Epilogue—Jay
Epilogue
JayFive Years Later...
"Come here." Jordan pulls me further into him, like there was much space to begin with between us. He's probably not going to let me far from him. I might have dressed up a little. Wearing a low-cut dress that hugs tight to my body but flares out at my hips. I even put on some makeup and left my hair down. I'm not going to lie. I didn't dress up because I was itching to. I did it to get Jordan worked up. I love when he gets extra possessive of me. It turns me on and tonight we don't have any kids when we get home so we can be as loud and wild as we want.
We have the night out. Pops pretty much kidnapped our two girls. They were more than excited to go. Sometimes it's even a fight to get them to leave his house after our Sunday dinners. They love it over there because he spoils them rotten. Pops can't go more than a few days without seeing them and the days he doesn't get to, he's FaceTiming them at night and reading them a book.
It could be two in the morning and they want pancakes and he's out of bed making them for them. As much as I roll my eyes about it I really love it. I even know Summer is going over there to cookout with them. I love this little family we have made and how my sister is a part of it. Our parents still don't really have much contact with us. They haven't ever even asked to come out and meet their grandchildren.
"How did you know I wanted Italian?" I ask him as he pulls me into the restaurant. His arm locked around me.
"When don't you want Italian?" he asks. It's the truth. I became addicted to it with my first pregnancy and the addiction never stopped. Sometimes I even ate it for breakfast.
"Two," Jordan tells the hostess. Then leans in, kissing me under the ear as she grabs the menus. We follow her to a table in the back. Jordan pulls my chair out for me.
The waitress comes over. I notice she keeps her eyes on Jordan, paying me no mind whatsoever. "Two dry white wines and a bruschetta to start," Jordan says before she can even really talk, not taking his eye off the menu.
"Okay," the waitress says a little tartly but she doesn't move from the table.
"Little bird, I think you'll like the stuffed chicken or maybe the angel hair tossed in oil," he tells me, still studying the menu. Anytime we go out the first thing he's looking for on the menu is what I'll like.
"Give us a minute," I say to the waitress, who's still standing there staring at Jordan. I feel my anger start to grow. I know my Jordan would never give another woman the time of day. Even one that looks as pretty as this one but still I don't like how she's eyeing him.
He looks up as if just now noticing the waitress was still standing there. "Can you put in what I already ordered please. My wife is hungry," he says, dismissing her before going back to the menu.
"Maybe I should just order you both. We can take the extra home with us." He looks up at me and reaches across the table, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. "Can't wait to have you in our bed with no worries of little ones climbing in. Miss you sleeping naked on top of me." I agree with him but I wouldn't change it for the world. Our girls are everything to us.
At the word "home" my stomach warms because that sounds nice—and not because of the women checking out my husband, but because lying in bed with to-go boxes and being alone for the night sounds wonderful. But I know Jordan wanted to take me out on a date night.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom. Order for me," I tell him. Jordan stands before I can, pulling my chair out for me. He grabs me, taking me into a hard, long kiss. I get lost in him for a moment. "Jordan." I half gasp his name when he finally releases my mouth and I remember that we are in the middle of a busy restaurant.
"Just making sure everyone knows you belong to me before I let you leave my side." I roll my eyes at him but I can't stop my smile. I walk to the bathroom and see the waitress that's been eyeing Jordon watching us. I give her a smug smile. Look all you want but that man is more than mine. I don't even have to worry about you.
I slip in the bathroom and check my lipstick before washing my hands. I look in my purse for my phone, making sure Pops hasn't called before slipping out of the bathroom. When I open the door I see a very pissed-off Jordan standing there. The same waitress from before staring at him with a panicked face.
"No, what you're going to do is step back from me." Jordan's eyes come to me. "Then you're going to say sorry to this woman I'm with who is clearly my wife or I'll be talking to your manager."
The woman looks over at me and stutters out a "sorry" before rushing away.
"I'm so sorry, little bird. I had no idea she'd follow me back here then hit on me." He grabs me, pulling me into his body. His hands cup my face before his mouth lands on mine in a deep but soft kiss.
"Why were you even back here?" I ask. The men's restroom is on the other side. A sheepish look hits his face.
"Just checking on you," he finally says. I can't help but laugh. I was gone maybe three minutes. "You wanna go home? Order takeout and eat in bed?"
"There's nothing more in the world I want to do than that," I tell him before taking his mouth in a kiss this time.
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