Epilogue

epilogue

?. . .?

One year later

Ava

The bell above the bookshop door jingles cheerfully as Ryan pushes it open, his strong frame filling the entryway. My heart flutters at the sight of my husband, as it does every day when he arrives for our lunch date.

"Hey beautiful," he greets me, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. His electric blue eyes rake over my curves appreciatively as he strides over to me.

"Hi handsome," I reply shyly, a blush heating my cheeks. Even after a year of marriage, Ryan still makes me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with his intense gaze and commanding presence.

And holy fuck, does he look hot in his policeman uniform. Seriously, I never thought I was one of those girls who swooned at men in uniform, but my husband in his uniform is enough to get me dripping wet every time.

He reaches me and pulls me into his strong arms, enveloping me in his warm, musky scent. I melt into his embrace, relishing the feel of his hard body pressed against my soft one. His large hand slides possessively over the curve of my bottom.

"Missed you, baby," he murmurs huskily, nuzzling into my neck and placing a hot kiss just below my ear. "Been thinking about you all morning."

I shiver, desire pooling low in my belly at his words. "I missed you too," I breathe, tilting my head to give him better access. "I'm so glad you're here."

Ryan runs his hands up my sides, thumbs brushing the sides of my full breasts and making me gasp. He chuckles lowly, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"Let's eat lunch quickly so I can spend more time showing you just how much I missed you," he suggests wickedly, eyes darkening with lust.

I nod eagerly, biting my lip. My body is already thrumming with need for him. After all this time, I still can't get enough. With a final squeeze, Ryan releases me and I lead him to the counter, our lunches and some private time together awaiting us. I'm so grateful he gave up his stressful city job to be here with me, the sheriff of our quaint little town. I don't know what I'd do without our stolen moments together in my bookshop every day.

We eat quickly, exchanging heated glances and playful banter as we go. I can't wait for him to touch me again, to feel his strong hands on my swollen belly, to hear the filthy things he whispers in my ear. I've come to crave them, crave him, more than I ever thought possible.

As soon as we've finished our sandwiches, Ryan stands, the bulge in his pants evident. He steps closer, circling an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. "I can't wait any longer," he growls, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.

"Neither can I," I confess with a shy smile. My insides liquify as he lifts me onto the counter, spreading my legs wide. He's always so considerate, even now that my stomach is round with our child.

"I can't believe we're having a little human together," he marvels, running a hand over my belly. "A constant reminder of how much you're mine."

His words send a shiver through me, and I moan as he slides a finger inside me, brushing against my swollen nub. "Ryan," I gasp, arching my back. I'm already on edge, aching for more.

"You like that, don't you, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice a low rumble in my ear.

"I...I do." I can hardly think straight with his skilled fingers teasing me.

"Tell me what you want," he growls, nipping my neck.

My whole body flushes.

"I want you," I whimper, my face flushing.

"You want me to come inside your wet pussy?" His fingers pick up the pace, and I'm already teetering on the edge.

"Y-yes, Ryan!" I cry out as my orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave of pleasure washing over me.

"That's my good girl," he praises, kissing me hard, his tongue invading my mouth as he devours me. I'm a puddle by the time he pulls away, but he's not done with me yet.

Flipping the sign to 'Closed', he scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the back of the store. There, he lays me down on a pile of plush blankets we laid there just for this purpose.

"Spread your legs for me, Ava ." His voice is rough with desire, and I obediently comply.

"I love you, Ryan," I whimper, my eyes heavy with lust as he positions himself at my entrance.

"I love you too, Ava," he says, his voice possessive as he thrusts into me, filling me completely. "Forever and always."

I moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer as we lose ourselves in each other, our bodies moving in perfect harmony.

Ryan places his hand protectively on my swollen belly as he continues to saw in and out of me.

"You're so fucking gorgeous like this," Ryan growls, his hand splayed possessively over my rounded stomach as he drives into me. "All full of my baby, your tits swelling, your body changing. Fuck, it's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

I moan wantonly, my head thrashing against the blankets as pleasure consumes me. The way he's talking, the raw need in his voice, it sets my blood on fire. "Yes, Ryan," I whimper. "I'm all yours. This body is all for you."

"Damn right it is," he snarls, snapping his hips harder, his cock hitting that secret spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes. "This sweet cunt belongs to me. I'm gonna fill you up again and again until you're carrying another one of my babies."

"Please," I beg shamelessly, too far gone to care how desperate I sound. "I want it, I want you so deep. Breed me, Ryan."

