Epilogue
CAROLINE
“Holdin’ Her” by Chris Janson
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I lower the camera and smile. It’s moments like these that make me want to pinch myself. Moments that fill my every day, giving me a life that’s so unbelievably beautiful it doesn’t ever seem real.
“Pretty sure you’ve got a million pictures just like that one, Linney love.”
I scrunch my nose at my husband, turning the camera in my hands and bringing up the image I just took on the screen. “I could have a million more, Clayton, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
He grunts out a few low chuckles. “You’re a nut.”
“Whatever, honey.”
He stands and I lean my shoulder against the doorframe to watch him. His head dips once he’s on his feet, pressing a light kiss atop our daughter’s head. Her tiny little rosebud mouth purses, but she doesn’t wake up. His eyes close, lips still pressed against her head while he takes a moment, like he always does. Never fails, he works hard all day and the first thing he does when he comes home is strip his shirt off, wash his hands, and hold our daughter to his chest until she’s asleep; then he kisses her sweetly and breathes her in.
Since before Harlow was even born, Clayton would end his day much like this, only with his mouth against my belly and our daughter kicking against his touches.
My pregnancy was the kind that women dream of. I was happy, full of energy, hungry for my husband’s touch, and hardly gained any weight. Of course, when you have a man like Clayton Davis showering you with his love, there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell you’ll feel anything other than pure bliss.
Not everything has been sunshine and rainbows. In the year since the fateful night that almost stole this from us, we’ve continued to move forward—but it was the early days when we both were frantic to erase the memories of that night that put a dark cloud over the beginning of my pregnancy.
The first thing he did was buy an RV—not just any RV either. This was the luxury of luxe, grander than some homes. And after he pulled it down the drive and parked it in the grass away from the house, he told me we were moving in—temporarily—to his deluxe home on wheels. I didn’t argue with him because I could see it in his eyes, the wild hunt for control driving him.
So we moved into the RV.
And we lived in it for almost four months while Clayton put all his responsibilities on hold so he could oversee the complete renovation of our home. I didn’t need to ask to understand why. I knew why he needed that. Even if it was to erase what Jess had done, I have a feeling he was also banishing the ghosts of his childhood as well.
The first time I saw all the hard work he poured into our home, I cried for an hour. Not only had he gutted and updated everything, he’d turned the spare bedroom closest in ours into the most heavenly nursery I’ve ever seen outside of a showroom.
The nursery had me crying for another hour.
While our house was being renovated, he also hired someone to rebuild our gazebo. This time he created a wraparound porch outside the structure with a freestanding hammock and an outdoor table. We’ve had a few dates in our spot and not once has our time out there been anything short of perfect. All the painful memories from that night are completely eradicated.
What we didn’t do though was worry about The Sequel. Not until six months ago, when I was entering my last month of pregnancy. I hadn’t been sure that I wanted to reopen my store, but in the end, Clayton helped me see past the sadness I’ve been associating with rebuilding. I think a little part of me hasn’t been sure I could reopen without continuously looking over my shoulder. I knew Jess and John were gone, but with so much of their evil being connected with the store, I had a hard time seeing past it.
Until Clayton.
Until my husband reminded me that we’ve got nothing but beautiful now.
It didn’t hurt that he reminded me while filling me with his cock and loving me slow.
“She’s out,” Clayton says softly, standing in front of me and startling me out of my thoughts.
I lean to the side and look around his delicious naked torso to see the blanket-covered bundle in the middle of the dark gray crib. When I straighten and blink up at Clayton, nervous flutters start to fill my belly when his smile grows.
“You got somethin’ for me?” he questions, smiling.
“Maybe,” I hedge, a nervous giggle breaking free.
He tilts his head and studies me.
“Come on, honey,” I request, placing the camera on top of Harlow’s dresser and taking his hand in mine. He follows as I pull him from our daughter’s doorway and into our room. I drop his hand when we reach the middle of our room and turn to him. My eyes roam from his chiseled chest, over his defined abs, and down his denim-covered legs to his bare feet. I take a deep breath and smile at the floor before looking up at my husband.
“Strip, handsome.”
His eyebrows shoot up, but he brings his hands to his buckle without questioning me, making quick work of shucking his pants and briefs, standing to his full height in all his naked glory.
With a wink, I reach down and pull my sundress up and over my head. My breasts bounce free, reminding me that they’ve taken on a life of their own since having Harlow. Clayton’s eyes burn as he looks down at them. He’s made it no secret that he loves the changes our daughter brought to my body—especially my breasts. Anytime they’re out, he’s licking his lips and staring, and with a breastfeeding four-month-old, they’re out often.
