Epilogue Mira

EPILOGUE: MIRA

TWO MONTHS LATER

"There should be a circle of hell dedicated to children's birthday parties," Taylor grumbles as a train of children chug through the kitchen, loudly blowing party horns. Aiden is at the lead, grinning from ear to ear. Once they turn down the hall for Aiden's room, Taylor sags against the countertop. "No offense."

I toss a pile of cake-covered paper plates in the trash with a shrug. "Why would I be offended? You're just saying the party I planned for the last three weeks and executed perfectly belongs in Dante's Inferno . What's offensive about that?"

To be fair, this party could've been done in only a few days. Zane's new assistant offered to help by calling vendors, ordering the cake, and sourcing invitations, but I told Gavin I would handle it all myself.

Honestly, I needed the distraction.

It's been almost two months since the night everything happened, and we're all slowly getting back to form. I sleep a little more each night. Aiden asks fewer and fewer questions about bad guys breaking in. Zane isn't compulsively checking the security cameras quite as often.

We each still have our good days and bad days, but today is a good day.

"I'm sorry." Taylor wraps her arms around my shoulders, squishing her cheek against mine. "Your superhero party for six-year-olds is the event of the season. Coachella has nothing on this."

"That's not a compliment! You hated Coachella. You said it was an ‘overpriced, under-hydrated desert where music goes to die.'"

Taylor cocks her ear towards the patio doors. "What was that? Oh, Daniel is calling for me."

"I'm officially taking offense!" I shout at her back as she skedaddles onto the patio, but not before blowing me a kiss through the open door.

I slide some dirty dishes into the soapy water in the sink and start trying to make sense of the trash that's collected on the countertop throughout the day, when another pair of arms slide around my middle. This time, it's a stubbly cheek against mine, Zane's voice deep and warm in my ear. "You should be enjoying the party."

"I am. I love dishes."

He nips at my neck. "I'll clean the kitchen later. Come back to the party."

I spin around in his arms, letting him cage me against the counter. He and Daniel have been golfing a few days every week in the offseason, so his skin is a rich golden brown and his blonde hair is lighter than I've ever seen it. I run my fingers through it because I can never seem to stop myself. "Are you trying to seduce me with chores?"

"Absolutely. If you don't succumb, I'll take out the trash next."

"I'm soaking wet." I dramatically bite my lower lip. "What else?"

"You know that pile of hockey gear in the back corner of my closet?" he teases in a breathy voice. "I'll organize it."

I hook a leg around his hip. "Take me now, Prince Charming."

"Don't tempt me." He kisses me, nipping at my lower lip in a way that has heat swirling low in my stomach.

Thankfully, before mistakes can be made, a chorus of party horns echo down the hallway. The partiers stomp through the kitchen and into the backyard. Zane and I follow them through the door, taking up the caboose.

Each boy grabs a slice of pizza as they pass the snack table and then they march for Aiden's clubhouse underneath the slide.

"Do we need to order more pizza?" Davis shuffles through the pile of empty pizza boxes. "Who knew kids could eat so much?"

"Everyone with a kid," Jace snorts. "Gallagher eats more than I do some days."

"We've also been here for lunch and dinner." Rachelle turns to me. "If you need to kick us out, Mira, please do. We're intruding."

I wave her off. "We don't mind. I think the men missed each other."

The hockey players in question all grumble and deny it, but they've been huddled in a circle, chatting and laughing, since the party started seven hours ago.

"It's true. You all gossip like a bunch of old ladies." Taylor elbows Daniel in the side.

"Talking about where Carson Deluth got traded is not gossip. It's business."

I roll my eyes. "Is it also ‘ business' to cackle like hyenas about how he got traded back East to the worst team in the league?"

"Okay, you got us. That isn't business," Daniel says, lifting his chin in defiance. " That, my friends, is karma."

I can't argue with that. Not after the way Carson treated me at the award ceremony. Coach Popov put Carson on suspension the day after he attacked me. Apparently, he couldn't be let go from his contract, but within the month, he was traded for three second-round draft picks.

