She lets out a shivering moan and places her head against my chest.
“Sorry if I seemed a little weird. I guess I was trying to process it.”
“No, no,” I growl. “I understand. I feel like I’m floating. I feel like I’m in heaven. This is amazing, Macie. This is… the beginning of our lives, the true beginning, the day we’ll look back on and say, That’s it, that’s where our family started.”
“The first of our five, huh?” She smiles up at me in that adorable way of hers. “Or maybe we’ll get, you know, whatever the five versions of quadruplets is.”
“The five version of quadruplets?” I laugh banteringly, kissing her cheek.
“You know what I mean.”
“I love you, Macie,” I say passionately. “I love you and I love our baby and I love our life.”
“I love you too,” she whispers.
I lean down and kiss her hard, claiming her lips. She moans through the kiss in that way I’ve come to understand well, the way that gets my body stirring, as my woman leaps up and wraps her legs around me, confident I’ll catch her.
And I do.
I always will.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Macie
I type the last paragraph of the novel, a smile spreading across my face as my fingers flutter over the keys, typing the words I’ve been dreaming of for weeks.
Part of me wanted to write the final paragraph before I’d written the rest of the story, but I forced myself to hold back because I wanted this moment to matter.
I wanted the end to truly be the end… even if it’s not, even if there are edits and submissions and all that jazz.
But for now, for the time being, when I type the final word – outlining how the giant and the woman find a happy corner of the world to raise their children – it really is the end of the story.
I sit back and let out a long breath, looking across the room to where baby Keira sleeps in her crib. I save and backup my work, and then stand and walk over to the crib, staring down at her as she sleeps.
Her breath rises and falls softly, a sleepy smile on her face as she makes the cutest sounds imaginable.
When she was first born I’d watch her sleep for hours on end, fascinated by every little thing she did, and that hasn’t changed.
I could watch her for the next ten years and never get bored…
Even if, logistically, that would make no sense.
Somehow I don’t think she’d want me looming over her bed when she’s ten.
I giggle at the thought, and then I realize there are tears in my eyes, hot tears of pure happiness.
This past year has been the best of my life, without any contest.
Sure, writing my book took a little longer than expected, what with the pregnancy and the wedding planning and the absolute joy of being Miller’s wife.
But the story is over now and everything else has gone so amazingly.
We’ve built an incredible home together.
We’ve brought Keira into this world.
We’re married and – even after the pregnancy and all that it brings – Miller still looks at me the same way he did when he first claimed me, when he fell upon me like the savage he is.
I turn when I hear him approaching behind me.
He’s wearing his workout gear, his shirt sticky with sweat, outlining his irrepressible muscles as he strolls over to me and places his hand on my shoulder. I shiver under his touch, gazing up into the dark intensity of his eyes, an intensity that promises never to fade no matter how much time passes.
He gives my shoulder a squeeze and leans forward, kissing the top of my head. I inhale the sweaty musky scent of him, the same way I would when I was pregnant and the hormones would cause the scent to drive me crazy, lust hammering through me with every moment I spent near my man.
“Look at our angel sleep,” he murmurs, smiling down at her with pure happiness glimmering in his eyes, the sort of unfettered joy I never would’ve expected from his grim-set face when I first walked into his office a lifetime ago.
“I can’t stop,” I whisper. “She’s so captivating.”
“Just like her mother.” He kisses the top of my head again, pulling me into a hug. “You know why I love you, Macie?”
“Why’s that, Dr. Good?”
He chuckles at the new nickname, Dr. Good short for Dr. Too-Good-To Be-True. I started calling him that in the lead-up to our wedding when his happiness was unbridled. When he was smiling more often than not.
“You used to be Dr. Devil,” I told him. “Always scowling, smirking but never smiling… but now look at you. Dr. Good, that’s what I’m going to call you.”
He gives me some banter about the nickname sometimes, but I can tell he likes it, laughing every time I toss it his way.