Epilogue （AUGUST）

Years later

"And when she went home," I read, slowly and softly, careful not to raise my voice too high, "Kiki's grandmother was there with a nice cup of eucalyptus tea to relax her after a long day. And Kiki was proud and happy, because she'd helped the Platypus Twins be friends with Gruffykins the Owl once again."

The only answer is a burbling sigh.

My newborn daughter—our newborn daughter—squirms in her swaddling, smacking her lips adorably in her sleep as she turns her face into the crook of her arm.

I carefully close the cover of Kiki the Koala: Mending Fences and set the book aside, lightly flexing my ankles to make the rocking chair sway a little. Giselle settles quietly at the swaying, out like a light, with one fist half in her mouth.

My sweet, perfect little goober.

My darling baby daughter, with her tiny fingers and her button nose and her little fluff of wild strawberry blonde hair, just like her mother's.

She's already as amazing as her mother too.

As I look down at our little girl sleeping so soundly, so trustingly in my arms, my heart runs the fuck over.

I'm filled with so much love I almost find myself choking back tears.

Yeah, this daddy thing does that, turning even the toughest guys into great big saps.

When I first took over Little Key, I didn't have the slightest clue what to do with children. They didn't matter to me at all beyond being a distant target demographic. Little Key was Aunt Clara's legacy, and I was just there to handle the money and legal matters.

Somehow, Elle changed everything.

She changed me.

And when my gorgeous wife gave us our daughter, I realized I've always needed this.

Being a husband and father is etched in my bones.

Being a family, as strong and wonderful as the true families we both found for ourselves when our parents couldn't be there.

Elle's steps whisper behind me as she tiptoes into the room, then drapes her arms around my neck from behind, leaning over the back of the rocking chair.

"A little young to get it, isn't she?" she whispers against my ear, soft laughter edging her voice.

I look up with a smile, turning my head to catch her lips in a familiar kiss.

"Thought I'd start her off on the right books early," I whisper back. "Think she loves Kiki the best. She knows her ma's brilliant, so she'll grow up to be just like her."

"God, let's hope not. Tripping over random strangers in airports can only work out well once. She should be less of a disaster." Elle nuzzles me. "You're so good with her, though. She falls asleep for you like a little angel. She's a demon with me."

"Because she knows you'll let her get away with being a demon. You spoil her rotten."

"Like you don't?" Elle laughs. "Look at you guys!"

"Can't help it." I sigh, looking down at Giselle. "She's so perfectly tiny. She'll never be this small again."

"Oh, you'll wish she was when she's big enough to start crawling." Elle noses my cheek. "Come to bed. Early day tomorrow. Clara's got a signing, and I promised I'd be there."

"Yeah. Let me put her down."

Elle pulls back, holding the rocking chair steady for me while I stand and move delicately toward the crib. One tiny bit at a time, I lay Giselle down in her blankets before tucking her gently and safely away.

She doesn't even stir.

She just keeps chewing on her fist in her sleep, resting there like the little cherub she is.

Elle leans over the edge of the crib with a small smile overflowing with love. "Bitey little monster. She gets that from you."

"I don't bite that much."

Elle gives me a look that drips pure sarcasm.

Then she pulls the neck of her shirt aside to show the hickey I left on her collarbone earlier.

Oops.

"I have to wear a high-necked shirt to an outdoor signing in the middle of summer thanks to you," she says mildly. "And you're telling me you don't bite that much?"

"Well, now, if you're already going to wear a high-necked shirt anyway ..."

Her eyes widen.

With a squeak, she turns to run.

Too slow.

With a growl, I chase after her.

She's trying not to laugh, trying not to wake the baby, but I can't help chuckling. It's so much easier to laugh now with her.

So much easier to be happy, to live in the moment instead of being trapped in my worries and fears.

It's so much easier to be with her.

I want to be with her as I catch her just past the threshold of the bedroom, sweep her up, tumble her down to the bed under me.

She sprawls out beneath me, her hair spilling everywhere. Elle's changed since our wedding—her hair longer, strawberry blonde tangles almost to her waist. Her body is softer and thicker and curvier from pregnancy, her breasts fuller and more luscious.

More to entice me.

More to kiss.

More to touch.

More to bite.

I groan like mad when I feel her plush flesh yielding, igniting me instantly.

"Fuck," I whisper as her heavy breasts move against me with the arch of her back. "You feel so good."

"Never thought pregnancy body would get you this hot," she teases, but her breaths are hitching, her nipples already hard against her shirt. We're always hot for each other, always needy, unable to keep our hands to ourselves. "The way you're going, you'll end up making another baby."

"Four, five, a dozen, I don't care." I rip her shirt away, stroking my hands over her breasts. I sink my fingers into their lushness as I drag the cups of her bra down feverishly and rub my cheek against that pale, curving flesh.

My beard rakes her nipple just to feel it peak, to catch that scent that tells me she's already wet for me.

"As long as I have you, Elle," I groan, sucking her nipple and clutching her ass. "As long as you're mine. As long as you love me."

"Forever," she whispers back.

Damned right.

We fit together so perfectly too.

Clothing shed, mouths locked, skin to skin, and then the perfect plunge inside her, fusing us together.

"Forever," I agree. "Forever, like the way I'll always love you."