Epilogue
Two years later
Finn
I thought all that Skylar wanted to do was sell books and records in a small town.
And I thought my job was to stay behind the scenes. Keep an old building updated and safe, while my wife and her staff did their thing.
Raven’s Books, Music & Sundries has turned into so much more than that.
As such, it’s been a challenge to pull my wife away for a mini getaway today, the first anniversary of our marriage.
The witchy group that currently occupies the comfy sofas and chairs in the corner by the windows has pulled Skylar into a conversation about stocking ethically sourced sage smudge sticks at the store.
“I have tried, but I’m a little lost,” she tells the group as she sits perched on the armrest of the overstuffed velvet sofa.
All the furniture in here is mismatched and thrifted personally by Skylar.
I offered to help her pick out all new pieces, but she was adamant that the place have a lived-in vibe.
Her instincts were right, of course. It’s a vibe, and people love it. “Everything I’ve looked at seems sus.”
“Riley, can you ask Rowdy? He can probably get us whatever we need by tomorrow,” someone asks.
Riley Hutchinson grimaces. “Rowdy would get us the moon if I asked,” she says about her husband. “But I can’t promise he won’t violate any laws in the process.”
This gets a laugh from the group. I wait patiently as they talk, checking on the time of our reservation for the tenth time today.
I don’t know why I’m so wound up about it.
I’m feeling unusually overprotective lately as Skylar seems to wear herself out more and more with the demands of running the store.
Something has to change, and I feel it in my blood, even if I can’t verbalize it.
Skylar just can’t pull herself away from the store sometimes.
She’s a people person, and we’ve been very fortunate that people have gravitated to the store in a big way.
Book clubs, knitting groups, and writing groups are a regular weeknight feature, prompting Skylar to extend store hours to 10 p.m. As a result, more downtown businesses have started keeping their doors open late.
When the public library reached out because their tutoring spaces were getting crowded, I built a tutoring nook.
We added a small private party room that doubles as a space for anonymous support groups for addiction, for families struggling with loved ones’ addictions, and for LGBTQ+ groups needing to connect.
The store is a haven not just for readers, writers and music collectors, it’s turned into a much-needed gathering space for people of all walks of life.
Skylar turns no one away who comes in off the street in need of a restroom whether they are customers or not.
That alone has kept me busy maintaining, expanding and upgrading the plumbing.
There was a time when I thought my age and experience made me an asset to her life, but being in Skylar’s orbit these past two years has educated me.
Changed me. The past two years, I became so much more than a former Navy man who sold a successful construction business and retired to a permanent vacation in a small town.
I’m more than the maintenance man who’s good with a drill.
I’ve met people I never would have met if it weren’t for Skylar.
I would take a bullet for most of the people who walk through that door.
And sometimes, I’m a literal security guard.
Songbird Ridge is a pretty safe little town for all types, but times are strange.
The wrong people sometimes feel emboldened to act like dickheads, and if I can prevent that, then I’m happy to hold the title of watch dog.
When Skylar finally clocks my antsy demeanor, she extracts herself from the witchy group.
“Ready to go?” I ask, looking forward to some old fashioned surf and turf at The Magpie.
Skylar leans in for a kiss. “I just have to check on something real quick, and then I’ll go upstairs and throw on some makeup.”
When she says “check on something real quick,” I know what that means.
While I’m trying to herd her upstairs to finish getting ready, she stops to chat with one of her employees, Shay, who had previously said she needed to talk to her one on one about something.
“What was it you needed, Shay?”
This turns into a conversation in Skylar’s office, which ends up including me as well.
Through Shay, we learned that the Department of Family Services has asked if we would be interested in partnering with their kinship care program.
This turns into a whole discussion about setting up a special collection of free books available to kids in foster care.
More staff is pulled in to discuss ideas and plans.
I go ahead and cancel our dinner reservation. Goodbye surf and turf.
Thirty minutes later, Skylar finally heads toward the back stairs that lead to our flat. “I’ll be five minutes.”
When we’re behind closed doors, I take both of our phones and turn them on silent, then put them in the basket in the entry way.
“How much time do we have?” Skylar asks, rushing to the bathroom.
“All the time in the world,” I say.
She peeks out of the bathroom and frowns. “Oh no. I’ve done it again, haven’t I? And on our anniversary! I’m so sorry!”