He makes a harsh sound, almost like a roar, and then he's pounding into me, ruthless, relentless. One hand still clutches my belly while the other finds my clit, rubbing hard circles. "Come on my cock," he demands roughly. "Squeeze the cum out of me with this greedy pussy."

His filthy words are my undoing. I detonate with a silent scream, my walls clamping down on him like a vice as ecstasy crashes through me. Ryan follows me over the edge with a shout, his hips churning as he spills inside me, painting my womb with his seed.

"Jesus, Ava," he pants after, resting his sweaty forehead against mine. "The way you give it up to me... Fuck, baby, you're perfect."

"I can't help it," I laugh breathlessly, cupping his stubbly cheek. "You turn me into a needy mess. I'd happily let you put a baby in me every year if it means I get to have you like this forever."

"You've got yourself a deal, sweetheart," he rumbles, catching my lips in a deep, sensual kiss. "I plan to spend the rest of my life worshipping this body and keeping you barefoot and pregnant."

I sigh happily into the kiss, my heart so full it could burst. I never imagined I could have a love like this, so all-consuming and passionate. But Ryan stormed into my life and claimed me so completely, I can't remember what it felt like not to be his.

As he starts to harden inside me again, ready for round two, I send up a silent prayer of thanks that this incredible man is mine and that this is my forever. Lazy afternoons in my bookshop, making love and making babies, with the person I cherish most in this world. I couldn't ask for anything more.

Want a free book from Emma Bray? Go to www.authoremmabray.com .

Keep reading for an excerpt from Tennessee Whiskey .

Nick

I roll down the window and breathe in the scent of freshly mown grass as I speed down the old state highway that now looks like some sort of backwoods backroad. Although it's humid and hot as hell in the southern atmosphere, the fresh, earthy smell of Tennessee is starting to put me in a slightly better mood. Just a little bit.

It sure beats the mechanical, polluted smell of Boston anyway.

The reporters. Always in my face, trying to twist anything into a scandal. Starting rumors.

Yeah, it's no wonder I have a permanent scowl on my face.

Of course, I still kept my house in the city, but it'll be nice to have this country house to get away to when I want a break, and I'm in desperate need of one right now.

As the owner of one of the biggest software companies on the globe, I can work from wherever I want. Yeah, there are certain meetings I have to conduct in person in the city, but there's no reason why I can't conduct some of them virtually too. The hell away from everybody.

And I gotten this mansion in Tennessee for a steal. What would normally be a thirty million dollar home in Boston I got for a mere two million. Not like I'm lacking in finances. I'm one of Boston's most eligible billionaire bachelors—a moniker than makes me scowl just thinking about it—but I'm a smart investor if nothing else, so I couldn't pass up on the deal when I came across it.

I've never lived in the country before. I was born in the city—with concrete under my feet and all that—but my folks were from around here, so I have some sort of relations in the area even if I've never explored them. Maybe it's time I connect with my roots and slow it down a bit. Get a breather from the hustle and bustle of the city.

I only wish my parents were here to share in my success. They died in a car crash when I was a teen, so they never got to see my rise to billionaire status, and they weren't here for me to buy them the home of their dreams in their hometown, so I guess I'm doing this partly in their honor.

I reach over to flick on the radio and grimace when the twang of country music filters through the air. I hurry to change the station. I might long for the solitude and beauty of the countryside, but that doesn't mean I enjoy the whining that is country music. My tastes are much more refined. I finally find a station playing some light instrumental and leave it there.

When my eyes flick back up to the road, I slam on the brakes with a curse and skid to a stop.

A young woman stands fearlessly in the middle of the road with her hand held up to stop traffic. Granted, I'm the only traffic around. There are no other cars on this otherwise deserted road, but still. Jesus, I could have run her over.

My chest heaves with the adrenaline of my heart jumping up into my chest in panic at the close call, but the girl seems unconcerned. Her fiery red hair curls all around her face and shoulders like a lioness' mane before falling down to her waist. It's unruly and wild, making her look like something untamed.

My eyes rove over her slim frame, from the baby blue tank top and faded cut-off shorts to the thin, tan-colored flip-flops on her feet with red-painted toenails.

I watch in fascination as she bends down and picks something up out of the middle of the road. When she straightens, I see what's held in her hand and give an incredulous bark of laughter.

A turtle. The girl risked her life to stop traffic and help a turtle cross the street.

I watch as her long legs walk deftly to the other side of the road where she sets the terrapin down on the grass well off the side of the pavement before giving his shell an affectionate pat. She stands and starts to cross the road again to get back into the beat up-looking white truck I've just now noticed sitting on the side of the road.

