Epilogue

“Are you sure about this?” Seth asked as he and Devereaux stopped short of the front door to Jordie’s World of Ink.

Despite the fact that this was to be their final day in Florida, the girl was all smiles. The moving truck sat loaded at her curb, ready to take them to Virginia come morning. For one last night, Scottie was sleeping over at Trish’s. Cord had turned into a very busy man now that he’d moved his business to Drunken Sailor Island.

Uncle George wouldn’t mind, in fact, Seth knew his uncle would want the work he’d begun to continue. After all, it was his little speck-of-dirt island where he’d arranged Cord’s usual landing place for his rescued ladies and children. It only seemed fair that the island Gru and George loved remained active duty. Yeah. George would want it that way.

Even now, Uncle George was learning to walk again, and Seth’s father and his doctors were impressed. He might never talk again, but it seemed George had an extra-large serving of that cocky, ‘I’m a Marine. Get the hell out of my way!’ attitude of Cord’s.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Devereaux answered, a mischievous smile tweaking the corners of her sexy mouth. Her breast had healed from the inside out after her outpatient plastic surgery, and romance was in the air. Just this morning she’d been to Victoria’s Secret. And if he knew Devereaux, she couldn’t wait to show him. Tonight was the night. Seth just didn’t want to ruin it by putting another woman’s face inside the empty heart on his arm. It didn’t feel right. At all.

“Come on in, worrywart,” she cajoled as she tugged him into the tattoo parlor. “You’ll survive a few needles.”

“I know, but…” Still. One stupid decision could derail the most precious thing in his life.

Three young girls sat at the first station, their eyes wide as the tattoo artist, a shaggy-haired college-aged kid applied a healthy smear of Aquaphor^® Healing Ointment over the artwork on the middle girl’s upper thigh. A butterfly. Of course. At least it wasn’t a tramp stamp that screamed, ‘I’m easy. Come get some!’

“Hi, Jordie!” Devereaux called to the overweight, dark-haired man in denim and a t-shirt that declared: INK is FOREVER, at the rear of the shop. The lettering was a fine example of scrollwork that almost made a believer out of Seth. Almost. He wasn’t one of those guys who needed his body adorned with any more ink than what would darken it today. This was it. The end.

“Hey, Dev,” Jordie answered. “Haven’t seen you since Cord got that Navy Cross. What’s your brother been up to lately?”

“Cord received the Navy Cross?” Seth hissed, impressed as hell. “Why didn’t you tell me?” If I’d known that, I might’ve been nicer to him. Once or twice.

The Navy’s highest award for extreme valor in combat, the Cross singled out very few in the ranks for acts of extraordinary heroism.

“Not that Navy Cross,” Devereaux muttered. “Cord’s is in ink on his chest, not in real life.”

“Oh. Okay.” That made sense, not that he was jealous of Cord getting the Navy Cross or anything, but the Cross had one hellacious coordination process that normally took years from the initial recommendation to the final presentation by the Secretary of the Navy. Not to mention that receiving the Navy Cross was a substantially big deal.

“That’s too bad,” he said under his breath. “Cord’s a stand-up guy. He deserves something for all he’s done since he left the Corps.”

Devereaux shrugged. “He could care less about medals. You know how it is.”

Seth did. Military service men and women didn’t see their heroism in the same light civilians did. Every one of those medals was just another reminder of those who’d borne the ultimate cost of combat and who hadn’t come home.

Jordie beckoned him to take a seat and asked, “Whatcha got in mind?”

“He wants his fiancée’s face inked into the heart already on his bicep,” Devereaux said brightly. “Can you do that for him?”

“Sure,” Jordie muttered, his brows furrowed, and his nose wrinkled as he tugged Seth’s bared arm beneath the bright lamp at his workstation. “Got a picture of her?”

“I do.” Seth drew his wallet out of his back pocket and tugged a two by three photograph out its plastic sleeve. But to Devereaux he said, “Why don’t you go shop for a while? Buy something pretty to wear tonight.”

She cocked her head at him, the sweeter than sweet pixie smile shining bright in her eyes once more. “I’ve already done that.”

