Epilogue II #2
I saw their wives—Estelle, Sierra, Isla—taking in Marie’s dress, her face, the way she looked at me with such obvious affection. It was their first time at the estate, their first glimpse of the home I’d kept hidden from the world, and they were taking it all in.
Then the smallest Easton took charge.
The front door banged open again, and Avery sprinted in, covered in sand, with Leo trailing behind her.
"Grandpa!" she shouted, then skidded to a halt as she saw Marie.
The little girl froze, and her blue eyes, like Jovie’s, went impossibly wide. She looked at Marie’s pink dress, then she looked down at her own pink sparkly shoes, then back at the dress.
"You're pink!" Avery declared, clapping with excitement. "I love pink! And you have curls! Like a princess! Are you a princess? Grandpa, did you find a princess?"
Marie blinked, startled by the sudden assault of enthusiasm, and her face softened into the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. She released my hand to crouch down, bringing herself to Avery’s level.
"Hi," Marie greeted warmly. "You must be Avery. And you’re right, pink is the best color. I think your shoes are the prettiest things I've ever seen."
Avery gasped, turning to Leo. “SEE? I told you!"
Leo, quiet and sweet with his messy brown hair, stepped forward shyly. "Hi. I'm Leo. Avery said we'd find treasure on the beach, but we only found crabs."
"Crabs ARE treasure," Avery insisted.
"Hi, Leo," Marie laughed gently. "I heard you’re the best paleontologist around. I’ll need to ask you all my dinosaur questions later.”
Leo nodded proudly.
She stood up, looking over the assembled family with a genuine smile, and just like that, the ice shattered into a thousand pieces.
The women moved first—it was a coordinated flank maneuver.
Estelle stepped forward, her light brown eyes warm for a woman who didn’t trust easily. "It’s lovely to finally meet you," she took Marie's hand. "We've been dying to know who managed to tame Easton Sr.”
"I don't think he's tamed," Marie laughed, glancing at me with a playful glint in her eyes. "Just... managed. Heavily managed."
Estelle grinned, approval flickering across her features. "I completely understand. I could say the same about Jax, couldn't I?”
“Yes, princess,” Jax drawled, stepping up beside his wife, pulling her against him. He looked Marie up and down, learning who’d captivated his father so. He noticed how naturally she leaned into me, the affection in her gaze, the lack of artifice.
His smirk melted into a genuine smile.
"Welcome to the family, Marie," Jax extended his hand, snake tattoos flexing on his neck. "Ignore my brothers. They were repeatedly dropped on their heads as children. I'm the normal one."
"Lies," Adrian bounced forward, ignoring personal space boundaries entirely.
He grabbed Marie's hand and shook it with both of his, grinning.
"Hi! I'm the fun one. I'm Adrian. You have majestic hair ribbons.
Can I touch them? No, wait, Wade looks like he wants to rip my throat out. I won't touch the ribbons.”
I growled low in my throat, stepping closer to Marie, my hand settling on the small of her back. "Back up, disaster. You're vibrating."
"I'm glistening!" Adrian corrected, grinning at Marie. "See? Possessive is a genetic defect. We all have it, even though Connor and I are adopted. Sorry in advance.”
He stepped back, and his hand immediately found the back of Isla's neck, a possessive touch that mirrored my own. “You’re so pretty, Marie. It’s hard to get away from them once they decide you’re theirs, isn’t it?” She glanced at me, aware of how protective the Easton men could be.
"I'm learning to handle it," Marie teased, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at me.
"Good," Connor rumbled. He had moved silently, as he always did, and was now towering over the group like a monolith. He looked at Marie with those dark, unreadable eyes.
Most people flinched under Connor's gaze, but my darling just smiled at him. "Hi, Connor. I hear you're the one who keeps them all alive."
Connor’s lip twitched. A miracle. "Barely." He looked at me, gave a sharp nod, and grunted.
Sierra stepped out from behind Connor’s massive arm, smiling shyly. She was small compared to her husband, soft where he was hard, but there was steel in her spine. "We're really happy you're here, Marie. This place is beautiful, and Wade talks about you constantly—Connor told me.”
Marie’s cheeks flushed, and she looked at me, surprise and pleasure warring in her expression. "He does?"
“Yes,” Jovie confirmed, moving in to hug Marie from the side. "It's gross. He's like a teenager. 'Marie likes this, Marie said that, Marie is beautiful.’ You are, but please take him off our hands before he gets worse.”
