Epilogue
Sienna
One year later
I may be one year older today, but I feel ten years lighter. After repairs were done on both my house, and Sweets, I reopened the bakery with a bang. I also hired a staff of five to help make life a lot easier on Tessa and me. Though, it took weeks before I was able to fully let go and let them handle their duties without me hovering like a mother hen over her baby chicks. After the mess that ended with Hope being sent to a state mental institution, Jimmy ended up putting the garage up for sale and hauled ass to Miami, where his parents are living the high life of beach retirement. I can’t say any of us were sad to see his ass go.
For Matt and I, the last year has been a process of feeling each other out in all the best ways. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck up something that felt too good to ever give up. He is still bossy and overbearing, and I still find myself counting to ten at least a dozen times a day; though, I will honestly admit I hope that doesn’t change. I love him, and I’m not about to ask him to change any of the things that oddly make us what the girls jokingly refer to as Mienna. It would probably make life easier at times, it would also make it incredibly boring.
A few months ago, he surprised me by letting the lease go on his Fort Knox-style apartment to officially move in with me. Truth be told, I had only asked about a dozen times. Pretty sure I even said please. It may have been only a formality, since we rarely spent a night apart, but it felt right turning my home into our home.
Besides, there was no way I was giving up that kitchen. Or the shower. Matt agreed without question.
“Please tell me why we’re here again?” I shout at Briggs and Kelsie over the loud music, wishing I were at home with him now.
“It’s your birthday, whore!” Kelsie exclaims, throwing up her hands. “We’re here to party!”
The truth is, I don’t want to party. I had every intention of spending the night celebrating my anniversary of vaginal departure by being wrapped up in bed with Matt. My plans of takeout Chinese and cheesecake in bed with my favorite member of the police force were shot to hell when Liam Beckett called, asking Matt to cover his shift so he could stay home to take care of his wife, Megan, who is in bed with the stomach flu.
The moment the girls heard the news, they pounced on me like the pack of slutty wolves they are and demanded we head to Dirty Dog to celebrate like we did last year. Minus the drunken blunder that, even though was unbelievably embarrassing, didn’t end all that badly after all. The major difference from last year is that being I am the only one of us girls in a committed relationship, I get the pleasure of being their wing-woman, as well as their designated driver in the event they both get hammered.
Which they did within the first hour of being here.
“Cheer up, hooker,” Briggs says, pinching my cheek. Looking at her watch, she leans in close and waggles her brows. “Tonight is going to top last year. I promise.”
“Dammit, Briggs.” Narrowing my eyes, I study her carefully. “If you hired a stripper, I will beat you with my shoe.”
“Bitch, please,” she huffs, waving me off dismissively. “If I hire a stripper it sure as hell won’t be for you. I’m also pretty sure they don’t rent the dancers out here for private grind sessions.”
The song by Adelitas Way stops as we make our way through the crowd, heading for the bar. “I hope you like surprises!” a male voice announces over the speakers. “Because you’re in for a fucking treat! We’ve got some new talent hitting the main bar tonight, ladies!” he adds, then Ride by Chase Rice begins to play.
“Oh God! I’m so excited!” Kelsie squeals. Grabbing my hands, she and Briggs yank me down from my stool. “Time to hit the bar.”
“I’m not drinking!” I shout, my words lost to the screaming as I try to keep up with them in my heels. Taking their cue, each dancer leaps onto the heavy wooden bar tops. Their boots slam against the wood as they grind and roll their hips to the slower, more sensual beat. Every man up there could be chiseled out of stone. Seriously, I would be lost in a lusty haze if I wasn’t head over heels for Matt.
My heart leaps into my throat when my eyes move up a familiar pair of thighs covered in faded denim. The mouthwatering v-lines leading up to the abdomen and ink-covered chest make me do a double take. I have spent hours touching and tasting every inch of that body over the last year. “What the holy hell?”
Matt moves his hips and stomps his feet in time with the beat. Locking eyes with me, he winks, a sexy as hell smirk spreading across his handsome face. The guys dancing on either side of Matt, jump down behind the bar, giving him plenty of room to work. Grabbing the handle above him, he spins twice, before dropping to his knees. Meeting my eyes, he crooks his finger, silently bidding me closer.
Pumping his hips, he grinds on the bar and I feel every shift of his body between my legs as if he were there now, doing every single thing described in the song. Every move he makes is erotic and so fucking hot I am damn near salivating. His chest and torso are damp with a sheen of sweat, making every hard inch of muscle glisten against the spotlights above the bar. My man looks like absolute sin and all I can think about is devouring every inch of him the moment I get my hands on him. If only I could move my feet. I am frozen in place, unable to do anything other than watch my man work the bar like it’s his job. Pretty ironic since when we first met I thought it was. I can’t help smiling at the memory, even if I can also feel the blush of embarrassment spreading across my cheeks from it as well.
Pushing to his feet, Matt leaps from the bar, landing on his feet in front of me. The crowd around us loses their minds, women screaming so loud it nearly drowns out the music. Taking my hands, he presses a kiss to each before dragging them down his chest, stopping at his belt buckle. Bucking his hips, his smile only widens when I wobble unsteadily. He licks his lips and I nearly convulse on sight. Winding one of my arms behind his neck, he slips one of his around my waist, and pulls me hard against him, grinding his hips into me as he sings the words in my ear.
“Why, Officer,” I gasp, gripping onto his forearm with my other hand, the scent of his cologne and sweat hitting me immediately, making my knees weak. “I think you may have missed your calling.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he breathes against my ear. His hand drops to my ass, giving it a rough squeeze. “You’ll get a private show the second I get you home.”
Suddenly, the music cuts out, and he drops to one knee so fast it takes everything in me not to end up on the floor with him. Stumbling forward, I drop both hands to his shoulders to steady myself, then quickly straighten when a spot light hits us, making the crowd around us fall silent. “Everybody give it up for our guy, Matt. He tore it up!” the same voice from before echoes through the speakers.
Oh. My. Damn.
Taking my hand, Matt places my palm over his heart and looks up at me through his dark lashes. “Sienna Keaton, I love you so damn much. I want to spend the rest of my life writing the story that started here a year ago with the tequila-fueled groping of my favorite appendage. I guarantee I’ll boss you around and drive you crazy. I also promise to slap your ass whenever it’s in reach and never stop trying to cop a feel while you’re decorating baked goods. Marry me.”
“Now that’s some vows,” Briggs whoops, clapping her hands.
“Are you proposing?” I blurt, clapping my other hand over my mouth.
“Fuckin’ trying,” he laughs. “Bounced my knee off the corner of that bar. The shit these guys do every night is no joke. Feels like I’m kneeling on broken glass and jagged gravel right now. Maybe you don’t leave me hanging down here all night and say yes, yeah?”
“Get up here and kiss me, you bossy asshole,” I say on a rush of air, yanking on his hand. “Of course I’ll marry you.”
“Fuckin’ great.” Standing to his feet, Matt fishes in his front pocket, producing a ring. Sliding it onto my finger, he beams at me. “Happy birthday, Sweet Sienna.”
“Best one yet,” I inform him, pushing up on my toes to take his lips with mine.
If being with Matt has taught me anything, it’s that letting go of control doesn’t always lead to regret. And some of the best things in life come out of throwing away your self-imposed limitations and doing something bad.
The End