Second Epilogue

SECOND EPILOGUE

Ten years later

I watch from the doorway as Lucy moves to the front of the studio, speaking in a low, soothing voice. Her class of expecting mothers are stretched out on their mats, watching her with rapt attention. There’s a serene glow about them that has everything to do with Lucy and how she makes people feel.

Lucy settles herself into a graceful kneeling position, her hands resting lightly on her big, pregnant belly. She’s so darn gorgeous in her turquoise tank top and tight yoga pants. Even after all these years, she takes my breath away.

“Take a deep breath in,” she says. “And as you exhale, honor your body and the new life you’re creating inside it. You’re stronger than you know.”

All the women press their hands together, and “namaste” echoes around the room.

The women gather up their things. They’re eager to talk to Lucy as they leave. I see how they hang on her every word, and she patiently answers all their questions, handing out hugs and words of reassurance.

“Is the class going ahead next week?” a quiet young woman asks.

Lucy pats her belly. “Yes, as long as baby number four doesn’t have other plans,” she says.

The woman snickers sympathetically, and I can’t fight the grin that spreads across my face. Baby number four. My fourth cub. The thought of it still hits me like a freight train. Sometimes I wake up and I can’t believe that we’ve built this life together, Lucy and me. A house full of cubs, a business that we both love, and a love that has grown roots deeper than the pines around us.

When the last of the women filters out, Lucy goes to tidy up the room.

“Stop right there.” I step out from my spot beside a support post.

Her smile when she sees me is wide and delighted, the kind of smile that’s always made me feel like the luckiest bear alive.

“Hey, you,” she says, straightening with a hand on her lower back. “Didn’t expect you back so early.”

“I got all our chores done quick. Wanted to make sure you didn’t think about clearing up in here.”

“Oh, it’s not much, Preston.”

“But we agreed—yoga, good for the baby, apparently. Picking up heavy shit—not good.”

She grins. “Okay, okay.”

“How was the class?”

“Good,” she says, sweeping her pretty blonde hair out of her face. “It’s been the usual—stretching, breathing, trying to convince a room full of tired, cranky moms-to-be that they’re goddesses.”

“Well, one of them is,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist. I never get tired of this feeling. Her, me, and the little cub between us. Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. She never does.

“Now, I’m gonna take you home.”

“Oh, is that so?” she says, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to smile.

“Class is over, sunshine. Time for you to rest.”

“Rest?” she repeats, arching a brow. “You’re the last person who ever lets me rest.”

“Can’t help it,” I say, running a hand over her belly. “You looking like this, all soft and glowing. It’s dangerous.”

She snorts, but her breath catches when I slide my hand to her hip and pull her closer. She’s small in my arms, but yoga has made her so strong and flexible. I brush my lips along her temple, and she melts against me, her hands resting on my chest.

“I’ve gotta plan for my next class,” she murmurs, though she makes no move to pull away from me.

“It can wait,” I say, my voice rough. “I can’t.”

Her breath hitches, and I know I’ve got her. Her lips are already on mine, soft and teasing. It’s a kiss that starts slow, but the heat builds fast, just like it always does with her. My hands are everywhere—her back, her hips, the curve of her belly—like I can’t decide where to touch her first.

When I finally pull back, she’s flushed, her breathing uneven, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes that tells me she’s as worked up as I am. “Fine,” she says, her voice full of mischief. “Take me home.”

It’s not far to the cabin we built together, tucked against the edge of the woods, the pines stretching tall around it. The air smells of sun-warmed cedar, and the quiet feels sacred in a way that only Twin Falls can. By the time we’re inside, the rest of the world feels a million miles away. For once, it’s just the two of us, as my mom is looking after our three terrors until this evening. I’ve got a feeling this is the last time we’ll be alone before our little one arrives, and I’m going to cherish every second.

I set Lucy down on the couch, kneeling in front of her to help her take off her shoes. She laughs softly, leaning forward to brush her fingers through my hair. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“You make me that way,” I murmur, looking up at her. And it’s true. I was a different man before her—a grizzly with more claws than heart. She’s changed all of that. Given me something worth protecting. Worth living for.

I slide my hands up her calves, her knees, her thighs, watching the way her body reacts under my touch. She shivers, her breath hitching again, and I’m already thinking about how I’m going to show her just how much she means to me. How lucky I am that she’s mine.

I press my lips to hers, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s hungry and deep. She melts against me, her body soft and warm in all the ways that drive me wild. I lay her back and undress her carefully, worshipping every curve, every inch of her that’s brought so much light into my life.

And as I make love to her—gently, so I don’t hurt her pregnant belly—the magic of ten years of joy and growth and laughter surrounds us. She’s given me everything—three cubs (soon to be four), a home, and a purpose I never thought I’d find. And I’ll spend the rest of my life giving her everything in return.

THE END