Epilogue

Lachlan

I quietly leaned against the doorframe to our library, observing my mate. Quinn was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, sorting packages into piles to be wrapped. Rory and Patrick were content in their bouncing seats in front of him, gurgling and cooing.

They were six months old now, and growing like little weeds. Rory was still the bigger of the two, by a pound. They were both long, already well on their way to being tall. Rory's russet hair was already starting to show signs of thick, wild curls, while Patrick's black hair stuck straight up on top of his head, like a little punk rocker. It didn't matter what we did to it, it still just ended up sticking straight up. It was cute as hell.

I was working most days from home and had never been happier. On the days I had to make an appearance in the office, Quinn would stay home with the kids, or take them into The Sweet Spot with him. He had a corner of the kitchen set up for them, and he'd pop them in their playpen, or let them chill in their bouncy seats. As long as they could see the action, any action going on, they were happy. Quinn made an effort to be home by two each day, though with the holidays, his days had been longer, but nothing as hectic as the previous Christmas .

Josh was a full-time baker now, and Jenna had happily accepted a full-time position when Quinn had offered it to her, after the twin's birth.

He'd surprised me when he'd done it, but he'd only snarked that he very well couldn't let another bakery snatch her up, when she made his signature cookies as well as he did. I knew better than to ask if it was really because he was enjoying parenthood more than he'd ever dreamed he would, and had just agreed with him. Good alphas knew when to pick their battles. I certainly wasn't going to complain about him being home more.

I'd kept up with my cooking lessons from Therese, and was pretty good if I did say so myself.

Well, my mate said it often. It was something I found relaxed me, and I loved the feeling I got putting a meal I'd made on the table, for my family. All the things I'd always thought I'd wanted from a mate, were all the things I adored doing, for my mate and our pups.

Quinn noticed me in the doorway after a few minutes, and he waved his hands over the mounds of presents, in exasperation. "I may have gone a tiny bit overboard."

Moving to sit on the sofa, and stretching my sock-clad feet towards the warmth of the flames burning in the fireplace, I laughed. "I'm on a first-name basis with our mail person, UPS, and FedEx drivers, and don't get me started on Amazon, babe."

Quinn rolled his sparkling green eyes at me. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not that bad."

Rory waved her hands frantically at me, and even though I knew that at six months, she probably couldn't even see me that well, I still took it as a sign that she needed her papa to pick her up.

"She was fine in her bouncy," Quinn told me .

He was constantly telling me that I didn't need to pick one of the twins up every time they made a noise. I told him to mind his business and did it anyway.

Quinn lost the battle he was having with some red tissue paper, and crumpled it into a wadded-up ball, before putting it in the top of a gift bag. "I don't know how Wade makes this stuff look so fancy. It's almost as bad as plastic wrap. That stuff is the devil."

I bounced Rory in my arms, her warm weight perfection. Patrick seemed content in his bouncy for the moment, softly making noises and entertaining himself. Rory was the louder of the twins. She was the first to fuss about anything, and she made her demands known with a loud fierceness. Patrick was very chill and mellow, hardly ever fussing over much of anything. I loved them both equally and tremendously, and more than I ever thought I could love anything. Except maybe their daddy.

"Fuck!" Quinn hissed, throwing wild eyes my way frantically.

"Language," I admonished, for the one hundred and twenty-sixth time that day. I had no doubt our children's first words were going to be of the four-letter variety. I was looking forward to getting that phone call from preschool.

"What's wrong?" I kept my voice calm. A calm papa was a calm baby, and I didn't need Rory in a panic over nothing.

Quinn was tossing shopping bags here and there, then sat back on his knees. "I forgot to get any stocking stuffers. Santa has to fill the stockings. I'm the worst parent ever! I told you I would suck at this!"

"Now who's being dramatic?" I sing-songed to Rory, who gave the cutest little baby giggle, or her version of one anyway. "Daddy is silly, isn't he? Yes, he is."

I didn't even need to look over at my mate, to know he was giving me the finger. "Fuck right off, Lach. Right off. Santa eats the cookies, and drinks the milk, and fills the stockings, and leaves the presents. That's how it's done. And, I have nothing for our stockings!"

"I've got it covered, babe." The ring box was burning a hole in my office drawer, the only place I thought my nosy mate wouldn't go snooping for any of his presents.

