I finally know the ending to my story.

The world has enough tragedies. The life we live right now, the way every day is full of little pains and ugliness and constant disappointments, is enough tragedy for anyone.

I should know. I’ve lived my share of it all.

But I’ve come through the other side to my happy ending, and I think my Eden deserves the same.

As does anyone who might read her story and see a little bit of themselves in the many pieces of myself that I put into her tale.

So maybe the story turned into a bit of a thriller, and my heroine gets her happy ending.

Her beloved hero wakes up from his coma as if she’s willed him back to life with her strength and dedication to stay by his side, no matter how long it takes. And me?

I get my happy ending, too.

And I’m looking at it across the altar right now.

I'm looking at him.

It’s a small wedding, just like we wanted, but it’s full of big presence.

Milah in the front row, smiling through bursts of tears, surrounded by the entire Enguard team. My idol Kenna Strauss is even there, next to Landon.

I mean, she should be, we’re at her house, getting married on the gorgeous beach outside their estate, the sea wind blowing through my hair and threatening to send my crown of flowers sailing.

Em’s my matron of honor, standing close by in an adorable knee-length slip dress in spring green to match her eyes. And she can’t stop smiling at Riker’s best man, none other than Ryan Godart – even if his father, Mike, is conspicuously absent – with security alerted to escort him off the premises if he even shows his face. Ryan's back with his mom now.

My father’s conspicuously absent, too, though it’s not entirely deliberate.

In a perfect world, I’d have possibly forgiven him just enough for him to attend my wedding, if he’d shown real, on-his-knees honest remorse. But there wasn't even a chance.

He’s currently in police custody after spilling his guts. After losing ninety percent of his fortune.

Life's nothing like he imagined, at least temporarily, until his plea deal for ratting out several other big names in his industry goes through.

Maybe the past few months in jail will teach him the things he never seemed to learn about being human.

I’m surprised how much I don’t miss him. But it’s been hard to miss my old life when my new life keeps coming together so wonderfully.

Riker finally got me a ring. I finally finished Eden in Alaska, and my literary agent is in final negotiations with a major publisher for an advance and publishing deal.

Busting Lion gave the FBI what they needed to bring down the entire multi-state Pilgrims organization. That shadow isn't over us anymore, leaving our days and our lives bright and breathless and perfect.

Every moment led us up to this day, when I can finally look at Riker so handsome in his suit and realize in just a few moments, in just a few words, this man looking at me with his heart in his eyes will be my husband for the rest of our lives.

When I first met Riker Woods, I never could've imagined that he’d be so warm. So open.

So expressive, the love written on his face for everyone to see as he clasps my hands tight and we listen to the priest reading us through our vows. Those perfect words.

Those sweet, perfect words that I’m hardly aware I'm speaking, when my entire world narrows on him.

His smile.

That spark in his vivid green eyes.

The way his lips shape every syllable of to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. And then the priest asks me, there are only two words I could ever say.

Two simple words to go with his three.

“I do.”

And then it’s Riker’s turn, and his small, warm smile turns into a full, dazzling grin, teeth white against the silver-and-brown trim of his beard.

“I do, Liv. Always. Now and forever, I do.”

My heart nearly rockets from my chest.

The priest gets maybe half a second more to tell us we’re officially man and wife.

Then we’re in each other’s arms, fused together as we share our first kiss as forever. He tastes like the promise of every future I’ve ever wanted.

Like the independence I’ve fought to have for myself as I cut myself loose from the last strings tying me to my father and a life that was never my own.

He tastes like every dream I’ve ever had, and I lose myself gladly in him, in the firmness and heat of his mouth, in the way he turns me inside out with every sighing stroke and whisper of my name.

We might have stayed that way forever if not for Milah’s voice rising over the laughter and applause. “Hey, you two. Save some for the honeymoon.”

Flushing hotly, I break back, looking up at Riker. I can’t stop smiling, and he’s just as bad, grinning from ear to ear. Leaning in, he whispers against my ear. “So is this the perfect wedding we talked about?”

“Any wedding would be perfect as long as you’re here,” I tease, curling my fingers against the back of his neck. “For a minute, I was afraid you'd get cold feet.”

“Never. You’re what I’ve been after for years, Liv.” He steals another kiss, leaving me warm from the inside out. “You’re the reason I learned how to live again.”

I don’t get a chance to answer when the entire wedding rushes in on us.

Everyone wants to congratulate us, hug us, from Riker’s coworkers to Em’s grandparents. Somehow the wedding tumbles into a small reception party around Landon and Kenna’s pool, with Milah up on a dais built just for her and belting out her latest single while people eat, dance, stroll together.

Riker and I have our first wedding dance, and it’s mostly us laughing and him holding me up while I trip over my train and then finally just give up and tie it around my waist like the heathen I am so that he and I can swirl in and out of each other’s arms and let the whole world fall away just a little bit more, once again.

