Epilogue

epilogue

Five years later

Harmony

This autumn wedding is the prettiest I've ever been invited to.

The small ceremony takes place on a stone bridge over a creek in the middle of the woods, the sunset casting a magnificent glow through the red and gold canopy of trees.

The wedding invitation surprised me when it arrived a month ago. The non disclosure agreement that came with it? Not at all surprising, considering Esme's reputation for secrecy.

I'd only met the bride once before, and the moment was a highlight of my year.

Seeing that tiny woman smiling up at her imposing groom makes my heart happy. Their entire story makes me swoon. It's a Christmas story for the ages.

Ten months later, I still wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, but Sagan is perfect for Esme. He dotes on her the same way Cooper does for me.

Following the ceremony, the group of about thirty guests is shuttled to the main house, where the Gilded Age dining room, with its gigantic marble fireplace, rich wood walls, and ornately coffered ceilings, is decked out in autumn florals and dazzling golden candlelight. Many familiar faces from my hometown are seated around the table, including several of Sagan's former employees at the tattoo shop.

"The ratio of tattoos to guests is blowing my mind," my older sister Mills murmurs as the servers pour the wine and fill the water glasses at the intimate dinner reception.

I smile. "Just being here is blowing my mind."

"Is Summer still salty about not being invited?" Mills asks. Her husband, Hayden, sits on her other side, chatting with Esme. He and Esme have known each other through various philanthropic connections, which is something I'm only just beginning to grasp, having married into a billionaire family. It's only coincidence — or perhaps fate — that he and I both received invitations.

"Let's find out," I say, taking my phone out of my bag and texting Summer. Mills and I laugh when Summer sends multiple photos of her with our daughter Lia and her cousins Quentin, Natali, and little Gabriella posing with tiaras.

"We're having our own princess wedding," Summer texts back. The next photo shows Carter and Owen wearing tiaras, their faces smeared with makeup that's clearly been applied by a gaggle of ruthless children.

I turn to the man on my left, Cooper, the love of my life, and show him the photos.

Cooper's hearty laugh warms my soul as it did when we met. "Living the dream, I see."

The whole Mosley family is living the dream.

After where we came from, it's more than what I ever could have dreamed up for my life.

Little Spoon has performed so well that my sister and I opened a franchise in Gold Hill this year. This time next year, we may have enough profit margin to hire full time managers so that Summer and I can work less. Cooper and Carter would prefer to simply front us the money it would take to hire enough people to run the businesses independently. But Summer and I insist on things growing organically. We're so grateful that they funded us out of pocket initially, but Little Spoon needs to fund itself from now on.

"I love our life," I tell Cooper. "I just wanted you to know that."

Cooper sets the phone on the table face down and reaches for me. He never fails to take my breath away when he cups the back of my neck and draws me in for a passionate kiss.

The rest of the room fades away, and I all know is us. My Cooper has a way of making me feel so adored. Sexy. Desired. Loved.

When he pulls away from the kiss, all eyes are on us. The blushing bride raises her glass. "These two are sharing secrets to a happy marriage," Esme says.

Cooper's hand goes to my curved belly. I sense his energy changing, growing hungrier by the moment. The exquisitely crafted dinner that follows does nothing to abate what he needs.

Following the entree, all the guests are invited to take a tour of the castle, with the assistance of the house staff. Cooper and I join the tour as the employees share entertaining anecdotes about the Bryant family and the architecture. But I can sense my husband's impatience. We're supposed to meet in the ballroom later for cake and dancing.

At one point, Cooper hangs back from the tour group, inordinately interested in an old family portrait. I retreat back to urge him to keep up with the tour.

When I take Cooper's hand, he snatches me in his arms, backing me into a side room through a relatively hidden door.

I shriek, but he covers my mouth, closing the door behind him.

He removes his hand from my mouth, and I'm both livid and turned on.

"What are you doing?" I cry. "Where are we?"

He backs me against a vast, empty table that spans almost the entire room. Along the wall are shelves of vases, and I realize this is a particular room set aside for flower arranging or something.

He lifts me onto the table and hooks my leg around his middle.

"What am I doing? The new baby will be here soon enough. I'm having a moment with my delicious, pregnant wife."

I gasp as my husband's hands hitch up my dress. His mouth against my throat has my panties soaking instantly.

"We're not supposed to be in here," I whisper. And yet, I'm not putting a stop to any of this.

"I know," he growls as I grip him closer, taking him in, inhaling his scent with every gasping breath.

Cooper's kisses steal my breath and my sense of propriety. Any average couple, feeling swept up in the romance of a wedding, might tame themselves enough to wait until they were safely ensconced in the privacy of their home.

But my husband brings out my adventurous side.

And I can't wait to see what adventures still await us.

THE END