“On the bed.”
Silently, he walks around me, not without reaching out and grazing my thigh with his fingertips. He climbs into our bed, right in the middle, and lies down with his arms up and hands behind his head.
I climb up on the bed and shuffle my knees forward until they’re pressed against his hip. He watches me intently with his emerald gaze, his erection bobbing when my eyes look down at it. When I lick my lips, he groans.
As much as I’d love to sit here and drink him in, I need to feel him. Shifting, I climb over him, spreading my legs and sitting back on his knees. His eyes look down his body and straight between my legs, his nostrils flaring wildly. My hands go to his thighs and I start moving them, caressing him slowly while leaning forward until his cock is right at my mouth. My tongue comes out and licks him. He hisses but doesn’t move. God, I love the taste of him. Opening my mouth wide, I take him as deep as I can and lift one hand up to work his shaft while flicking his the head of his dick with my tongue. I hum when I taste his salty essence, moving my other hand down and between my legs. I don’t take my eyes off his, wanting him to see the pleasure I get from using my mouth on him. I also know what he looks like when he’s about to come, and right now, as much as I love it, I want him inside me when he does.
Removing my mouth with a loud pop, I start to crawl up his body.
“I’ve been waitin’ all day to give you my bad, Clayton Davis.” I place my hands next to his head and lean down, placing my mouth close enough to his to feel his hot breath as he pants. My pussy glides against his erection, making me moan. “You’re goin’ to sit there and let me give that to you. You’re goin’ to keep your back on the bed and let me take everything. I want to feel you, so deep, Clayton.”
“Fuck yes,” he hisses.
“You gonna sit there and let me give you my bad while I love my husband?”
“Baby,” he breathes.
I lift my hips, moving one hand to his abs, the other wrapping around his thickness, moving my body until he’s kissing my entrance. I swirl the blunt tip around my wetness, moaning when he hits my clit. My head rolls while my body burns with need. Then I stop my hand and drop my hips, impaling myself on him. He shouts a deep grunt that turns into a low moan when I roll my hips again. We don’t look away from each other as I begin to move, both our mouths open. Our heavy breathing fills the room. He lets me drive as I take his body, using my legs to pull my hips up and drop down. Each time he hits that sweet spot deep inside of me, I feel myself growing wetter and wetter. I won’t last much longer.
Feeling it build, my body trembles. “Help me,” I beg, moaning when he takes my hips in his strong hands and starts lifting me, pulling me down, and thrusting up from the bottom. My cries turn wild when he quickens the pace. “I’m goin’ to come, honey,” I breathe, my vision getting hazy as fireworks start to explode behind my eyes. I clamp down on him and cry his name out, his own groan of completion echoing around us.
I fall to his chest, sucking in air as my body comes back to earth. His heart thumps wildly against my cheek and I smile.
“I would’ve put money on us makin’ another baby just now, but . . . seein’ that you took care of that weeks ago, I’ll just enjoy the practice.”
He jolts under me, the hands that had been roaming my back stopping, and I lift up to look at him. His eyes are wide, happy, and wet.
“You tellin’ me my baby is growin’ in there?”
“Yeah honey,” I sigh, tears slowly cascading down my face and landing on his chest.
“You tellin’ me I’m goin’ to get more beauty from you?”
I sniffle and nod.
“Linney, love,” he breathes, kissing me deep and quick.
“Are you happy?” I ask, knowing he is, but still worried about my handsome husband.
“God, yes.”
“Good, honey. I am too. So happy. Tate did a scan and said everything looks perfect.”
He frowns slightly. “Tate? Darlin’, how long have you known you were carryin’ my baby?”
I shift, making both of us groan from the connection we haven’t broken. “A few weeks. I didn’t . . . I, well, I wasn’t sure if it was a good time to tell you before now.”
His face gets soft and I know I don’t need to clarify. Three weeks ago, the day I found out I was pregnant again, Clayton took a call from his brother, and after he said hello, he didn’t speak again. Not during that call, or for hours and hours after. He ended his call, placed his phone on the counter, and walked out the back door. It wasn’t until four in the morning that he came back. I listened from our bed while he moved through the house, seeing his shadow enter Harlow’s room before coming into ours with her in his arms. He got into bed, made sure our girl was situated, and reached over to pull me into his chest.
With my daughter’s face close to mine, the heart of the most important man in both of our lives beating under us, he told me that his mother had passed away. I kept my mouth shut but tightened my arm over his body. He didn’t say anything else about it, just kissed my head, then Harlow’s, before all three of us went to sleep.
