EPILOGUE

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

“Right there.”

“You like that?” he asked roughly, both fighting from laughing out loud.

“Yes! Please.” She giggled, then a thud sounded. “Ouch,” she whispered.

“Shh,” he warned. “You’re going to wake them up.”

“Move a little to the right, higher… right there! Yes!” she exclaimed in a hushed whisper, and he had to stifle a groan at her beautiful tits in front of him,

They carefully stepped out of the pantry. He looked at her and shook his head. “I can’t believe we are sneaking treats out of our own pantry.”

“They eat everything!” she pointed out, and he knew she was right. “I mean, they can, it’s okay. It’s just food, but still.”

“This is quite the spread,” he pointed at all the snacks she had wanted to munch on, his own hands filled with bags and snack boxes.

“Shhh… if you wake them up, you are getting them back to sleep!”

“We should be asleep,” he pointed out, but she simply rolled her eyes walking out to the backyard, or more correctly, waddled out there, and he closed the French doors behind him.

Valerie and Bryan had thrown a Super Bowl party. His family and their friends had all shown up, and for the most part, everyone had looked like they’d enjoyed themselves.

Though, they currently found themselves with two overgrown, drunk houseguests. Garrett surlier than he had been in a while had had one too many beers along with Tyler. The guy had finally sacked up and approached the barista at the coffee shop he stalked, but had already messed things up somehow. Both the guys had drank and eaten their weight in beer and food, then had unceremoniously passed out on the sectional in the family room right before the final score of the game. Hell, he had taken and hidden their keys before half time.

Stepping out, he looked at her and pressed his lips together to stop a chuckle. “Baby, why don’t we sit in the swing?” he suggested, and her face snapped up to his. He could see the frustration in her eyes.

His wife was eight months pregnant, trying to sit in the hammock, and there was no way she would get in there and be comfortable, much less the two of them.

Looking at her under the moonlight, he thought about the simple wedding they’d had. She had told him she hadn’t wanted a big thing, but something about the way she’d been with him hadn’t settled right with Bryan.

He didn’t want the two of them to say their vows in a courthouse with none of their loved ones to witness it, but he would do anything for her. Thankfully, a week later, Tania had approached him and he had found out the real reason his sweet little goddess hadn’t wanted to plan a wedding. She didn’t have her own family, people who would want to help her plan it, and the idea of planning something like their special day and dealing for the obstacles the first trimester of pregnancy came with overwhelmed her. Morning sickness and fatigue had hit her like a Mack truck.

He’d sat on what Tania had shared with him for less than twenty-four hours before contacting his mom and grandmother with his plans. Bryan had surprised his girl with a house and a ring, and she had agreed to both. Two for two, he took another chance.

With the help of his family and friends, he’d been able to pull off a surprise wedding. One she had no clue about until the very day.

It had been an intimate affair. Vaughn had walked her down the aisle, and being the impatient son of a bitch Bryan was, he had met them halfway down and had carried her the other half to meet with the officiant.

Now, standing with her in their backyard, taking in her swollen belly that held their son, her blond hair plaited loosely in a messy French braid, wearing faded jeans and a football jersey, she took his breath away more than the day they had said ‘I Do’.

“I guess,” she muttered, waddling toward the swing he had bought and set up two months back. He had noticed how hard it was for her to get in and out of the hammock safely. As much as his girl liked them to cuddle, he couldn’t risk her getting hurt.

“I promise as soon as Henry makes his appearance to the world, the three of us are going to lie and swing in the hammock,” he told her not for the first time, and she muttered her agreement.

“Better?” he asked her as she sat down on the padded bench seat. She shrugged.

“I guess. I just like cuddling with you,” she complained, and he kissed the top of her head.

“Eating and lying down gives you heartburn. Plus, we’re still cuddling,” he pointed out. Sitting side by side, he handed her an Oreo. She gifted him with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Blondie,” he answered, meaning it in the most profound way possible.

She turned to look out at the backyard, settling her head on his shoulder as they sat and talked about their day.

“Oh!” She popped up, grabbing his hand, moving it so it would rest on top of her round belly.

“Is he moving?” he asked. He felt his son move and kick daily, but each time was like the first and felt like a gift.

“I told you he likes Oreos.” She giggled after he felt a hard thump against his palm. He grinned at her.

Life is pretty fucking great.

THE END