Epilogue
Chloe
The late autumn sun filters through the trees as I sit on the wraparound porch with a mug of herbal tea, watching Grant chop wood in the yard.
His flannel shirt stretches tight across his broad shoulders with every powerful swing of the axe.
Sweat glistens on his forehead, and the sight of him, so strong, steady, and completely mine, still makes my heart skip and my body warm in ways that haven’t faded even a little.
Grant is still the sheriff of Silver Lake.
The town relies on him, and he takes that responsibility seriously.
Late-night calls, weekend emergencies, and the occasional rowdy tourist still pull him away sometimes.
But it never gets in the way of our happiness.
No matter how long a shift runs or how chaotic things get, he always comes home to me first. He puts me first, every single time.
If I need him, he is there. No questions. No hesitation.
I had big plans for the fall. The elementary school offered me a full-time teaching position, and I was genuinely excited about going back to the classroom.
But then I found out I was pregnant. The moment that little pink plus sign appeared, everything shifted.
Grant has been so protective, so sweetly insistent that he doesn’t want me dealing with the stress of a brand-new job, lesson plans, and long days on my feet while growing our baby.
I agreed without much argument. For now, I am happily running story time at the library three mornings a week and spending the rest of my time nesting, turning the spare room into a nursery, reading baby books, and letting Grant spoil me rotten.
Life here is everything I never knew I needed.
Grant sets the axe down and catches me staring. A slow, knowing grin spreads across his face as he wipes the sweat from his brow and walks toward the porch, his boots heavy on the wooden steps.
“See something you like, Mrs. Sullivan?” he asks, voice low and teasing.
“Always,” I reply, biting my lip as he reaches me.
He doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me up from the rocking chair and kisses me deeply, one big hand sliding down to rest possessively over the rounded swell of my belly.
“How’s my baby doing?” he murmurs against my lips, thumb stroking slow circles.
“Active,” I laugh softly. “Kept kicking me all morning. Definitely takes after his daddy, strong and stubborn.”
Grant’s eyes darken with that familiar mix of pride and raw hunger. He drops to his knees right there on the porch, lifts the hem of my sweater, and presses a reverent kiss to my bare stomach.
“That’s my boy,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “Already making his presence known. Gonna be big and strong just like his old man.”
I thread my fingers through his hair, heart full. “You’re going to be such a good father.”
He looks up at me, eyes intense. “Only because I’ve got the best mother for our kids. I’m never going to let you doubt how much you’re wanted, Chloe. Not for one damn day.”
We still haven’t told many people about the pregnancy, but the town has already started guessing.
Between my glowing skin, the way Grant can’t keep his hands off my belly, and the fact that he has started turning down extra shifts to be home more, it isn’t exactly a secret anymore.
Silver Lake has fully embraced me as one of their own.
Grant stands up and scoops me into his arms, carrying me toward the front door. “Where are we going?” I ask, laughing as I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Bed,” he growls, nipping at my neck. “I need to remind my pregnant wife exactly how much I love every sexy inch of her.”
He lays me down gently on our bed and makes love to me slow and deep, whispering filthy praises and sweet promises between every thrust. Afterward, he pulls me against his chest, one hand resting protectively over my belly as we catch our breath.
“I love you, Chloe,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “More every damn day.”
“I love you too,” I whisper back, content in a way I’ve never been before.
Our loud, messy, love-filled home on the lake is everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and so much more. With Grant by my side, I finally feel like I am exactly where I belong.