Epilogue

MELBOURNE

Six Months Later

T he weather outside was frightful, with a snowstorm blowing, and I'd been anxiously waiting for Waylon to come home for the last two hours. I didn't like him being outside in this, but as my darling boyfriend reminded me when he left, "Duty calls." If that didn't describe Waylon in two words…

With a deep sigh, I refocused on my manuscript. The self-editing phase was the stage of writing I hated most. When I'd read my own words so many times that they seemed bland and the story had lost all appeal to me. I just wanted to get the damn thing done and over with, but alas, my editor wouldn't accept a version I hadn't gone through first myself.

But it was so much easier when Waylon was home. Everything was easier when I was with him. He reminded me to take my meds on time, to set a timer for regular breaks when I was writing, to actually eat three meals a day and get at least seven hours of sleep—who knew what a difference that could make?—and even to get some exercise in. Which I did, grumbling about it the whole time, but I couldn't deny how much better I felt compared to six months ago.

Six months already. My life had changed in so many ways since meeting my Waylon. Sometimes, I had to pinch myself to remember I wasn't dreaming, that this was real. When he'd asked me to stay, I'd been terrified. How could a man that competent and put together want a walking disaster like me?

But he had, and it hadn't taken long to realize I was in love with him…and that he loved me right back. I'd never met anyone with a heart as big as his. His love came with endless patience and care, with an understanding of all my quirks, and with the occasional stern talking-to when needed.

It also came with lots and lots of sex. My darling deputy had the horny stamina of a teenager, and I loved nothing more than volunteering as his tribute. Did it mean that I was upset about the two-to-one orgasm ratio between him and me? Not at all. When he came, my pleasure was emotional, and that was worth ten orgasms for me. That was love for ya.

The faint rumble of a car came closer, and I perked up. Was that…? I hurried to the window, and yes, there he was. My Waylon. He backed his patrol car into the driveway, and by the time he'd gotten out, I was at the front door, waiting for him.

His whole face lit up when he spotted me, a sight I'd never grow tired of. He wore his love on his sleeve, making me feel precious and cherished. He was a walking miracle, my man. Mushy and corny? Oh yeah, but see if I cared.

He hurried inside, and I had my mouth on him before he'd even closed the door. "Careful, I'm covered in snow," he said, laughing.

I put my hand on his cheek, and it was icy. "You're cold."

"You're telling me. I was outside in the storm for an hour."

"Why?"

He took off his jacket and handed it to me, and I neatly hung it on the coat rack. Then his gun belt came off, and I knew better than to disturb that routine. Waylon was dead serious about gun safety, and I respected him for it. His hands shook a little as he punched the code in, and as soon as he'd locked the safe, I took them between my hands. "Darling, you're frozen. What happened?"

"I delivered a baby."

"What?" I knelt to unlace his boots. His feet were clumps of ice.

"A couple got stranded on their way to the hospital when their car slid off the road. By the time I arrived, her contractions were less than a minute apart. I called Doc Everett, but she couldn't wait that long. So I helped deliver the baby, and when Doc came, he only had to cut the umbilical cord. Mom and baby are fine."

My hero. "They were lucky to have you."

He shrugged as he attempted to undo the buttons on his uniform. I slapped his hands away and did it for him. "That's why Doc trains us every year for emergency situations like this. Thanks to him, I knew exactly what to do."

I peeled him out of his uniform shirt, then helped him out of his soaking-wet pants. "Let's get you into a lukewarm shower to warm up."

He'd been the one to teach me that when someone was hypothermic, a hot shower or bath wasn't smart because it could induce a heart attack. I wasn't taking any chances. Besides, with how cold he was, lukewarm would feel warm the first two minutes, and then we could crank up the temperature.

Waylon gave me one of those soft smiles, almost indulgent, as he kissed me with cold lips. "Sounds like a plan."