I’ve never been this happy in my life.

Even when we’re pulled apart again.

What no one ever tells you about weddings is that everyone wants a piece of you because everyone wants to touch a little of your happiness, like it’s starshine that can rub off on them in magic, glittery dust.

I’m happy to share that with them with laughter, with hugs, with shared gifts, with warm and friendly conversation. Sometimes I feel like I never truly knew what family was, but these people feel like family.

These people feel like home.

Once the pool is ringed with wrapping paper and the tables piled high with gifts and everyone is pleasantly tipsy, we’re about to make our grand, melodramatic escape for our honeymoon when James intercepts us.

He offers a dark maroon whiskey gift box with the name Glenfiddich on the outside, wrapped up in a pretty gold ribbon and bow.

“I nearly forgot,” he says, smooth as always. He doesn’t creep me out anymore, but he still manages to be cold as ice even under the summer sun. “Your wedding gift, my friend.”

Riker snorts a laugh as he takes the box, eyeing it appreciatively. “It’s not a gift if I won it fair and square, you cheap bastard.”

“You didn’t win,” James points out coolly. “Remember? The condition was three catastrophes to win the bet. I dare say this?” He glances around the reception, then stops with a pointed look at me, one brow arching. “Hardly qualifies as a catastrophe.”

“I’ll give you that one,’ Riker admits dryly.

“You shall.” James sweeps a mocking half-bow. “Now, as I'm the only sober one here, I’ll bring your car around so you can make your escape.”

Rolling his eyes, Riker fishes his keys from his pocket and tosses them at James. James catches them out of the air, then melts through the crowd and away. I watch him for a moment, then give Riker a puzzled look.

“What was that about?”

Riker actually blushes. My big, rugged, stoic man actually blushes.

“James and I had a bet. He thought the Enguard run of disasters was over. My father taught me good and bad things come in threes, so I was ready for one more.” He looks down at me then, his smile warmer than the sun. “But I lost, and I'm glad. Because you’ve been the best thing to ever happen to me, and to Em.”

I can’t even find the words to tell him I feel the same.

So I just pull him down into a kiss, and let my lips shape every emotion I don’t know how to say, trusting he knows me. He knows me.

And he feels everything I feel, down to the depths of both our souls.

It takes longer than expected to peel away from everyone and finally make our escape. The Wrangler is already loaded, packed with weeks’ worth of camping equipment.

I’ve never been properly camping before, even with that week at the cabin, so our honeymoon is a long drive down the coast to Baja, spending every night sleeping under the stars.

I’m almost sad Em will miss this, but she’s happy with her new Russian Blue kitten and a few weeks with her grandparents. The new cat, Toby, is totally adorable.

She's been obsessed with them since a visit to Landon's house introduced her to his Velvet and Mews.

Fine by me. Right now, frankly, I don’t want to share Riker with anyone.

The sun is just setting over the Pacific when we pull off the road for the first night and find a secluded beach cove to set up camp. Riker shows me how to do all the little things.

He’s never once patronized me over needing to learn things others just know as part of growing into adulthood, and everything he teaches me I take in, use it to build myself up stronger.

Everyone has to learn some time, right? There’s no shame in learning a little later in life. Riker taught me that, too.

So freeing.

Yeah. That’s a good word.

It’s freeing, to know I can explore and discover and grow into who I want to be without anyone shaming me for it, least of all my new husband.

We settle in front of our tent to watch the stars come out over the ocean, framed by the silhouette of an old shipwreck on shore, left to fall apart and pulled to pieces by the wind and waves.

Dinner is kebabs roasting on skewers over the fire, filling the night with savory scents of grilling meat, mushrooms, vegetables, then plenty of wine to go around. With a contented sigh, I rest my head on Riker’s shoulder and look up at the sky, tracing the dark outline of a leaning, half-broken mast.

“Hey, Riker?”

He stirs from his silence next to me with a murmur. His arm is warm around me, sheltering me from the faint chill and damp bite of the night breeze. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You never told me...why model ships?”

He blinks, then chuckles, the rumble of it vibrating straight through me.

“Because they let me build something that’s almost impossible to take apart again.” His hold on me tightens, fingers gently stroking down my arm. “I spend time putting all these tiny parts together. And once that ship’s in the bottle, it’s there. Secure. Whole. Nothing can touch it. Nothing can change it. Nothing can ruin it.” He looks down at me, that easy, warm smile lingering on his lips. “Just a quiet, beautiful little bit of forever.”

I lean into him with a gentle nudge. “Is that what you’ve been looking for? A quiet, beautiful little bit of forever?”

“Guilty.” He brushes his fingers under my chin, tilting my face up to his. “And now I've found it.”

He kisses me as though he could keep me tucked in this moment forever.

As if I’m a fragile thing he wants to hold and preserve and always protect. And even if I’ve grown stronger all these months, even if I’ve learned to stand on my own, I still can’t help but melt into the delicious feeling of him.