“Well, do it again.”

“Are you sure?”

He waved his fingers at her. “Go on, shoo. We’ll swing by Molly’s when we’re done and get some of those pancakes you love.”

She winked. “I won’t be long.”

“Take all the time you need,” Jordie said. “This’ll take a while.”

The moment she trotted out the door, Seth leaned over the desk and told Jordie, “Not that picture. Here. This is the face I want on my arm.”

Later that night, Seth kicked in Devereaux’s front door. He had to. His hands were full of one intoxicated lady who’d been mauling him the whole drive home. He’d barely turned the key in the lock when she’d attacked him again, tugging his t-shirt over his head, jerking at his pants zipper, and all but undressing him on her front step.

They weren’t yet inside when she climbed up his body and clamped those long legs of hers around his hips and sucked his neck like a vampire. A really pretty vampire. “Now, Seth,” she ground out, her teeth nipping at his jaw, her nails scraping over his shoulders as she hung on.

“I’d rather do this in bed,” he mumbled, licking her lips that tasted of Bud Lite.

Who knew two beers could do this? Although, now that he thought about it, she was a tiny, petite little thing. Probably shouldn’t have had that tequila chaser, either. She’d regret those drinks come morning.

“Ah, come on,” she whined, thrusting her hips into his belly.

“Shhh,” he told her as he made his way down the hall to her room, sans lights. “Almost there. Then I want you naked and ready, understood?”

“Ah-huh,” she breathed against his neck, heating him up.

Setting her to her feet, he told her, “Strip.”

Quick as a perky little bunny, Devereaux was out of her pants and shirt, and on her hands and knees in the middle of the bed. “Like this?” she teased, facing him but waving her delectable backside. What a delicious sight she was, from her lacy, new, red satin bra to the matching thong. But best of all, she was his.

Tossing his clothes to the floor in a hurry, Seth eased onto the bed behind her. Ah, yes. This was what he’d been waiting for all day, her on her knees, wet, wanton, and waiting. The sexy panties hit the floor, but he left her bra where it was to support her still healing breast. Impatient now, he buried himself in her to the hilt with one slick thrust, angling her hips for deeper penetration, but mostly, just to hear her moan, wiggle her backside, and beg for, “More, Seth. More.”

That he could do. Devereaux was a light touch when it came to drinking and things of the heart, so he took their lovemaking slow and easy, intent on her reaching her point of maximum satisfaction first. Little did she know this entire day had been all about her. Since last night, when he’d asked Trish to take Scottie for one last sleepover, to eating Devereaux’s favorite pancakes at Molly’s after dark today, Seth had planned for this moment. But now he wished she’d had orange juice with those blueberry pancakes instead of beer.

“More, more,” she groaned as her ass met his every move.

“Easy,” he murmured, still intent on protecting that delicate breast from them getting rowdy too soon. Still intent on protecting Devereaux in all ways. This very intimate act they shared was only part of their upcoming life together. Little did she know…

Too quickly, her body stiffened, and this was what he’d been waiting for. “Ah, Seth,” she ground out, her voice throaty. “Yes. Right there. Yes, yes!”

Pushing forward, he matched her release with his own, grinding his hips into her soft backside, matching his steel to her sheath, and joining Devereaux in the most pleasurable miracle between a man and a woman.

Sated and breathing hard, she dropped her cheek to the sheet, her butt still lifted and his hands hot and sweaty on her hips. He hadn’t turned the lights off, and the visual of her willing offering never failed to arouse him all over again.

But she wasn’t in the condition for all night sex, not as drunk as she was, and Seth wasn’t a user. He’d given her what she wanted and needed for the moment. “I love you, baby,” he told her, still holding onto her one hip while he tiptoed his fingers up her spine, just to watch her shiver.

Wiggling against him, she not only shivered but she growled, too. “I never knew it could be like this.”

“Like what?” he asked as he gave her one last thrust while he willed his horny body to stand down.

“Like this.” Another enticing wiggle. “You never let me down, Seth. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re always here for me.”

“I wish I could always be here,” he teased, bumping her backside with his hips before he eased out and away from her. “Hold that pose. I’ll be right back.”