I didn't often get to take care of him, but when it happened, I took it seriously. So, while I parked him in the shower, I quickly got some water boiling for tea and put some tomato soup from the freezer into the microwave to defrost. My culinary skills had improved a little, and I now excelled at making a grilled cheese sandwich, which happened to be Waylon's favorite, especially when paired with homemade tomato soup.

When he'd sufficiently warmed up, he got dressed again—I made sure he wore warm woolen socks and the thickest sweater I could find—and curled up on the couch under a blanket I brought from our bedroom. I heated the soup while he sipped his tea, and a few minutes later, he was munching on his grilled cheese sandwich since the soup was too hot to eat.

"How was your day?" he asked me.

I made a face. "I was self-editing."

"Ouch. Did you make good progress?"

"I need one more hour, I think, but I can do that Monday."

As soon as he'd finished his sandwich, I snuggled against him and put my head on his lap. He immediately put his big hand on my head and started scratching my scalp. I felt like a kitten about to purr. Why was something so simple the best feeling in the world?

"Why not finish it tomorrow morning?"

"Because you're off, and I want to spend time with you."

"I'll be doing my workout anyway, and if you do it first thing, we'll have the rest of the weekend together."

"If I do it Monday, we'll have all day tomorrow and Sunday together. And I like watching you when you work out."

He chuckled. "I see how it is. You're hoping for sweaty sex."

He wasn't wrong. I loved fucking him when he was all sweaty after a workout. For some reason, that cranked my engine. "Are you complaining? As I recall, you're always happy to indulge me."

"Oh, I am, so how about we do this? If you finish your edits now, I promise to be extra sweaty tomorrow and be inside you as soon as my workout is finished."

He wasn't playing fair, but it showed how well he knew me. Waylon used every weapon in his considerable arsenal to make me do what was good for me, and how could I get upset about that? "You really know how to motivate me, huh?"

He grinned as he bent over and kissed the top of my head. "I will use any method I need to take care of you."

"Because you love me."

"Because I love you," he confirmed.

Sometimes, the realization of how lucky I was to be loved by this man hit me all over again. Like now. What had I done in life to deserve this much love? To be this intensely happy? To spend the rest of my life with the most amazing partner I could wish for?

I sat up and knelt on the couch. Waylon frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Marry me."

His eyes grew big. "Mel…"

"Marry me and give me your name. I want to be yours officially. With rings and a ceremony and us all dressed up like penguins in tuxedos. Not a big ceremony because neither of us cares about that, but with the people we love. We'll do our own vows and light a candle for your mom, and, Waylon, I've never wanted anything more." I took a shaky breath. "I know it sounds impulsive, and maybe it is, but that doesn't mean it's wrong. You always say I should take three extra seconds to make decisions, but for this one, I don't need ‘em. You could ask me for three hours, three days, three years, and I would still want the same thing. Six months ago, you asked me to stay. I'm now telling you I want to stay forever. Please say yes."

His face broke open in the most beautiful smile. "Give me one moment, Mel. I promise it'll be worth it."

One moment? For what?

He leaned in for a quick kiss, got off the couch, and walked into the kitchen. What the hell was he doing? He opened one of the cupboards and got something from the top shelf, the one I couldn't reach without a step stool. It was something small, square, and dark blue, and…

Oh.

When he walked back and sank to his knees in front of me, I knew. "You have a ring?"

My voice broke.

He opened the little square box, showing me a simple gold wedding ring. "It was my father's. Four weeks after we met, I had it resized so it would fit you. I was just waiting for the right moment to ask you to marry me. I wasn't sure if you were ready yet."

My eyes filled with tears, and I didn't even attempt to hold them back. "I'm very ready."

He took the ring from the box, and I held out my hand. "I'll marry you, Mel. I'd marry you tomorrow if I could. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

The ring fit perfectly. Of course it did. Once it was on my hand, I leaned in and kissed him until I was out of breath. "I love you, Deputy."

His blue eyes shone. "I'll love you forever."

Yeah, he would. I was the luckiest man on the planet.

Thank you for reading!