All his manly strength enveloping me, sheltering me, reminding me that every time I ever feel small and afraid, he’ll always be there. My bulwark and my shield.

My love, my life, my husband, my everything.

He guides me again as I push him back onto the sand-strewn blanket and look down in the light of the stars and the flickering flames.

God. I love how his body feels between my legs as I straddle him, his thick bulk spreading my thighs until they ache and I feel so open and ready for him.

Even when I'm on top, he's in full control.

His tough, strong hands on my body shape me.

He caresses me out of my clothes, stroking over every inch of me until I know his touch with every fiber of my being.

I don’t feel vulnerable, even fully naked on top of him, bared to the moon and the stars, while he's beneath me.

I just feel beautiful. He touches me with a hunger, a lust that can’t get enough and makes my entire body shiver with sweet anticipation.

I'm dying for him. Aching for his touch, melting wet, burning down every second he isn't lighting me on fire.

“Riker, yeah!”

His name purrs softly on my lips, a single sensual word as our mouths mate and part and mate again.

Our bodies tangle together and fuse hotter and hotter, fires into infernos.

Then I whimper, a little louder, sweet for him in the way I know he likes. “Please. Fuck me, please.”

It’s the first time I’ve begged for him as his wife.

The first time I’ve called his name as my husband.

Riker always was my first in everything, and now this night marks one more new beginning.

Another first, as finally he gives in to my coaxing touches, my begging lips, my grinding hips, and lifts me over him.

The better to free his cock, pressing up against me, ready for the conquest.

I don’t know if he rocks up into me or I sink down onto him first, but suddenly we’re just caught in each other’s tide.

Rolling with the ebb and flow. One rhythm. And he’s moving so deliciously inside me, filling me in that way only he has, an aftershock of sharp, gliding pleasure that tunes my entire body to his frequency until we're trembling and gasping together.

“You'd better come for me, sweetheart. Come so fucking hard.”

Like it's even a choice.

I throw myself into him, riding his cock, all drifting ass and lungs crawling up my throat. My pussy clenches him so hard, I think we'll both break. He thrusts like mad, hurling himself into me, throwing his full, glorious bucking weight at my hips.

And I'm gone.

Coming!

Somewhere in the white hot eye-rolling heat, I just know how much I love him.

Love and adore him more than I could ever love anyone else, and it fills me as deeply as the thrust and taunt and surge of his cock as I give myself over to the fire building between our bodies.

He doesn't stop for my release. He only flogs it harder, higher, splitting me open with long, deep strokes, a feral growl deepening in his throat.

The animal glare in his eyes brings me off faster again than should even be humanly possible.

Nothing could break this moment.

Nothing could ruin it.

Alone against the sea, alone against the sky, alone with each other, trapped in something sacred and profane and forever binding. Riker will always be a part of my body, a part of my heart, and it feels as though we trade breaths, trade hearts as the writhe and flow of our bodies reaches fever pitch.

I almost can’t tell pleasure from pain, love from heartbreak, with the intensity of emotion rushing over me. My body turns into fire, then bursts into sparks, as waves of need and blazing release surge through me.

My awareness narrows down to the wild, searing sensation as my flesh convulses around his cock, forcing me to be aware of his thickness, of the way he throbs inside me, the way he pulses and swells with a tortured groan.

“Liv, fuck!”

That's when I let go, and so does he.

He fills me so good.

My husband fills me like no other man ever can.

There’s a single moment frozen between us as our bodies lock. Timeless, breathless perfection.

Then we’re spiraling away, still tangled together as we come crashing down.

His pubic bone grinds my clit, his hands dig into my ass, and I couldn't hold back if I tried.

We come together with a force that's almost scary. Twitching, screaming, clutching, groaning, and totally, forever undone.

My body doesn’t want to hold me up anymore.

So I just sink down on Riker with his cock still inside me, snuggled close, content to let his body keep me warm against the night chill.

He holds me tight, his heaving breaths slowly stilling until he’s quiet underneath me, and I can lull myself nearly to sleep by just the faint rumble emitting from his throat and the pure, deep contentment that’s fallen over me.

Here I am. Mrs. Riker Woods.

It’s like I’m a completely different person from the girl who, at the beginning of this strange and sordid path, stood frozen and afraid while a man died at her feet.

There’s no more death in my future. Only life, however I want to make it.

However we want to make it.

You really don't know which day will be the last day of your life.

But you never know which day will be the first, either – and the start of something more amazing, more real than you ever could've dreamed.

You don't know when you'll meet the man worth calling yours.

Thanks for reading Still Not Yours! Look for James' book coming soon.

Burning to find out what happens to Riker and Liv after they're happily wed?!

Then read on for a preview of Skylar and Gabe's book, Still Not Into You. FREE in Kindle Unlimited.