And until today, I hadn’t been sure how to tell him that I was pregnant because I wasn’t sure if he was handling his feelings over his mama.
“I understand why you didn’t tell me, but darlin’, you don’t need to worry. I didn’t have her in my life for a long time. I don’t miss her, haven’t in a long time.”
“You haven’t talked about it though, Clayton. I’ve been so worried about where your head’s been that I wasn’t sure if it was a good time to tell you about the baby.”
He tightens his hold on me, and his lips form a tiny smile. “I let her go that night. I left because I didn’t want her—even the thought of her—in our home with our daughter. The only thing I could think of, even now, is how anyone could walk away from their children. When I think of Harlow, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. I’d die for her—you—and any children we have. When I think of my mama now, the only thing that goes through my mind is how thankful I am that, because of her inability to love her children, I know I’ll never be what she was. She didn’t have what it took to cowboy up and live each day for someone else. But I do.”
“I’ve been so worried.”
“I know, darlin’, but I wasn’t keepin’ it from you. I meant what I said: she doesn’t have a place under this roof.”
I nod, understanding what he’s saying. “Okay.”
“Okay.” His smile grows, teeth flashing, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You, Caroline Davis, are the best thing that happened to me.”
I rock my hips, my happiness mirroring his. “Ditto, honey, ditto.”
His hands move from my hips to my lower belly. “Just when I think I couldn’t love you more, you go and give me more beauty. Give me your mouth, baby, and let me love you slow this time so I can show you how much you givin’ me another baby means to me.”
I squeal as he flips us and moan when he starts slowly gliding his hard length in and out of my body. He takes his sweet time, not breaking the steady rhythm he’s built. His eyes hold mine and his lips part only a breath above mine. I’m surrounded by and filled with the man that owns me—heart and soul—as he loves me slow and steady. My heart pounds against my chest, calling out to his, and with his name leaving my lips on a whisper, I tumble over the edge. Clayton follows me not even a minute later, turning our bodies, keeping us connected, and wrapping his strong arms around me.
“Never dreamed that this existed. You fill me with so much, darlin’, that a lifetime will never be enough for me to repay that.”
“Far as I can tell, honey, it’s me who gets filled to the brim. I reckon if we both keep tryin’ to repay the other, there won’t be a day that passes where we aren’t ridin’ high.”
“I’ll love you forever and always, Linney.”
“And I’ll be lovin’ you right back forever and always, Clayton.”
- -
Fifteen years later
High on the hill located on the back end of Clayton and Caroline Davis’s property, there isn’t a face without a smile on it. The painful memories that used to haunt the three Davis children are a distant memory. Each in the arms of his or her spouse looks down from the gazebo that’s stood through six tornados over the years and only grown since the eldest Davis realized just how important this spot had become not just to his wife, but to his family, as their children run, laugh, and love. There hasn’t been a day that happiness didn’t sound from the Davis property for the past fifteen years.
Clayton Davis looks from his two daughters over to his son, wrapping his arms a little tighter around his wife, knowing that without her, he wouldn’t have this wonderful life. Glancing over his wife’s head, Clayton takes a second to appreciate the same contentment-induced happiness on his brother’s face.
Maverick, not having missed the attention of his brother, turns to meets his gaze. Gone are the hard lines and stoic disposition. His wife made it impossible for him to keep his old flinty edge throughout the years. But it was with the birth of each of his children that whatever pain he had left inside of him vanished. With a year separating each of his four daughters, something inside of him changed forever, but it was when his son was placed in his arms that Maverick Davis finally found out what it was like to have the world. There are days when he wakes, the house still silent, and he’s slammed with just how lucky he truly is. His heart swelling, his wife pressed tight to his side, and his house full of the children his wife blessed him with. Seeing what he feels on those days in his older brother’s gaze, he smiles even wider.
Both the Davis boys look to their left and down at their baby sister tucked tight to her husband’s side. Her youngest son leans into his mother with his hand wrapped around her belt loop and her hand rubbing his raven-black hair. It was a long road for Quinn Montgomery and her husband to have the last of their four boys. She struggled through two miscarriages but never gave up, knowing that they weren’t whole. It was during those days that Quinn got quiet and her smiles came less and less. When her husband delivered their last baby almost six years ago, she changed. Holding their miracle in her arms, Quinn had laughed so loud that her family heard her outside of her birthing room, her laughter sparking something in each of them that well and truly made them realize how far they had all come.
And that’s how Clayton and Caroline, Maverick and Leighton, and Quinn and Tate . . . came home.