“You’ve made us a real family, Karen.”
“You did,” Colt agrees, and I can’t find the right words for a moment such as this.
They’ve said it all; we’re a real family now.22KarenEpilogue“Dinner’s ready,” Daniel shouts from the kitchen, and I open one eye lazily, stretching my arms and sitting up on the couch. I yawn, looking at the clock on my phone and realizing that I must’ve fallen asleep. And these two didn’t even bother to wake me up; they just went right ahead and got dinner ready while I was asleep. It sure feels good to be treated like a princess; that much is for sure.
I run one hand through my hair, tidying it up, and then go up to my feet and walk to the kitchen. Daniel is down on one knee, taking something out of the oven, and Colt is busy uncorking a bottle of red wine, a small kitchen towel draped over his shoulder.
“You two look lovely,” I tell them, gently smiling, and Colt grabs the towel on his shoulder and throws it at my face. I move out of the way quickly, avoiding it, but by the time I turn my attention back to Colt he’s already on me, his hands on my waist.
“No, you look lovely,” he whispers, looking into my eyes with more than just lust; there’s love there.
“She does look lovely,” Daniel says, coming up to us and placing one hand on my waist and the other on Colt’s. “And do you know what else looks lovely? Dinner.”
“Agreed, I’m starving,” I tell them, pulling back from their embrace and ambling down to the table. The plates are already there, red napkins neatly folded under the cutlery and the open bottle of wine sitting on the center.
It’s been like this every day for the last year. Since we saw my mother for the last time, we finally became a real family. Sure, the three of us always end the day by fucking to exhaustion, and that makes us a rather unusual family, but a family nonetheless. And a happy one.
I serve the tray-baked chicken Daniel cooked for us as Colt pours the wine, and there’s a moment of silence as we look into each other’s eyes. I smile, and God, this last year it seems there’s always a smile on my face.
I could tell you that we moved to Paris or something, or that we live in a huge palace and own private jets and all that. But it’s nothing like that, really: we live in the same old house, and our daily routine is a simple one. Yeah, we splurged on a huge bed for the master bedroom, but that’s about it.
You see, it’s not about the money or living large. Even though Daniel, with the help of Colt and yours truly, eventually managed to turn the family business around, we never felt the need to act like millionaires or whatever. We have our investments, and all that money in the bank, but we barely think of it. Really, I’m not joking.
We realized that, as long as we remain together, nothing else matters. We have love and that’s enough, right? Sure, alright, I’ll admit it; having a few million in the bank doesn’t hurt, yeah. But that’s just an afterthought.
Last I heard of my mother, she was being chased by the federal authorities because of fraudulent business dealings. They never actually found her, and our working theory is that she fled to some backwater country in Europe, which I’m fine with. As long as she remains out of our lives, I don’t care about what happens to her.
“Are you okay?” Daniel asks, reaching across the table and placing his hand on top of mine. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I was just thinking. This is nice, isn’t it?” I ask, looking from Daniel to Colt with a soft smile on my lips.
“What?” they both ask me, almost at the same time.
“Just being here. Together.”
“Is it,” they reply, once again saying it almost in unison. I reach for my glass and take a sip out of the wine, allowing its oak and cinnamon taste to coat my tongue. This is what happiness is all about, these small moments of joy and family. The small things usually are the most important ones, don’t you think?
We finish dinner, and one more bottle of wine, and then I take the lead on cleaning up. They protest, of course, but since they were the chefs for the night, it’s only logical that I’m the one washing the dishes.
I’m standing by the dishwasher, finishing it off, when I feel Daniel’s warm breath on my neck, his hands settling comfortably on my hips.
“You know, you look so fucking sexy with that apron on,” he whispers into my ear. I turn on my heels to face him, my heart skipping a beat as I feel his body pressed against mine. Placing one hand on his chest, I slide it down to his belt and then further down to his crotch. His cock’s already hard, straining against the fabric of his jeans and pushing back on my fingers.