Zane jokes that Popov would've probably accepted a washing machine and an IOU if that's what it took to get rid of him. He might not be wrong.

The party goes on way too late. Gallagher falls asleep while the boys are playing hide-and-go-seek, so Jace has to crawl under Aiden's bed and drag him out by his legs. When they leave—a sleeping Gallagher in tow—Reeves and Jemma collect Jalen and decide to call it a night, too. Jemma kisses each of my cheeks and Jalen thanks me for "the best party ever."

As soon as they're gone, I nudge Taylor. "Did you hear that? I threw the best party ever. I don't think the best party ever would be one of the circles of hell, do you?"

She rolls her eyes. "You're so dramatic."

"And you're still here even though it's—" I check the time. "—after nine! Sounds like a pretty fun party to me if you hung around for nine hours."

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" she drones.

"Never," Zane agrees. "Mira knows how to hold a grudge."

"It runs in my family."

There are a few beats of tense, nervous silence before Taylor and I bust out laughing at the same time.

Daniel joins in after a second, but Zane just shakes his head and tugs me against his side.

"How can I make it up to you, Mimi?" Taylor prods cheekily. "What do I have to do to make sure you don't go homicidal on me?"

"That's fucked-up," Daniel mumbles.

"According to my therapist, dark humor can be a coping mechanism." I turn to Taylor. "Which is why you have to let me plan your next birthday party. There will be chocolate fountains?—"

"No!" she gasps in horror. "Do you have any idea how much hair and dust get in those things?"

"—and a karaoke machine that only plays Whitney Houston."

"No one but her can hit those high notes!" she complains. "I don't know why people even try."

I laugh maniacally. "Put me in full control of your party, and I'll forgive you."

She considers it for a second. Then a very, very suspicious grin spreads across her face. "What if I let you be my wedding planning partner instead?"

My brain short-circuits. I look from Taylor to Daniel and back again, but it's only when Taylor pulls a ginormous diamond rock out of her pocket and slips it on her ring finger that I scream.

"You're engaged and you didn't tell me?!" I yank her into a hug and we're laughing and jumping and stumbling all over the place.

"It just happened last night. You're the first people we've told."

"Oh my God." I hold Taylor at arm's length. "I didn't think this day would come. No offense."

She squeezes out a laugh. "Offense taken, you bitch."

We send Taylor and Daniel away with hugs and congratulations and promises to get together and start wedding planning soon. Taylor is positive she's going to need at least two years to plan the perfect wedding. Zane and Daniel share a look that seems to say something along the lines of God help us all.

Then they're gone, and we're alone.

I scan the dirty kitchen and the streamers still hanging from the patio, wondering where to start first. Then I realize what we're missing.

"Where did Aiden go?"

"He walked Jalen out to his car, but I haven't seen him since." Zane pads down the hallway, calling his name.

I know Aiden is fine. He's here in the house somewhere. Still, I have to take slow, deep breaths to keep myself from falling off a mental ledge. My panic button is on a hairpin trigger these days. It doesn't take much to set me off.

By the time Zane comes back a minute later and waves for me to follow him down to Aiden's room, I'm almost completely back under control.

Aiden is sitting at the end of his bed, a folder in his hands. Zane is sitting next to him.

Both of them are looking at me.

Maybe I should've done a bit more deep breathing.

"What's going on, guys?"

"Aiden has something he wants to talk to you about." Zane loops an arm around Aiden, who I realize now is shaking with nerves.

My heart jolts, but I walk myself through the facts.

We're all together.

The house is safe.

No one is trying to hurt us.

I kneel in front of Aiden. "You can talk to me about anything, bud. What's wrong?"

"You and Daddy got married," he says slowly. "Because you loved each other."

I'm not sure if it's a question or not, but I nod. "Yes, we did. I love your dad very much. And you."

He blinks at me with wide, blue eyes. "But we can't get married."

"No," I chuckle. "We can't. I'm already married."

"So… we can't be a family."

I frown and glance at Zane, but he doesn't look like he's planning to jump in. He's just observing. Watching me flounder.