I lean out of my rolled-down window, "Seriously? You realize I could have run you over?" I ask her with a growl, irritated that she put her life at risk in such a way.

She pauses by my luxury rental car and looks into my eyes for the first time.

Her eyes are a cerulean blue, a stunning color combination with her red hair. Her skin is flawless and milky, not tan like I'd normally expect of southern girls. Her lips are pink and lush, and I can't stop the visceral and immediate reaction of my body to the whole package of her looking at me directly like this.

She's stunning, but it's more than that. Something I can't put my finger on. Something that causes my chest to squeeze and renders me incapable of tearing my eyes from her.

She shrugs down at me like the fact that she endangered herself so recklessly is no big deal. "He needed help," she states simply, her voice smooth and musical and utterly feminine and innocent at the same time.

Her nonchalant attitude snaps me back to the matter at hand. I frown at her. "Nevertheless, that was dangerous."

She frowns. "He's an innocent animal. Somebody had to save him from assholes like you who come speeding down the highway like a bat out of hell. I couldn't just let him get run over."

I blink at the dressing down she gives me and regard her curiously. I can't remember the last time someone talked to me that way. Even the city's most powerful men know better than to show me such disrespect. "You have no sense of self-preservation, do you?"

Her eyes flash at the reprimand, and she crosses her arms over her chest as she points out, "Standing here arguing this point with you is keeping me in the middle of the road."

I realize she might have a point there. She raises a delicate brow at me. I'm stopped in the middle of the road, detaining her from getting back into her shitty-looking truck and getting out of the potential line of traffic.

"Get out of the road," I order her, waiting until she frowns but moves to do as I say before I maneuver my car onto the side of the road behind her truck.

She stops with a hand on the door handle to her truck and looks back at me as I just sit there watching her. I think I might be freaking her out, but I just want to make sure she gets in her vehicle okay and that the piece of shit starts.

It looks dubious at best.

I make a motion at her through my windshield, urging her to go on, and her pretty little lips turn down into a scowl, obviously put off at a complete stranger like me ordering her around. I feel my lips twitch. She's a firecracker. In every way, from her sassy little attitude to that captivating mane of red hair.

I watch patiently as she yanks on the door of the truck and then climbs up into the vehicle that looks way too big for a cute little thing like her.

If she were mine, I'd have her driving a sleek little Mercedes that would complement her but still provide plenty of safety.

She'd be wearing designer labels that would do her figure justice. I'd cover her with aquamarine diamonds that would only bring out the blue of her eyes.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel with the clarity of the images my mind conjures.

I don't know anything about this girl, but she looks like she should be mine .

I frown as I hear the turning of her truck's engine before it craps out. The fucker won't start. Just as I suspected. I honestly don't know how she drove it here in the first place. The piece of junk looks like it was on its last leg ten years ago.

I put my car into drive and pull up right beside her before putting it back in park. The window to the truck is rolled down. If I had to guess, I'd bet my last million it doesn't have working air conditioning in it. She eyes me suspiciously as I roll down the passenger side window before nodding to the seat next to me, "Get in," I tell her.

She stares at me from the inside of the truck before she scoffs, "Uh, yeah, no way, buddy."

Daisy

I watch his jaw tense as I tell him there's no way I'm getting into his car with him. He might be the most breathtaking man I've ever seen, but I don't know hide nor hair about him, and even the devil was supposedly God's most beautiful angel—that's what my gran says anyway.

His hair is dark and carelessly tousled in a stylish way. His arms look muscular beneath the dark button-up shirt he's wearing, the sleeves rolled-up to reveal strong forearms and a few buttons undone to reveal the top of his chest.

My heart thumped in my chest when he first spoke to me so moodily. A strange warmth filled my body at the deep timbre of his voice, but it was quickly tempered with annoyance at his sharp tone, ordering me about as if I'm a child.

Perhaps the most arresting thing about him, though, is his golden eyes. They're not brown, and they're not exactly amber. They're the most unique hue I've ever seen—in eyes anyway. They glimmer at me beneath his dark brows now as he frowns at me.

I think all the man knows how to do is glower and frown.

And order me around.

And treat me like I'm stupid for caring about the sanctity of animal life.

He curses, "I can't very well leave you here stranded."

"Don't worry about me," I retort back at him through our windows. "I'll be fine."

He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his head to glance out his sideview mirror before he suddenly slams his car into gear and shoots up in front of my truck, pulling his car into park off the side of the road in front of me.

