Epilogue

“Regan?” Maddox’s voice sounded around the side of the house, competing with the somnolent bees and birdsong. Oscar looked up from his sprawl in a particularly sunny spot on the lawn, his tail lashing lazily.

“I’m here.” She ruefully considered the state of her clothing and peeled off her gloves. Her manicure had survived, a good thing, seeing as she needed to look different than a gardener in a couple of days.

He sauntered up to her, still wearing his suit. He leaned in to give her a lingering kiss. “The grounds look amazing, baby.”

She inched backward. “Careful. I’m filthy. That suit will never be the same.”

“I don’t care.” He scooped her close and kissed her more soundly. She squeaked and then fell into the sensation.

“The bride shouldn’t have to prepare the venue for her own wedding,” he chided.

“This bride should. I want to.”

“You’ll be exhausted on Saturday.” He released her and took her hand, drawing her toward the house. “At least let me bring in some guys to finish the heavy work.”

“Uh-uh. I’m putting my diploma to good use. And it’s not as if I’m setting up the chairs and the tent. Or doing the catering.”

Their guests weren’t numerous but included his mother and sister and her family, of course, those women pleased to welcome her to the fold and affording Regan considerable happiness. Then there were some of her classmates and a number of Maddox’s business colleagues, as well as a few of their neighbors and her clients. Gloria was coming, all the way from Montana with a plus one, arriving on the Friday.

Regan had ordered a pair of chaps for Maddox, as well as boots and hats for both of them, and she hid her smile at his anticipated response when Gloria delivered them.

He shook his head at her refusal to give up the work, walking her inside the back entrance and inside the mudroom. “You’re a stubborn wench and I love that about you.”

With the efficiency that always took her breath away, he stripped her down to her underwear, tossing the soiled outer clothing into the bin set there for that purpose. She stood patiently, aware he regarded this ritual as unwrapping a gift and then pattered ahead to race him up the stairs. Any self-consciousness she had possessed had long since melted away due to his vast approval of her just the way she was.

He caught her as she entered the master bedroom and nipped her shoulder. She scrambled onto the bed and watched as he removed his own clothes. When his shirt came off and joined his suit jacket, she leaned forward to open his belt.

He was already hard beneath his slacks, and she carefully lowered the zipper to set him free. But before she could touch him, he shoved his remaining clothing off and was on her, pinning her to the mattress.

Kissing his way down her torso, he folded her bra cups down and flicked each nipple with his tongue. She felt him smile against her skin when she shivered and arched into his touch. His big hands covered her breasts as he nuzzled over her mound before he used them to hold her hips steady.

As she let her legs part, his dark head lowered and he pressed a kiss against the silk covering her. An instant later, her panties were gone and his clever mouth delved between her folds. A pleasurable torture, she couldn’t retreat, his body now holding her thighs wide as he tasted her.

Knowing exactly what worked the best for her, he drove her need ever higher with languid licks and suckling. When he finally turned his attention to her clit, it took but a few moments of tender pressure for her to climax.

“God, Maddox.”

She’d tangled her fingers in his hair without thought, and tightened them, holding him to her as the shuddering waves of pleasure diminished. He lifted his head and watched her, their gazes colliding.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said.

She tugged him up and over her body, only then relinquishing her hold to snuggle close. “How do you get any work done?”

“Coming home makes it all worthwhile, baby.” He eased his weight on his elbows. “And come Saturday, you’ll be mine forever.”

His thick erection found its way past her entrance, her slick tissues parting to accommodate him. She’d been his since that day in old Mr. Murphy’s office—as he’d been hers, despite the rocky and misunderstood journey—but marrying her was important to him.

Fully joined, she put her arms around him as he wrapped her up. Rocking together in a celebration of their love, she spared a thought for the upcoming Saturday. Yes, theirs would be a small wedding, held on the lovingly repaired grounds of their house, witnessed by people she was proud to call family and friends.

A far cry from The Inn, not that the where mattered. Wherever Maddox was, she was home.

The End

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