Without a word, I close in and tower over her where she stands in the bathroom doorway.
“I’m sorry,” she repeats.
“Stop apologizing,” I say, cupping her sweet face that I’ve kissed a million times, and I plan to kiss every day for the rest of my life, as many times as I can. “It’s not a good look on you.”
She smiles and bats her pretty lashes.
“That’s better,” I say, angling in and pressing my lips to hers. The kiss is a soft, warm respite from the busyness of our lives. When we can shut out the world for these moments, I don’t care if it’s at a fancy restaurant or just for a night enjoying each other at home.
Anywhere with her is both an adventure and a vacation. I’m her safe harbor and she is mine.
“What are we going to eat now? I know you were looking forward to some steak and seafood,” Skylar asks.
I move past her, into the bathroom, and turn on overhead rain showerhead.
“Shower first, then we can order in,” I say. “Besides, you’ve had a long day.”
“I like the way you think, Captain. I am so tired right now, but I didn’t want to admit it and ruin your night.”
I kiss my wife as the bathroom fills up with steam. Her soft tongue flicks into my mouth and I excitedly pull her tightly against my body.
Skylar sighs, fitting herself against my frame. She pulls away when she notices my aching, hard length pressing into her through our clothes. “Well, hello there,” she says flirtily.
“Hi, Strawberry.”
A sly smile pulls at her lips at the sound of her nickname. That’s all it takes for her to get rid of her clothes. I try to shed mine even faster, turning it into a race as she laughs.
I pull her against me under the hot, gentle stream of water. “I need you, Strawberry.”
“I need you too, Captain.”
Backing her against the tile, I wrap her around me. She is warm and delicious. Some days, while I’m fixing up something in the building, I daydream about taking her like this.
Skylar closes her eyes, smiling softly like an angel, with rivulets of water from the shower clinging to her curves.
When I lean down to claim one nipple with my mouth, she hisses. Her body twitches under me — a little more than usual.
I let go, reading her response as slightly more pain than pleasure. “Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head and opens her eyes. “Just feeling really sore and sensitive lately, that’s all.’
I don’t like this. A million thoughts run through my head. “Do you need to go to the doctor?”
My heart is racing.
But then she grins. “I was going to wait until we were at dinner but I might as well tell you now…I’m pregnant.”
At first, I stare at her as the information washes over me.
I’m going to be a dad?
“For real?”
She nods.
“You…you took a test?”
Again, she nods, biting back laughter.
“When? How?”
“I’m about a month and a half along. It’s early. But everything looks good.”
I’m overwhelmed with happiness. “We’re going to be parents? I’m going to be a dad?”
She nods, laughing.
I join her in laughter. “I want to pick you up and spin you around right now but I also don’t want to break my back in the shower.”
“So sit down and let’s practice safety in the water, Captain,” she jokes.
The built-in teak shower bench is sturdy and comfortable, and has been a pretty fun addition.
And if I know anything about pregnancy, she’s going to appreciate it in the third trimester.
I’m proud to be able to build her whatever she needs, for as long as I can.
I’m 44 now and I’m just getting started.
My wife sits astride me and joyfully takes me in her hand, guiding me into her heat.
I’m nearly blind with the absolute happiness I feel when we join together like this. The way she reacts to me, you’d think it was the first time all over again.
“Yes, Finn…”
“I’m going to take such good care of you and our baby,” I tell her.
“I know you will…oh god…”
With my hands on her hips, I control her movements. Slow. Deep. Letting her know exactly what’s on my mind.
“I can’t wait to show you…”
“Wh-what, Finn?”
“…my idea for a crib…”
“…my sweet man…”
“…and the nursery…”
I reach down between our bodies and find her clit, rubbing it with my thumb as she moves on me.
“…yes…”
“…and I want you to rest…don’t work so hard…hire a manager…and that’s an order…”
“Yes, Finn.”
“I want you healthy and I want to see you putting your feet up.”
“Okay…”
“Taking naps.”
“Yes…”
“Eating all the damn ice cream and oreos and whatever you want.”
Skylar’s release rolls through her and she shouts my name. I don’t know if it was me or the mention of junk food, but I’ll take it. Whatever she needs to make her writhe and wriggle.
“I love you, Captain.”
“I love you, too, Strawberry. So damn much.”
And I always will love her, our little family, and our great little life we’ve built together. Nothing is ever going to change that.
THE END