44. Maggie

Maggie

Epilogue - Six Months Later

G rayson stands beside me at Henrietta's house, looking dashing in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, while I feel radiant in my wedding dress. The ceremony was small but deeply meaningful, with laughter and joy spreading across the lush green yard of Henrietta's La Jolla home. The sound of waves crashing in the background provided the perfect soundtrack for our special day.

My new nephews, dressed in tiny suits, dart around the yard, Nerf guns in hand. I'm not sure who armed them, but they've made it their mission to shoot everyone in attendance. Henrietta's dog, Murphy, sporting a black bow tie, chases after them, his tail wagging as he revels in the chaos.

I sit at a table, sipping champagne, the bubbles tickling my nose as I watch everything unfold. After a few minutes, Tommy drops into the seat next to me, the plastic chair creaking under his weight.

"Hey, cuz," he says, smiling, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Congrats again." He downs what I think is scotch, the sharp scent of alcohol wafting between us.

"You've told me that about ten times tonight."

"Getting married is a big deal. An achievement," he says with a hint of bitterness.

I glance across the yard, where Tilly is laughing with Sam. I frown slightly, knowing how much she resists marriage.

"Tommy, come on," I say, rolling my eyes with a soft laugh.

"What?" he asks, his brow furrowing. He has the cutest little frown. The man can't look stern or mean—it's like watching a puppy try to be fierce with a kitten.

Setting down my champagne flute, I lean closer to him, the crisp fabric of my dress rustling. "You have twins together. You travel the world with her and them, surfing and winning. Who cares about a little slip of paper?"

He scoffs, the sound mingling with the distant crash of the ocean. "Says you. You have the stupid thing." He grabs my drink and downs that too, setting the glass down with a decisive clink.

Shaking my head, I grab his hand and pull him to his feet, the chair scraping across the patio. "Come dance with the bride."

He tries to resist, but he's had a bit to drink, so it's easy to persuade him. I wrap my arms around his neck, swaying to the soft music drifting over the yard. "Tell me something fun."

His eyes go unfocused as we sway before a broad grin spreads across his face. "Oh, shit!" He smacks his forehead, looking mischievous. Leaning closer, his scotch-laced breath invades my personal space. "Your ‘bro of honor' was making out with my mother in the kitchen."

"No!" I yell, causing several dancers to glance our way. Instead of having a maid of honor, I'd asked Harry to stand beside me.

"Oh yeah, he had a handful of her ass." He giggles, then frowns. "I told them to get a room, and my Ma says—and I quote—‘We plan to.'"

I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the air. "That's my mother!" Tommy protests.

There's a tap on my shoulder, and I let go of Tommy to spin around, expecting Grayson to ask to cut in. Instead, I see my cousin Jade, smiling sheepishly. "Hey, Mrs. Parker."

I throw my arms around her, the soft fabric of my dress crinkling between us. I knew she was coming and had seen her sitting with her date. "Jade!" I squeal. Maybe I've had a bit more champagne than I realized. She giggles with me. "I can't believe you're married first," she teases, playfully slapping my arm, her eyes twinkling.

Looking around, I spot her date—a handsome man in a fantastically tailored tux, his hair styled to perfection. "You never know, you might be next." I wiggle my eyebrows, teasing.

"Oh god no!" she exclaims, making a gagging sound. "Davie!" she calls, and Mr. Perfect hustles over. She grabs his arm and points to me. "This is my cousin, Margaret Parker."

"Maggie," I correct, extending a hand with a wide, welcoming smile.

"Pleasure, Maggie." He takes my hand and places a soft kiss on my knuckles. "You look positively radiant."

My hand flies to my heart, warmed by his sincerity. "Why, thank you!"

Jade looks at Davie with a sparkle in her eyes. "Maggie here thinks we might be walking down the aisle next." Davie doubles over, laughing loudly, the sound infectious.

I glance between them, unsure what the joke is. When Davie finally collects himself, he stands straight, tucking his hands into his pockets, the fabric of his tux crinkling. "Sorry. I love you, Jade, but not happening." His eyes scan the crowd before landing on my new husband. "I'd be more interested in that little snack."

