, and that small movement sent blood rushing down my spine.
Orion,” she whispered, already surrendering to my touch and it nearly ruined me.
I dipped my head, my mouth brushing the shell of her ear. “I watched you all day,” I rasped. “In that sexy dress, holding him. Holding Aurora’s hand. Looking the way you did in front of everyone and acting as if I was supposed to sit there watching you like a civilized man.”
Her breath hitched and I felt my pulse stutter in response.
I kissed the side of her neck once, then again, slower. Her fingers threaded into my hair, pulling softly at first, then harder when I found the spot at the corner under her earlobe that made her shiver.
“You are a civilized man,” she said, a little breathless.
“I’m never civilized with you.”
My palm pressed harder into her thigh. She rolled her hips into me, and the friction nearly made me let out a curse.
“Years later,” I kissed the side of her neck, “and you still look at me that way.”
“What way?”
“It’s the look you give me when you know you have me exactly where you want me."
She turned into me, her lips ghosting over mine. “You know I do.”
I groaned and took her mouth, slowly, because I liked the way anticipation made her pliant, before she breaks for me. Her hand eased from my hair to my jaw, holding me there as my other hand moved from her thigh to her waist and pulled her fully across my lap.
She tasted vaguely of champagne and sugar—so fucking sweet. It was a simple but intoxicating mix. I was greedy for more.