Juniper’s eyes light up, her smile wide, and I feel like the luckiest man in the whole damn world to have her as my wife.
EPILOGUE 3
JUNIPER
Five years later…
After I finished the Winter Fallhaven series, I truly thought I would never have another idea again. I finished Bellissima's journey to love through the mountainous, snowcapped terrain of Fallhaven and she found her happily ever after, and I thought, "Well, that's it. There is never going to be another idea again.”
I had my husband, Jacob. I had two perfect little girls, Jemima and Jacinda, and I thought, my whole life is complete. I wrote a fantastic bestselling series. I have two daughters and a husband. I live in a gorgeous turn-of-the-century mansion on the coast of Washington. My best friend, Lemon, is a few hours’ drive away. What more could I want? My life is pretty freaking fantastic.
And then on a trip to Ireland with my beautiful family in tow, inspiration takes hold. I wake up in the middle of the night. We are sleeping in a lighthouse because of course we are, Jacob is just as much of an adventurer as I am, which is not actually a surprise considering we met in Alaska in the middle of nowhere at Christmas. So, when I said I wanted to walk across Ireland for our summer holiday, he was on board.
Of course, we realized pretty quickly we couldn't actually walk across Ireland with a four-year-old and a two-year-old, but we have a little car we take from bed and breakfast to bed and breakfast and from lighthouse to lighthouse, which is where we are right now. Which is where I am sitting up right now in the middle of the night with an idea so big and so bright and so beautiful I have to get it down.
I am pulling open my laptop that I probably shouldn't have even packed, but I did. And now I'm typing furiously, drinking cup after cup of Earl Grey tea. The sun is going to rise soon, and Jacob is walking down the stairs. I hear him, the stairs are creaking. The girls are sleeping in a tiny bed upstairs with the nanny one door over.
Jacob finds me at the kitchen table. He rubs my shoulders and asks me what in the world I'm doing.
I beam up at him, looking over my shoulder into his eyes, his beard as thick and handsome as ever. God, my husband's sexy and I, well, I am awake in a way I haven't been since I finished Bellissima's story. Well, that was a different kind of awake anyways.
That was sobbing, heartbreak. Do not finish a story that means the world to you right after you give birth to your second daughter, because I was all kinds of emotional, postpartum hysterics.
It wasn't the time to end that chapter of my life because I was a crying mess for nine months straight after that. I got over it, of course, with the help of a therapist and some antidepressants and, well, the book sales were through the roof, which also helped. But now, this is electric, this is happiness that I haven't felt in a long, long time. It’s erotic, if I’m being honest.
"What has you up all night long? What are you doing?" he asks.
I get out of the chair.
"What time is it?" I ask. I couldn't even look at the clock on my laptop. I was so obsessed with typing, typing, typing this story.
"It's four thirty in the morning," he says. "I thought you were in the bathroom, but then you never came back. I woke back up and baby, what are you doing?"
"I had an idea for a story. You know I've been trying to find inspiration. And then I was in the lighthouse and I just, I got a spark."
"Do you want to tell me about it back in bed? Because we have a long day tomorrow and you're going to be exhausted, baby."
I smile, wrapping my arms around him.
"Actually, I do want to tell you all about it and I can't tell you any of it around the girls."
"No? Why not?"
"It's not actually appropriate for children's ears."
"What kind of story are we talking about?"
"Well, it's kind of sexy."
"A sexy story?" He grins. "Tell me more. Tell me fucking everything."
"Oh, I'll tell you everything while you fuck me. How about that?" I ask, laughing, as he picks me up.
His hands are on my ass. I'm not wearing any panties and he knows it as his fingers run over my thighs, under my nightgown. I wrap my legs around his waist and he carries me back up the stairs of the lighthouse. The steps creak.
"Don't wake the girls.”
“Thank God they're heavy sleepers."
When we are in our bedroom, he shuts the door. He locks it too. This might just be the place we're staying for one night, but it's all we need. I just need this moment with him alone.