"You do?"

"I do," I assured him, bouncing Rory harder. She chortled, her little hands holding mine tightly.

While I'd been signing for packages, and carrying bag after bag from Quinn's shopping trips, I'd been taking notice of his purchases. While Quinn had all the major gifts covered, from the twins, all the way down to each of my brothers and anyone in between, I'd realized he'd forgotten stocking stuffers.

"When she pukes all over you, I don't want to hear you whining." He wadded up more tissue paper and added it to another gift bag.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "She wouldn't dare do that to her papa."

"Good luck with that. This is my fourth shirt today." He pointed to a fresh stain. "I gave up after that. I'll shower before we go to your mom's and change."

Rory took that moment to do exactly what Quinn had warned and hurled warm, stinky, regurgitated baby milk all over the front of me. I grimaced as I felt a glob make it past the collar of my shirt, and slither down my bare skin.

Quinn gave me an ‘I told you so' look. "Guess we'll both be taking showers."

"Together?" I waggled my eyebrows at him while mopping at our daughter's front with a blanket made for these things .

"Not if you want to get there on time." Quinn looked at the clock, then pointed to his wrist, in a tick-tock motion. "We need to be at your mom's in half an hour."

"Fine," I pouted, standing with Rory. She tugged at my hair with one pudgy hand. "I've got Thing One, you get Thing Two."

Quinn planted Patrick on his hip like he'd been doing it his whole life. "Let's do this."

Hours later, I had ‘Die Hard' playing softly for background noise, as I filled the twins' stockings. Rattles, teething rings, and even some candy they can't eat, but it's Christmas. I know they won't remember, but I plan on taking tons of pictures. I want them to believe in Santa and his magic, as long as possible. My gut is churning with nervous anticipation, my hands clammy and sweaty. I keep having to dry them on my flannel pajama pants.

We'd gotten home from my mom's a little while ago, exhausted from the festivities and carrying in all the presents the babies had received, but weirdly wound up too. Between my family and what we had bought them, we could put half the presents away for next year, and the twins would still have more than enough.

Quinn entered the room, stretching his long, lithe frame. I watched him hungrily, my wolf humming in appreciation. My mate was beautiful, and pregnancy had filled him out in all the best ways. He flopped on the couch, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Kids are down. Hopefully for a couple of hours. They were so tired, but fought it hard."

"Too much excitement." I finished with the kid's stockings and moved on to mine. Yeah, I'd bought stuff for Quinn and my stocking's. I wasn't about to have to try to explain why Daddy and Papa's stockings were empty in the future pictures. "You want to help with this, or be surprised in the morning? "

"Will helping you get you naked and in bed faster?" He gave me a dirty smile, and my cock hardened from just that look. "I have plans for you tonight, alpha."

I wiggled my butt against the backs of my thighs from my kneeling position, feeling the plug move inside me. I bit my lower lip, moaning as the tip brushed my prostate. I'd planned to surprise Quinn with the plug, wanting him to fill me up tonight. Maybe I'd slide down his fat cock, and ride him like a cowboy. "Mmmm, I can't wait."

Quinn heaved himself off the sofa, kneeling next to me and taking his stocking down from the holder. Maeve had gifted us with the stocking holders, each one hand-sculpted by her. A big silver wolf for me, a sleek black leopard for Quinn, and two little gray wolf cubs for the twins.

They hadn't shifted yet, and wouldn't until they were about three, so we didn't know what color they would be, or even what they would be. She'd explained she'd gone with gray since my wolf was silver, and Quinn's cat black, and the two mixed made gray.

Quinn frowned at the weight he'd felt, then shook his nearly empty stocking. "What'd you put in here?"

I gave him my best innocent look. "Must have been Santa."

He snorted. "Can I sit on Santa's lap later?"

"If you've been a good boy."

He shot me his sexiest grin, and said in a low, husky voice, "Oh I'm always good, even when I'm bad."

I waggled my brows at him, and he broke into peals of laughter. I loved the sound of his laughter.

Looking around, for the first time I noticed the fire in the fireplace, the room lit only by the orange and red flames, and the lights of the Christmas tree. Twinkling, multi-colored strands, because Quinn had put his foot down on what colored lights would go on the tree. "I'm not having boring white lights, Lachlan, who are you?" The TV screen added to the shadows, and I had the strangest feeling of déjà vu come over me.

