Epilogue

Logan

Five years later.

The sound of laughter rang through our home and I walked toward the source of the noise, shucking my coat as I did. My nose was colder than a witch’s tit. It was snowing out there, and there was supposed to be a storm over the weekend.

“Dad’s home!” I called out as I entered the living room.

Summer hopped off her grandmother’s lap and ran toward me, grinning from ear to ear. “Daddy!” She threw herself into my arms and I lifted her and swung her in a circle. She giggled all the way through, and I plopped her back on her feet again on the rug. “How was your day?”

“It’s better now that I’m home,” I said and pinched her chubby little cheek. “Evening, Anna.” I waved at Katie’s mom, who’d basically become a fixture in our home, and grinned. “What are you two ladies up to?”

“We’re reading one of Katie’s books,” Anna said and lifted it.

The Little Train That Went A-Choo.

After she’d given birth to our little Summer, she’d started planning a series of children’s books, and hadn’t quit until she’d found herself an agent and a publisher. Now, Anna made a habit of reading them to Summer whenever she came over to visit.

“That looks like fun,” I said. “Are you staying for the weekend, Anna? We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we, Summer?”

“Yes, please stay Gramma! Please? Butchie can sleep with me in my bed.”

The dog, who’d taken up a position on the rug to doze, cracked an eyelid and whacked his tail back and forth in apparent approval of the notion.

“Of course I’ll stay. This is my favorite place to be,” Anna replied, then patted her knee for the little one to join her again. “Come on, we’ve got to finish reading this before dinner!”

Summer flung her arms up toward me, and I bent and accepted her tight hug and a big smooch on the cheek before she raced off to her grandmother again and settled onto her lap, pulling her skirt down over her leggings.

“Where’s Katie?” I asked.

“In the kitchen, whipping up some stew for dinner.”

“I love stew,” Summer said. “Stew’s my favorite.”

I laughed and walked through our living room, past the fire crackling in its grate and casting a warm light over the paneled walls, and into the hall.

The clink of cutlery and a tune floated toward me from the open archway which led into the kitchen. I halted in it and rested my forearm against the jamb, admiring my gorgeous woman. My Katie.

She swayed from side to side in time to the beat, her ass just as exquisite and peachy as it’d always been, trapped beneath her blue jeans. She hummed along with the music and placed a fork next to the plate she’d just set down, her hair done up in a messy bun, strands escaping.

Katie had hair like no other woman. It had a will of its own. Some mornings she’d wake up beside me with it smooth and silky; others, frizzed out. Each day started with her flawless, either way.

I crept toward her, already aching for this woman. Christ, she was everything to me. We’d faced our challenges together. Yes, we’d had our arguments. But every day with her was my own personal version of paradise.

Katie wiggled and bopped to the music, and I grabbed her ass and squeezed.

She yelped and spun around, brandishing a butter knife.

“Hey,” I said and raised my hands. “No need to get violent. I was just trying to cop a feel before dinner.”

“You joke, but I cut my way out of bindings with one of these,” she said and dropped it onto the kitchen table. She slung her arms around my neck, and I kissed her, gently. “Hi,” she whispered. “How was work?”

“I want to say fine, but I spent all day thinking about you, about being here with my family instead.”

“You did?”

“You know I did,” I replied. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. It’s Summer’s sixth birthday next week. And she’s going to big school soon. So yeah, I’m going to hand over the reins to Gerald and take an advisory role from now on. It will leave me more time to be here with you guys.”

“Baby, that’s fantastic,” Katie said, and kissed me again, bathing me in that coconut scent I so fucking adored. “Are you sure, though? You love what you do.”

“I love you two more than that.”

“Honey,” she said, and trailed her hands down my chest, to my belt buckle.

“Easy.” I winked at her. “If you’re not careful we won’t make it through dinner. I hear it’s stew. You know how much I love your stew.”

“You’re just saying that because you taught me how to make it,” she said, and laughed, then whacked me on the butt. She tried to pull away, but I held her fast.

“I’ve got something else to ask you, too,” I said. “Now, I know we planned on taking it slow. Moving in together probably wasn’t the best way to achieve that, ha, but I gotta tell you, honey, I’m getting tired of waiting.”

“What are you talking about?” Katie asked, tilting her head to one side, a frown starting up on that usually smooth brow.

“Marry me,” I said. “Properly this time. No blackouts. No cheesy fake gold rings. No technicolor coat.”

“Aw, shoot, I would have loved all of that.” She bit her lip and searched my face by the overhead lights in our kitchen. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious.” I reached into my pocket and brought out the velvet box, snapped it open, and showed her the engagement ring. Princess cut, shimmering, and perfect for her finger. I made to drop to one knee but she stopped me.

Katie shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Fuck, did I mess it up?” I asked. “Are you not ready for this?”

“Ready?” She laughed and put out her hand. “I’ve never been more ready in my entire life. And I’m glad we waited for this. I’m glad we made sure that we were good for each other and for Summer before we did it. I love you so much, baby.”

I slipped the ring onto her finger. My bride’s finger, and drew her close. “Forever.”