I wrapped an arm around Jovie, squeezing her. "Watch it, or you don't get access to the wine cellar."
"I brought my own," she smirked. "I know your stash. It's too expensive to drink casually."
The foyer dissolved into conversation, the noise level rising again as bags were moved and rooms were claimed. But they’d seen her, they’d met her, and they’d accepted her.
"Alright," I projected my voice over the din. "Get settled and unpack. The ladies want to see the terrace and the view. Boys, my office in an hour. We have business."
"Business?" Adrian groaned dramatically. "We're on VACATION! I brought my swimsuit with the fishies on it and everything!"
"The business of drinking scotch and scolding you,” I clarified.
"Oh. Okay then, I’m in.”
"I'm coming too," Jovie announced, already following the group toward the stairs. "I need the GOOD scotch to deal with these three for a week."
An hour later, the sun was beginning its descent, the sky streaked with orange and purple.
The house had divided, as it often did. The women had congregated on the sprawling back terrace overlooking the ocean, visible through the glass walls of my office. I could see them forming a circle of warmth and laughter as they got to know each other.
Marie sat between Estelle and Sierra, a glass in her hand, looking relaxed. She was throwing her head back, laughing at something Isla said, her curls bouncing. She looked radiant, but most of all, she looked home.
“You can stop staring, Dad. You're going to burn a hole through the glass."
I turned to find my family arrayed around my office in various states of relaxation. This was our ritual—their wives bonded, and my children measured each other up, shared victories, and planned futures.
Jax was leaning against my desk, swirling amber liquid in a crystal glass.
Connor sat in the leather armchair, taking up the entire thing, legs sprawled.
Adrian was pacing, examining the books on my shelves as if he’d never seen paper before.
Jovie was perched on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs.
"I'm not staring," I lied, moving to pour myself a drink. "I'm supervising."
"You're obsessed," Jax corrected, amusement rich in his voice. "It's a good look on you. Softens you up.”
"I am not soft," I took a sip of the scotch.
The mood in the room shifted, settling deeper. The banter faded, replaced by the serious camaraderie of people who’d fought wars together, both in the ring and out of it.
Jax set his glass down. "She seems perfect, Dad. Really."
"She is," I answered, looking back out the window at Marie. "She's been through hell. Things you wouldn't believe, and she came out of it with a heart that’s still soft, still open. She's brave in ways that make my brand of courage look like cowardice."
"She looked me in the eye," Connor noted. "Didn't flinch when we crowded her. That's rare."
"She stabbed a man," I mentioned casually.
Silence slammed into the room.
Adrian stopped pacing, Jax straightened up, Jovie stopped swinging her legs, and Connor’s eyes narrowed.
"Excuse me?" Adrian asked, turning slowly. "Did you just say she stabbed someone?"
"She did," I swirled my drink, a dark satisfaction curling in my gut at the memory. "He tried to blackmail her, so she walked into a room with him and put a kitchen knife in his gut. Twisted it, too."
A slow, feral grin spread across Adrian’s face. "Oh, she speaks my language. Can we keep her? Please tell me we're keeping her."
"She's not a pet, Adrian,” I said dryly. "She's my future wife."
The words hung in the air. I hadn't planned on saying them, but saying it out loud to my sons felt right. It felt inevitable.
“Wow,” Jax breathed. “You’re serious."
"Of course I'm serious," I looked at them, letting them see the certainty in my eyes. "She’s it for me. You boys found your matches early; it took me a lifetime. But now that I have her, I’m never letting her go."
Connor raised his glass. "To Marie."
"To the woman who finally brought the King to his knees," Jax added, clinking his glass against Connor’s.
"To the stabby Mrs. Easton!” Adrian cheered.
"To having a mom who isn't terrifying and who might actually bake cookies," Jovie toasted, grinning.
We drank, and for several minutes, comfortable silence settled. The kind of silence that only comes from people who know each other's darkest secrets and worst moments.
Then the door to my office opened, and Marie peeked in.
"Am I interrupting the secret meeting?” she asked, eyes twinkling.
"Never," I smiled, extending my hand to her. She crossed the room and leaned into my side immediately.
Adrian sat up straighter, and I recognized that gleam in his eye. The one that meant trouble.
"Hey, Marie," he said with deceptive casualness. "We're doing a poll. Unofficial, but important. Who's your favorite son?"
“Don’t answer that,” Connor warned immediately.