My face flushes, not because Davie is gay, but because I agree. "He's fucking hot, isn't he?" I say, breathless. Grayson catches my eye and winks, a mischievous glint in his gaze that makes my knees weak.

"Oh yeah. I bet he's swinging a hammer too." Jade smacks Davie's arm with a scoff, but I bite my lip. "He certainly is," I admit, feeling my cheeks heat.

Jade grabs my hands, pulling my focus back to her as the music swirls around us. "You have to come visit. See our arcade."

"Super Parker's Arcade," Davie adds proudly. "It really is amazing. Jade did a fantastic job."

"Definitely. My son…" I pause, relishing the word. Clearing my throat, I continue. "He loves the one you gave me. I bet he'd lose his mind in a room full of options."

Our conversation is interrupted as the wedding coordinator rushes over, clipboard in hand, heels clicking on the grass. "Hey, Maggie, we're ready for the first dance." On cue, a romantic song fills the air. I give Jade a quick hug. "Find me later, Jade!" I say in a hushed tone.

"Call me Parker, or I won't," she whispers back with a small laugh. I feel a firm hand on my shoulder and turn around to find Grayson standing before me, a beautiful smile on his lips, his eyes reflecting the joy of the day.

"Wife?" He holds out his hand, and I take it, our fingers fitting together perfectly. With a strong move, he pulls me into his arms, the warmth of his body seeping into mine. The music swells, and we begin to sway, lost in each other's eyes, the world around us fading away.

"If you're here with someone special, please join the happy couple as they celebrate their love." Couples join us on the dance floor, including George, who's dancing with TJ—though it's more like jumping around while Murphy barks. But I'm completely captivated by Grayson, the man who has irrevocably changed my life.

In a moment of passion, I lean in for a kiss, but it quickly deepens into a fervent, tongue-driven embrace. Cheers and whoops erupt from some of the guests, and I can't help but laugh, the joy of the moment overwhelming me, echoing in the night air.

"Let's hear it for Mr. and Mrs. Grayson Parker!" The DJ announces enthusiastically.

But as we bask in the applause, a loud thump from behind causes me to turn around abruptly, my dress swirling around my legs.

Roger lies on the dance floor, curled up in pain. Standing over him is Miranda, her face flushed with anger. They must have been dancing, which is odd enough. Though maybe not as much since learning about their little tryst in the office. We still haven't gotten the full story out of her. Only that 'something' happened. She points a finger at him, shaking with fury. "Touch my ass like that again, and I'll cut you!" Miranda yells, much to the amusement of nearly every guest.

I think I hear Roger mumble something about the pain being "worth it," a weak grin on his face.

Excitement rushes through me. Weddings are nothing without a little drama, and right now, my bingo card is full. Ma making out with Harry, Tommy drunk and lamenting Tilly's commitment issues, and now someone getting hit in the balls. It's perfect.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" Grayson asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Nodding, I kiss his cheek, savoring the softness of his skin. "Fucking amazing." When I pull back, his lids are hooded, a fire igniting in the sliver of iris I can see. I know that look. He wants to start the honeymoon early.

"Know what would make it even better?" I whisper in his ear. By his resounding growl, he definitely knows.

With a laugh, I scoop up the bottom of my dress, gripping his hand as I pull my husband away from the chaos.

"Slow down, Maggie," he says, chuckling as he follows.

"No," I snap playfully over my shoulder. But where to go? A room is too obvious—someone would find us there. Instead, I lead him through the house, ignoring the stares from some guests wandering inside. Up the stairs, I go straight into the bathroom, locking the door behind us, heat already pooling in my belly.

"What do you need?" he asks, as if he doesn't know, his voice a husky whisper.

I push him back until he falls onto the closed toilet lid, passion dripping from every word. "You, Mr. Parker. I need you." Without waiting any longer, I hike up my dress and straddle him, the fabric rustling with every movement.

"Touch me, Gray. Make me dirty," I say. He loves when I say that, and it has the intended effect. He shoves my lacy panties aside and thumbs against my clit. Despite expecting it, a gasp escapes as I feel his rough skin. He sinks a finger between my soaked folds.