"Oh, um, well, that's not exactly—" I blow out a deep breath. "You and I are family, Aiden. When I married your dad, you and I became family, too."

"But you're not my mom."

I bite my lower lip. I knew conversations like this were coming, but I didn't think we'd be getting into this yet. He's only six. He doesn't understand how money works. He thinks the internet is the one fruit matching game I let him play on my phone. How do I explain what constitutes a family?

I take his little hand in mine. "No, I am not your mom. I didn't carry you in my tummy and I didn't know you as a baby, but I love you like you're mine. I'll be whoever you want me to be."

"I want you to be my mom," he says with no hesitation, thrusting the manila folder at me.

I stare down at it. "What's this?"

Aiden looks at Zane like I'm being silly. "You said you wanted to be my mom. Now, you can sign these and you will be."

I flip the folder open, my chest seizing when I see the word ADOPTION printed across the top of the complicated-looking documents.

"What…?" I breathe.

Zane flips the folder closed and takes my hand. "Aiden came up with this idea on his own. He said he wanted you to be his mom. He wanted to have a ceremony like you and I did to make it official."

"But the social workers…" I look nervously at Aiden. "They haven't?—"

"He's officially mine as of two weeks ago." Zane can't hide the grin that stretches across his face. "Peter Morris signed off on my legal guardianship himself, to my utter shock. Aiden is mine—and, as soon as you sign these papers, he can be yours, too."

Any attempt at swallowing down my tears goes right out the window. I sob so hard that Aiden gets concerned.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he gasps because I'm squeezing him so tight.

I kiss his soft cheek. "Of course I want to, Aiden! I'd be honored to be your mom."

He points to my wet face and asks, "Happy tears?"

I nod fervently. "The absolute happiest."

I try to pull myself together, but after I cry through the entire first bedtime book, Aiden politely suggests I leave so I don't interrupt his routine. I don't even blame him.

By the time Zane is done putting him to bed, I'm changed into a night shirt and rinsing my puffy face with cold water in the bathroom.

He leans against the doorway, a smug smile on his face. "Sorry to spring that on you. I didn't think you'd cry so much."

"The sweetest boy in the world just told me he wanted me to be his mom." I get choked up even thinking about it. My chin dimples, and I have to stare at the ceiling to keep from crying again. "What else was I supposed to do?"

Zane pads across the bathroom floor and brushes tears from my cheeks. "I can't believe I used to think you were Wednesday Addams."

"I thought that was just because of the dark hair."

He twists the end of my hair around his finger. "No, it was because you never smiled at me and I thought you were a stone-cold bitch."

"You were right about one of those things." I grin up at him.

"So true. Everyone knows stone-cold bitches cry over adopting little boys they love… and about baby frogs on nature documentaries that get eaten by bigger frogs?—"

My lower lip trembles. "I just don't understand how the species survives if they eat their young."

He smiles at me so adoringly, my stomach flips. No one has ever looked at me the way Zane does. "You really are a softy now."

"It's your fault!" I poke him in the chest.

He kisses my neck. "Because I broke down the walls of your heart and made you fall in love with me?"

I bend to give him better access, stroking my hand under the hem of his shirt and over the broad muscles of his back. "Yeah, that, too, I guess. But I was mainly thinking about how you got me pregnant and made me all hormonal."

Zane stiffens. He releases one startled breath against my neck.

Then he jerks back, holding me at arm's length while wide, blue eyes search every inch of my face. "How I got you what ?"

Tears well in my eyes as I explain everything.

How I thought I missed a period because of the stress, and the pregnancy tests kept coming back negative, but then I missed another period, so I scheduled a doctor's appointment.

I turn to grab something from the top drawer, but Zane's hands are fisted so tight in the back of my shirt that I have to pry his fingers loose to pull out the sonogram.

Zane stares down at the black-and-white image for so long I think he's frozen.