I'm glued to the spot in shock as I watch the driver's side door open and see him step from the fancy vehicle with a long unfolding of limbs.

I gulp as he slams the door of his car shut and starts stalking over toward where I sit in my truck. My piece of crap truck that would choose today of all days to act up on me. I shouldn't have turned it off when I stopped to help the turtle cross the road. I should have just left it idling. I knew better. I knew that sometimes my ornery truck refused to start. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

I suddenly realize the danger of my situation. I'm stranded on the side of the road with a total stranger. My dumb self forgot to grab my cell phone before I left the house, something that I do frequently. I never really worry about it, though, when I'm just going to see my gran. She's about a seven-minute drive from where I live with my parents.

I consider jumping out of my truck and running. Maybe that would be the sensible thing to do, but I'm too stubborn and have too much pride to run. If the devil is coming for me, I'll meet him head on, and I sure as hell won't go down without a fight.

I sit up straighter in my seat and glare at the man defiantly as he finally reaches my truck.

He leans into my truck with an arm on the top of the window, his golden eyes boring into mine, seeming to burn me with their heat at such close range.

My breath catches in my throat despite myself. Instead of feeling fear, though, as I probably should, I feel this keen sense of excitement.

He stares at me for a long moment. I feel his eyes scorching every inch of my skin as they travel over my face. The intensity in his gaze is unnerving, like he's trying to see deep inside me to my soul.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His eyes seem to soften, and he suddenly looks more approachable, less brooding.

I still don't trust him for a minute.

"You're not from around here, are you?" I don't know why I ask it. It's obvious he's an out-of-towner. Everybody knows everybody around here, so the fact that I've never seen the guy lets me know with absolute certainty that he's not from around here.

And I'd certainly remember if I'd ever seen anyone like him before. He looks like one of those guys you see on the movies or the covers of magazines. His clothes look perfectly tailored to him and probably cost more than my parent's monthly mortgage.

His gaze never falters from me, but his lips finally quirk up in the semblance of a smile. Or perhaps it's more of a smirk.

"Not yet," he says by way of answer.

I frown at him, tilting my head to the side as I consider his odd answer. His eyes are still holding mine, but I'm broken from the golden trance of them when I hear the whooshing of a vehicle coming around the corner.

I look up just as I see Jake's brand-new truck rounding the corner. I see the stranger's gaze following mine to the truck, and his frown deepens as it slows when Jake obviously notices my truck sitting on the side of the road.

I feel an odd mixture of relief and disappointment at the appearance of a friendly face who can help me. I don't really know where the disappointment is coming from because there's no way in hell I was ever going to get into a car with this man I don't even know. My childhood friend showing up couldn't have been better timing.

"Daisy!" Jake rolls down his window and yells at me with his boyish grin.

"Daisy," I hear the dark-haired man repeat my name thoughtfully as if he's trying it out for size. I feel his stare on me, but I ignore him and the heat that flushes my face as I call back to Jake, "Hey, Jake!"

"The old girl crap out on you again?" Jake asks me knowingly. Yeah, he's picked me up more than once when my truck wouldn't start.

"Yeah," I nod as I open the door of my truck. The stranger steps back just in time to avoid the swing of my truck door smacking him as I hop out.

I can feel him scowling again, but I continue to ignore him. I'm not purposefully trying to be rude, but Mr. Grouchy Pants has done nothing but stare and glower at me since I met him, and I'm already over it.

I run over to Jake's truck and hop into the passenger side. I see my sandy-haired friend looking at the dark-haired man curiously.

"Who's that?" he asks, making no move to hide his interest in the stranger.

I shrug, not even glancing back at whatever-his-name-is. I feel a pang when I realize I don't even know his name, but then I realize it's probably for the best. He's just someone passing through, and I'll surely never see him again.

"Just someone who stopped to see what was going on."

Jake frowns. "Good thing I showed up when I did then. You don't need to be taking rides from strangers, Daisy," he warns.

"I know," I agree with him. "I wasn't going to."

"I don't think he would have hurt me, though," I can't help adding.

Jake looks at me quizzically, but thankfully he doesn't say anything about my odd comment. Instead, he just nods to the dark-haired guy before he pulls away from the curb and starts off down the road.

I chance a glance in the sideview mirror back at the man still standing by my truck on the side of the road. His jaw is clenched, his eyes boring into us as we drive away, his hands fisted at his sides.

I feel a shiver run up my spine despite the summer heat.

It's definitely a good thing Jake came along when he did.

Get Tennessee Whiskey here: Tennessee Whiskey .