Then it slammed into me like a freight train. I'd dreamed of this night. The lights on the tree, the fire, the stockings, the ring box nestled in the bottom of Quinn's stocking right now. That faceless person I'd dreamed of, but couldn't ever quite see, had been Quinn. Peace filled me, and I looked at him softly, all the love I felt for him shining brightly on my face.

"What's wrong with you? You look fucking weird right now." He frowned at me. "Are you getting sick? You cannot get sick on Christmas, Lachlan, I won't have it."

"I'm not sick," I assured him, smiling. "Why don't you see what's in your stocking, Sass Ass?"

He was still giving me his frowny face as he reached into the stocking, feeling around. I knew the minute he felt the velvety box. His face stilled, his eyes widened, and his top teeth came out to catch his plump, lower lip.

He slowly, ever so slowly, pulled out the black velvet ring box.

His green eyes shone, but I couldn't tell if they were glassy from impending tears or the reflection of the lights from the tree in them. "Lachlan?"

His whisper was as loud as a gunshot in my ears, and I moved until I was on one knee in front of him. I took the box from him and opened it, revealing a wide silver band, surrounded by the clearest, greenest emeralds money could buy. They matched his eyes perfectly.

I took his hand in mine, feeling his tremble against my skin. "Quinn Rafferty, I love you. You are my everything. My mate, my partner, my omega. You make me laugh, you keep me on my toes, you exasperate me. You let me be me. I love your sassy mouth and your attitude, and…"

"And my baked goods," he whispered roughly.

I laughed. "And your baked goods. Don't interrupt. "

Quinn made a zipper motion over his mouth. Despite his joking, his hand was still trembling in mine.

"As I was saying, I love you. I never dreamed that a bad day, and being banned – "

"You were being hella rude that day," he reminded me.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Can I finish?"

He waved his free hand at me, in a go-ahead sign. "Please, continue. You were having a bad day…"

I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut. "Damn it! I had a whole speech planned in my head, and now I've lost my train of thought. Give me a second."

Quinn stared at the ring in my hand, then at me, then back at the ring. My stomach clenched because I can't tell what he is thinking.

Not even with our mate bond.

He had gotten good at blocking me out when he chooses to.

One of his long, graceful fingers reached out and touched the cool metal of the band. His voice was low and quiet when he spoke, and I had to strain my wolf ears to hear him.

"I never wanted to be tied down. I thought it meant I'd have to give up parts of myself, give up my passion. I never wanted children for the same reason. I never dreamed there would be someone out there that would let me have both. That I would ever even want both. Until this big, rude alpha, who was having a very bad day," he amended when I opened my mouth in protest.

"Cut to the front of the line in my bakery. You've given me everything I could ever ask for, and more. I never felt like I was missing something, until you. Because you complete me, Lachlan, and make me feel whole inside, without even trying. You make my soul peaceful, and don't try to change me. You know when to put up with my shenanigans, and when to tell me to knock my shit off. You have always instinctively known what I've needed, maybe better than I did." Quinn took the ring from the box and slid it onto the finger on his left hand.

I ran a hand through my hair. "This was not how I planned this proposal going. So, it's a yes then?"

"All the yesses."

I pulled him towards me, my lips latching onto his hungrily. It turned passionate in a minute, our tongues tangling together, breaths coming harshly. Quinn's hands slid down my back, trailing over my skin, and setting off a round of goosebumps down my spine. His hands moved over the mounds of my ass, one finger trailing in between my flannel-covered cheeks. I moaned when he found the plug, tapping it and setting off my already over-sensitive nerve endings.

"Someone's going to end up on the naughty list," he whispered against the skin of my ear, and I shuddered.

"Sooo naughty. Want to ride your big cock tonight. Want you to fill me up," I moaned.

"Ride ‘em, cowboy!" He patted my ass again, jostling the plug, and I groaned loudly, the sound dirty in the room.

He nuzzled against my jaw, rubbing my closely trimmed beard against his skin. "I love you, Lachlan."

"I love you, Sass Ass." I whispered, my lips brushing his curls on the top of his head. "Now, take me to bed, before Thing One and Thing Two wake up, and want all the attention."

"Whatever my alpha wants," he whispered.

The End