“Ah-huh,” she mumbled into the sheets.

Seth hurried to the bathroom off the hall, cleaning himself before he soaked a washcloth in warm water and hustled back to his lady. She’d rolled to her side by then, growing drowsier by the minute. Seth knelt on the bed at her side, loving this final act of caring for his woman.

After he cleaned her, he dropped the cloth to the side of the bed and lay facing her. “Hey, sleepy,” he whispered, tapping his index finger gently to the tip of her nose. “Are you too tired for a surprise? Maybe two?” Maybe three?

Since her ordeal with Bagani and Khadeem, Seth had come to know quite a bit about Devereaux Shepherd. This woman might be tiny in stature, but her heart was as deep as the ocean, most likely because she gave parts of it away so freely. It all came back to the laws of the universe. What a person sowed, they also reaped, and she’d definitely sown seeds of love wherever she went. Those were what had made her heart so incredibly deep and full. The universe just kept giving back.

Right or wrong, she loved fiercely and freely, which explained the ease with which her brother had used her. Unintentionally, she’d set herself up for that perfect storm, and, like any man on a mission, Cord had simply accepted her generosity because it was there when he’d needed it. It had served both of their purposes, her need to give and his need to provide safe harbor for the women he’d rescued. Neither realized how much those acts of kindness had drained Devereaux, and even today, Seth knew she’d do it all again. That was just the way she was, but it was also what made her vulnerable. That gentle, giving heart of hers.

“Want your surprise now, or should I save it for morning?” he asked, as he ran his fingers over her head and through her short hair, ruffling the silvery blonde strands that he loved.

Her eyes came open to reveal two dreaming pools of blue. “I like surprises.”

“Well good, because you’re looking at one of them, well, two of them if you look close.”

“I am?” She blinked as she pushed up onto one elbow. Those pretty ocean blues scrolled over his bare body, settling below his belly. Her brows arced with mischief. “I really like that surprise.”

“Not that,” he teased, winking at her salacious grin. “Look higher. Come on. You might have to get up on your knees to see it, so move it.”

Devereaux scrambled up, looking over his shoulder to the nightstand, then beyond into the hall. Holding onto his left bicep, she tilted over his side and glanced at the floor.

Irresistible, that was what she was, and Seth couldn’t help but cup her bare butt when she leaned over him. “You’re hot, baby. Not just getting warmer, but hot.” In fact, she was touching her first surprise.

“Hmmm, I don’t see anything,” she said, her lips pinched in a pout. “Are you teasing me?” Her fingers smoothed over his bicep, stinging the newly inked tattoo that seriously needed another dose of healing ointment.

Seth cringed. Not wanting to draw attention to the new design, he’d held off with the ointment, so it wouldn’t stain his t-shirt while it kept the tat covered. That Devereaux hadn’t yet asked to see it told him everything he’d already suspected. Yes, she was all for him remembering Katelynn, just not in the same heart with his mother. Little did she know…

“Oh,” she yipped, her fingers much gentler on his bicep. Then, softer, “Oh, Seth. You didn’t,” she murmured as she looked at the heart where her pretty face now smiled. “You put me in your heart. Aww…”

He pulled her against his chest. “I sure did.”

“It’s beautiful,” she whimpered, tears brimming those sexy blues as she studied his new tat.

“Of course, it’s you,” he teased. “You’re the only woman I wanted in this empty heart of mine. Only you, Devereaux.”

“B-but Katelynn. You loved her. I know you did.”

“Did, baby. Did. Check out my left calf.”

Another, “Oh, Seth. You didn’t.” Devereaux whimpered, her fingers covering her lips. “Why’d you put her on the back of your leg?”

“Because Katelynn’s part of my past. She’s part of our past, and she’s behind us. Yes, I loved her then, but I love you now. You’re my future. No one else.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she murmured. “I know you loved her, but yeah, you’re right. I was a little confused when I left you this morning. Maybe a little jealous, too.”

Didn’t that make his heart swell? No one had ever been jealous over Seth McCray before. If anything, he’d been a wallflower and a fixture since Katelynn’s death. A—ghost.