"Mrs. Parker, you want more?" he asks, thrusting into me roughly, his breath hot against my neck.

I can't answer—I'm too lost in the sensation. This angle isn't enough, so I jump up, reaching behind to unzip my dress. He watches me struggle, not offering help. Bastard. He knows how badly I want this. Finally, I unzip it, the poofy white fabric falling to the floor, revealing bright pink lingerie that barely covers anything.

His eyes go wide, mouth dropping open. "Fuck me," he groans, fumbling with his hard cock still trapped in those tuxedo pants I've wanted off all night.

"That's the idea," I say, stepping back, heels clicking on the tile. My hands grip the cool bathroom sink as I bend over, exposing my thong-clad ass.

"Oh fuck," he says, scrambling to shove his pants down. I giggle, the sound bouncing off the tiles, and wiggle my ass at him. Without warning, his hand slaps against my skin.

"Yes!" I cry out, the sound mingling with the music thumping outside. No one will hear me screaming his name in a minute. He pushes my thong aside with one hand while the other runs over my stinging ass cheek.

"You want this, Maggie?"

"Gray, oh god, yes. Fuck me, now!" I moan. His tip brushes over my asshole. I'm not ready for that, and he knows it, but I love the soft pressure. Wetness coats my thighs as I whimper. Finally, he slams into my pussy. I yelp, but he knows my noises and doesn't let up. Tilting my hips, I meet him with my own thrusts.

He's already close, probably on edge all night like I've been. I know because his cock is harder than steel, swelling inside me with each slap of his balls against my clit.

"Get there, Maggie," he grunts, thrusting at a dizzying speed.

"Touch me then," I demand, definitely tipsy enough to be greedy. But he chuckles, his hand drifting from my hips to my stomach, teasing my favorite spot.

"You like that, Maggie? Like when we fuck in the bathroom?" he growls, lips sucking on my shoulder as he speeds up.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I scream. Oh, how I love when he says such naughty things. The orgasm builds like a category-five hurricane. My pussy tightens, making his cock feel impossibly bigger. Like free-falling from a plane, my body releases around him. His warmth spills into me with a roar of victory. We both stop moving, my legs shaking so much, I'm afraid I might fall over.

He slumps onto my back, kissing my skin as his cock continues to pulse inside me. As we catch our breath, I push against him one final time before spinning around, freeing his cock from between my soaked legs. Cum drips down my thigh, and I stare at it. "Guess we made a mess," I say with a laugh.

Hopefully a successful mess. I've been off birth control for a month now—a decision we made together. We want more Georgies. A whole horde of them.

He pulls his briefs and pants back into place. "God, Maggie. You're going to wreck me, aren't you?"

I smile and kiss him deeply, tasting the salt of our sweat. When we pull apart, he finds a washcloth and cleans the mess off my legs. "That's what the honeymoon is for, right?"

More heat pools in my stomach as I think of the week we'll spend alone in Hawaii. If he has his way, we won't leave the room, which is perfectly fine with me.

As I step back into my dress and start pulling it into place, he peppers kisses on my shoulder, each touch sending a thrill through me. "Stop that! They'll figure us out if we miss the cake cutting." He growls playfully, and I lean back against him as he slowly, so fucking slowly, zips up my dress.

But all the sexual tension drains when there's a knock on the door. A small voice says, "Momma Maggie? I gotta pee."

"Just a sec, baby." I shove Grayson back as he barks out a loud laugh.

"Is daddy in there with you?" George asks.

I smile as I open the door. "He is," I say honestly. Why lie? We're busted.

"Sorry, bud, her dress was caught. I had to help," Grayson says.

George frowns. "Auntie Andy says you were wrestling again and need to get a grip," he says accusingly. My face brightens, but I hold in my laughter. "You go back. I'll help him with the suit," I say to Grayson.

"You two are such a clique," he teases before ruffling George's hair.

But how could I not be? George is the icing on the cake. No, fuck that. He is the cake; Gray is the icing. I fell in love with both of them. It might have been fast and dramatic, but they're both mine now.

As Grayson walks away, he gives me a wink, and I feel the swell of love in my chest. My family—beautiful and complete with my boys at my side.

Nothing could make me happier.

The End