Epilogue #1
Bones
S he's pissed.
Full-on, nuclear, slamming-cabinet-doors pissed. And fuck, it's adorable.
Whatever storm's been brewing in that head of hers has finally hit landfall. I've seen it coming for weeks — hell, months — but she didn't say a word. Not one. I know exactly what it's about. It's been flashing in her eyes in bright neon lights, but I didn't press. She'll say it when she's ready. Or she'll explode. Depends on what buttons I push first.
Right now, she's stalking around the kitchen like she's planning a war and pretending she's cooking. Spoiler: she's not. She's silently raging. Slamming drawers, rattling utensils, stabbing a poor bell pepper to death on the cutting board like it personally offended her.
It's coming. I can feel it.
And I'd be lying if I said I can't fucking wait for it. I didn't want to make the first move. Not this time. This time, I wanted it to come from her. I've seen how much more it meant when she was the one making that first step. Reconfirming her choice every time.
Living with her — waking up to her in my arms, kissing her shoulder before she stretches, breathing her in before I even open my eyes — it's everything. We moved in together over a year ago. I offered to build us something new, but she wanted to stay here. At least for a little while longer. And that's enough for me. I'd live in a tent if it meant falling asleep with her pressed against me. Hell, I wouldn't even need the tent. Just her.
I didn't force the move. She made the first call there, too. Sure, I might've nudged things along — I'm not a saint, after all — but in the end, it was her decision. I moved in so fast after she asked, it didn't even take me two hours. She didn't even realize what was happening until my clothes were already taking a quarter of her closet.
I can feel she's close to snapping, and I can't hold it in anymore.
I lean back in my chair, sip my beer, and say it like I've got no clue what's going on. "Something wrong, baby?"
She stops dead.
Hands on hips. Spins. Laser beam eyes on me.
"Baby?" she hisses. "That's all I am to you? Baby ?"
Oh, shit. She's so fucking cute when she's furious. I try not to grin. I fail.
Swear to God, if looks could kill, I'd be a pile of ash on the floor right now.
I get up and pull her into my arms, even as she swats me once, half-heartedly, on the chest. She melts against me anyway. She always does. I kiss her — slow, deep — and when I pull back, I whisper, "You're my entire life, baby."
She steps back. Crosses her arms. Eyebrows raised to the heavens. "Your entire life, huh? Well, good for me, I guess! So I don't need to be your Ol’ Lady or your wife now, do I? Since I'm apparently your entire life ."
My smile stretches but it slips instantly.
Because I see it — her lip trembling, her eyes misting over.
No. Absolutely fucking not. Unacceptable.
I close the distance in a heartbeat. Cup her face in my hands gently.
"Baby, your cut is already waiting," I whisper. "Has been for a long time. Since after our first date, the dinner. Your ring, too." I kiss her forehead softly. "I just tried to keep your pace. Give you the time you needed. I didn't rush you because I wanted it to be your choice. All of it." I look directly into her eyes. I need her to understand this. "Temper, you are my entire life. Make no mistake, baby — I've been ready for you. Always."
She blinks fast, like her mind's racing to catch up with her heart. Then her eyes darken — sharpen — with need.
"Bring me my cut and my ring, Bones. Now." It's a fucking order. A command. Absolute. Final. No room for questions. I obey instantly.
Both the cut and the ring have been hidden in her own damn closet all this time. Top shelf. The one she can't reach, not even in heels — which means I'm the only one using it. It was dusty as hell when I took over it. Like it had been abandoned for eternity.
The first night I moved in, we took the old cut — the one she stole from my room — out back and set it on fire together. Watched it burn to ash in the dark. No words. Just the flicker of flames eating away the past while we stood there, taking another step into our future together.
Now, standing in front of her again, cut in one hand, ring box in the other, I'm smiling like a fucking lunatic. My heart's pounding hard enough to crack my ribs. She's staring at me like she wants to rip the leather out of my hands and demand I hurry the hell up.
"Turn around, baby," I say, voice low.
Her eyes widen. "What? No asking?"
I shake my head, eyes dark. "No fucking way am I asking. You already made your choice. I gave you that chance. There's no asking now, my fiery Temper. You're mine."
And just like that, she melts. A slow, all-consuming smile blooms across her face. She turns around — no resistance, no hesitation.
When I settle the cut over her shoulders, when I see the weight of it hug her frame, I swear something in me snaps free. The kind of release you only feel when your soul finally clicks into place. I wrap my arms around her from behind and open the small box in front of her.
The ring is simple. Clean lines. But that stone? A ruby, deep red and wild like flames. Fiery — just like her.
"I love you so fucking much it hurts sometimes," I whisper in her ear. "Feels like my heart's working overtime just to keep up. You're everything, Temper. I'll marry you anytime, anywhere, however the hell you want it."
She doesn't speak. For a long fucking time. Just stares at the ring I slip on her finger, hand stretched in front of her.
By the time she finally turns to face me, I'm already really fucking worried. Tears are sliding down her cheeks and her green eyes — brighter than I've ever seen them — lock on mine.
"I love you too, Bones," she whispers. "So much you live in every inch of me. Mind, body, soul."
Sweet relief shoots through me. And then she kisses me. Soft. Fierce. Home.
Never thought I'd have this again. Every time I think I've hit my limit on how happy I can be, she finds a new way to move it even further.
This time, she does it with a smirk.
And four words that nearly knock me to my fucking knees.
"I'm pregnant, big man."
My breath catches.
She keeps grinning.
"All that naughty sleeping you've been doing? Apparently turned my pills useless. Time for you to start shopping for baby biker onesies."