Son-of-a-bitch. Seth’s heart pounded as years of truth hit home. No wonder Latoya hadn’t let go of him. It wasn’t that she’d refused to leave him all these years. It was him. He’d been holding onto her. Holding her back. Not the other way around. Somehow in his crazy traumatized brain, her death had mingled with Katelynn’s into one desperate need. Letting go of Latoya had translated into losing Katelynn. Only she was already gone. And now, it was Latoya’s turn.

Seth thought what he should’ve said years ago, ‘Goodbye, Latoya Franklin. I’m sorry we met like we did, but thanks to you, a whole lot of kids are going to keep getting new shoes. I’m naming the foundation after you. Latoya’s kids. I think you would’ve liked that. Rest easy, sweetheart.’

He squeezed his eyes shut, so damned thankful for truth and enlightenment. For pixie dust. At last. Seth McCray was ready to fly.

“I’ve been a little confused, too,” he admitted as he scrambled to his knees and reached into his nightstand drawer. “But I’m not any longer.” Because I’m free. “Hold on. I’ve got one last surprise.”

“Sheesh, I don’t have anything to give you.” By now, Devereaux sat on her haunches in the middle of the bed. The sight of her sweet naked body reminded him of Eve in the Garden of Eden, only Eve had never looked this sexy. Seth was smitten again. Smitten. Claimed. Owned. All of the above. He was Devereaux’s man, now and forever.

Placing the velvet blue ring box between them on the bed, he told her, “This is for you,” but he thought, ‘Please say yes.’

“Oh, my,” she whispered, blinking at the box like a deer caught in headlights.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his heart a freight train pounding down the tracks. He couldn’t go on living with her without marrying her. He wasn’t made that way, and neither was she. Devereaux needed the legal security of marriage. So did Scottie.

Lifting the box between them, her eyes filled.

Seth swallowed hard. That could be a good sign. That could be a bad sign. He held his breath. It was now or never. Please say yes.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, not making eye contact.

Oh, damn. Maybe this was too soon. Maybe he was wrong. God knew that happened often enough. Coughing politely, he gave her a way out even as his heart broke around the edges. “You don’t have to answer right away.” But I wish you would. “Sleep on it. You can give me your answer in the morn—”

“Are you nuts?” She lurched off her knees and into his arms, the ring box tight in her hand. “Yes, Seth. Oh, God…” Cue the tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you and I’ll cook for you and I’ll—”

Covering her lips with his mouth, he swallowed all those wifely promises. They could negotiate roles and responsibilities later, but now… “I love you, Devereaux,” he vowed with every sinew of his once battered, mixed up heart. “Marry me and I’ll make you the happiest woman on Earth. You and Scottie will never want for anything. I swear.”

Devereaux always gave as good as she got, even now. She straddled his lap, her knees alongside his thighs and her core pressed tight against his cock. Right where she belonged, peppering his chin and cheeks with kisses, her long slender fingers holding his head as if she would never let him go. “I love you,” she said between each fervent, moist kiss to his face, nose, and lips until his heart filled to overflowing.

He knew it then. No man had ever been as treasured as he was. It just wasn’t possible.

Rolling onto the bed, he took her with him, her bare breasts to his chest as she straddled him again. This was what he’d been searching for all those lonely years. This connection. This one woman. This brave firecracker who led with a heart full of her private brand of pixie dust—love.

“Mrs. Seth McCray,” he murmured as his hands skimmed over her shoulder blades to her warm, bare ass. “Hmmm, I like the sound of that.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Seth McCray,” she corrected, her fingers dancing over his belly to parts already fired up below. “I like the sound of that better.”

“So do I,” he whispered, his body ramping up for one more time.

It was oddly comforting that she hadn’t yet opened that ring box. She didn’t yet have a clue what was inside. She hadn’t ‘Oooed’ and ‘Ahhed’ or displayed the two-carat diamond on her ring finger like most women would have by now. Neither had she asked how much he’d spent or if he’d insured the ring, a roundabout way of determining its value. She hadn’t even called Trish to tell her all the latest.

She. Just. Said. Yes.

 

The End