"I'm almost twelve weeks," I explain softly. "But I've been taking prenatals since we decided to start trying, so that's good. The doctor said the baby looks healthy, and I—I'm sorry, did you want to be at the appointment? I didn't know they were going to do an ultrasound that day. I didn't think it was possible I was that far along, but?—"

Zane silences me with a long, passionate kiss that steals every thought from my head except for more and please and right now.

He lifts me onto the counter and takes the sonogram from my hand. I don't know where he puts it because I'm too focused on the way he hooks his hands around my thighs and drags me to the very edge of the counter, opening me for him.

His thumb brushes over the thin material of my panties, and I whimper against his lips.

"Twelve weeks," he breathes, stroking me. "That would be?—"

"The night at the hotel. In the pool."

He inhales sharply, and I know exactly what he's thinking. It's the same thoughts I had once I found out.

Dante threw me on the coffee table. He tackled me in the grass. I was in jail.

I thought the endless weeks of nausea were from the stress of talking to detectives and coordinating a defense strategy with Hollis and navigating the trauma of it all. I even had a couple glasses of wine with Taylor one night to celebrate the police dropping all of the charges. I threw it up within the hour, though.

"The baby is healthy." I press my hand to Zane's face, pulling his eyes to mine. "Our baby is okay."

His jaw flexes. "Are you okay?"

"‘Okay'?" I laugh. "As soon as I know you aren't mad at me, this is going to be the best day of my entire life."

All at once, Zane picks me up and carries me into our bedroom. He gently lays me on the bed, shedding clothes as he crawls over me.

I stroke my hands down his chest. "Does this mean you aren't mad at me?"

He presses a hand between my legs, dragging devastating friction over exactly where I want him. "Would I be doing this if I was mad?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," I pant, arching off the bed to get more. "We've had hate sex before."

Zane slides his hands over my body, peeling away my shirt and panties like they're nothing. He kisses his way up my thighs and over my hips. His stubble scrapes over my stomach and between my breasts. By the time his mouth is over mine, I'm clinging to his neck, practically begging him to touch me.

"I never hated you, Mira." Zane positions himself at my entrance, and we both sigh in relief when he slides home. His jaw clenches. "I hated how much I wanted you."

We've barely started, and I'm already halfway there. I'm writhing against him, lost to the feel of him sliding in and out of me.

Zane's mouth crashes over mine. He tilts my hips, taking me faster until I'm whimpering, crying out his name with every thrust. He groans when we're sealed together. "I hated that I thought you would never be mine."

"I'm yours." I roll my hips, taking every bit of him I can. "I want you and I'm yours and I love you and please, please, for God's sake, fuck me."

His eyes darken and his hips snap against mine until the sheets are a tangled mess in my fists and we're slick with sweat. He whispers beautiful, filthy things against my skin until I come so hard I'm seeing stars.

Zane spills into me and then collapses next to me on the bed, wrapping me up in his arms and his warmth and his wintergreen skin.

"If I wasn't already pregnant, that would've been it," I breathe. "Apparently, we'll have to be careful. I think we might be good at this."

"At fucking?" Zane asks, circling my breast with his finger. "Obviously."

"At making babies," I clarify. "It didn't take very long with the first one."

"Good. I want to make so many babies with you, Mira Whitaker."

I hum in thought. "How many are we talking here? A normal large family or we-have-our-own-show-on-network-television kinda large family?"

Zane laughs. "Well, Aiden and I have talked about it and?—"

I sit up on my elbows. "You and Aiden have talked about how many babies we should have?"

He shushes me, easing me back down on the mattress like it's all perfectly normal and nothing to worry about. "Looking at it practically, we only have the space for about five more kids."

"Five more ?" I gape.

Zane kneels between my legs, his hands stroking fire up my thighs. "But that's only if we stay in this house. We can always move."

"We'll have to move into an abandoned schoolhouse with how many kids you apparently want!"

"There's an idea." Zane takes me in— all of me —and smiles. "My one truth for today is that I've never been happier in my entire life, Mira. I want it all with you. Everything you'll give me."

My one truth is that there's absolutely nothing I wouldn't give this man. Including a busload of children.

I keep that truth to myself for now, though.

I'll let him do his damnedest to convince me.