Epilogue
Dax
“Would you like a gourmet s’more, sir?”
The tray appears with a flourish in front of me, but I’m more interested in the woman holding it.
Catching Lisa by the waist, I pull the s’mores tray from her hand and set it on the workbench behind me. The scarred wood surface is covered with a linen tablecloth and a vase of lilies, but it’s a workbench all the same.
Three well-dressed art enthusiasts skirt around us, helping themselves to a s’more en route to the next cluster of sculptures on display.
Lisa giggles as I press her against the wall for a kiss. “Did I ever tell you that you look fucking sexy in an apron?”
“Sir!” She pretends to be appalled, but the flush in her cheeks tells me she loves it. “We’re at a gallery opening!” she scolds with mock indignation. “What sort of savages would engage in carnal relations at a sophisticated event celebrating arts and culture?”
“The kind of savage who holds his own art gallery opening in a steel fabrication warehouse,” I growl, kissing her again before I let her go. “And the sexy woman who came up with the idea in the first place.” I give her butt a fond squeeze. “Thanks again.”
She beams and glances around at the crowd. “I’m really impressed by the turnout.”
“Me, too.” I survey the room, a little dumbfounded by the number of people who showed up to gawk at steel art constructed by some no-name welder who just happened to make a wolf sculpture. And a tiger. And then a dancer and enough other random objects that Lisa finally said it was a shame to keep them cooped up in a warehouse where no one else could see them.
I’ve gotta admit, it’s been cool to have other people checking out my work.
A wet nose jabs into the back of my hand, and I look down at the baleful eyes of my dog. Well, our dog—mine and Lisa’s. Part bloodhound, part great-Dane, she looks like a steer with a thyroid condition. One of her long ears has gotten stuck under her lacy pink collar, and I untuck it as gently as possible.
“Hello, Miss Kitty,” I say. “How’s the party treating you?”
“She’s been a little naughty,” Lisa says. “I caught her begging Cassie for canapes.”
“The smoked salmon or the ones with the butternut squash and goat cheese?”
“The salmon, of course,” she says. “But Cassie gave her one of each to see which one she liked best.”
I pat the dog on the head. “Atta girl. A lady with a refined palate.”
Lisa laughs and picks up the tray of s’mores. “I should finish handing these out to guests,” she says. “Then I have a surprise to show you.”
I perk up at that, wondering if she bought another sexy lingerie set. I’ve become a big fan of La Perla over the last year. “Does the surprise involve you taking off your clothes?”
Lisa laughs and gives me a haughty expression. “As a matter of fact, it does.”
“That’s my favorite kind of surprise.”
She twirls away, and I watch her circulate around the warehouse handing out mini s’mores and compliments and smiles for everyone. People in her path light up as she passes, and my chest swells with pride that this amazing woman has agreed to spend the rest of her life with me.
That’s right. I proposed last month over a big dinner party at our place. Her whole family was there, and I popped the question between the amuse-bouche and the hors d’oeuvre courses. I got down on one knee like a damn gentleman and asked her to fuck me senseless for the rest of our natural lives.
All right, I was more eloquent than that. And she said yes, which made me the happiest son of a bitch to ever walk the earth.
“Hey, Dax.” Junie sidles up with a smile on her face and a mini s’more in one hand. “I really like your art.”
“Thank you,” I say. “And thanks for coming tonight, too.”
Junie grins wider. “Did you hear I’ve been driving a car?”
“I did. Simon said you were doing drivers ed classes. How’s that going?”
“Great.” She beams. “And maybe after I get my license, I can get a motorcycle license, too.”
“That would be awesome,” I tell her, meaning it. “Let me know if you need a lesson or two.”
“Deal.” She looks down at the dog, who is eyeing her s’more with lust-filled eyes. “Can I take Miss Kitty for a walk?”
“Sure thing. Her leashes are on that hook by the door. Pick whichever one you want. I think the orange one you like is on the end.”
“Nah, she’s wearing the pink lace collar, so she needs the pink lace leash to match. Everyone knows that.”
I laugh as my dog trots off with Junie, all loyalties forgotten as she fixes her eyes on the s’more.
I turn my attention to a pair of guests who step up to ask me about my inspiration for one of the pieces. After that, the editor from some art magazine—the same guy we met at the show with the wolf photos—stops by to talk about connection between CoolTanks manufacturing and my artwork. I’m so focused on doing the artist thing that I lose track of Lisa for a moment.
The second she steps up behind me, I know she’s close. I sense her somehow, and I turn to see her beaming up at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, sexy. Got a sec?”
“I’ve got all the sex you want.”
She giggles and grabs my hand. “Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”
She tows me toward my private office, weaving through scattered pockets of people staring at the sculptures. When we get to the room, she shuts the door behind us and leans against the edge of my desk with a grin.
“You know how I said I had a spa appointment this morning?”
I nod and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, mostly an excuse to touch her. “Right, at that place downtown?”
“Yes, but I might have fibbed a little.” She smiles. “Not about the appointment, but what it was for.”
“What do you mean?”
She grins and slides her apron off over her head, then sets it aside on the desk. “Well, I went to get this.”
Before I can say anything, she turns around with her hands braced on the desk. My dick surges as she hikes up her skirt, and it takes me a second to realize it’s not an invitation.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, mesmerized by her left butt cheek. More mesmerized than normal, that is. “You got a tattoo?”
“Uh-huh.” She looks over her shoulder and gives me a smile that’s almost shy. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” I reach out to touch it, but remember at the last second to keep my hands off fresh ink that’s still healing. “It’s a wolf,” I say rather unnecessarily.
“It is,” she says. “I took the artist a picture of your sculpture and asked him to draw something inspired by that.” She slides her skirt back down and turns to face me. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I breathe. “It’s amazing.”
“I always used to say tattoos were tacky,” she admits. “Then I met you.”
I cross my arms, making sure to flash my own palette of ink. “Aren’t you the same woman who said you wanted to lick each of my tattoos, one by one?”
She grins and nods. “Exactly. I wanted my own to remind me that the things you can’t imagine yourself doing—the things that make you scared or scornful or judgey—those can end up being what you love most of all.”
“Your tattoo is great,” I say, eager for another glimpse of that delectable backside. “Let’s see it again.”
She turns and lifts her skirt once more, and I admire the ink up close. It’s small and tasteful, but exquisitely done. The perfect combination of artsy and edgy, beautiful and raw.
In other words, everything I love about my bride to be.
She drops her skirt again and turns back around. I pull her into my arms and slide my hands into her hair, marveling that she’s mine. That we get to go home together tonight. And the night after that, and the one after that.
I kiss her hard and deep and so fiercely that we’re both breathing hard by the time we come up for air.
“So, you like it, huh?” she says. “The tattoo?”
“Love it,” I murmur. “It’s bootylicious.”
She dissolves into giggles again, and I smooth my hands down her sides, so damn happy I could explode. “I love you, Lisa Michaels.”
“I love you, too, Dax Kensington. And I can’t wait until we’re alone together. I want to do bad things to you.”
Her words send a jolt straight to my cock, and I grip her hips a little tighter. “Well,” I say softly. “Did I ever show you the shower in this place?”
She smiles and cocks her head to one side. “I may have seen it a time or two.”
“Hmm,” I say. “Maybe you need a refresher course. A fresh introduction to the seedier side of life.”
She giggles again and nods. “Show me the way.”
“My pleasure.”
We turn and walk from the room side by side, fingers laced together in a perfect fit.
It’s exactly how we’ll be for the rest of our lives.
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