I walk a little closer, wrapping my arms around her again, and she kisses my chin.
“I love you,” I mumble into her neck. Right under her ear, in the place that drives her crazy. “I love you so fucking much, G.”
“You’ve told me, baby. In so many more ways than words. I remember every single time, too.” She stands up on her toes, closing the sliver of distance still barely between us, and kisses me with reverence. Her beautiful mouth meets mine, and I feel a sense of relief wash over me. The fact that we finally get to do this. Be in this together. Fight and fuck. Love each other. It’s an indescribable feeling. One that, long ago, I resigned myself to believe would never happen for us.
“I need to try out that shower,” she says as she lets go of my neck and leans back. She drags her hands toward the hem of her shirt and lifts it off.
She turns, and just as she crosses the threshold to the bathroom, she damn near kills me again when she says, “Hanky, there is one thing I’d like to change.”
“What’s that, Pixie?” I ask with a smile. Because who knows what the hell she’s going to come up with.
“I want your last name.”
EPILOGUE
Giselle
I’ve been backin Strutt’s Peak for just over two weeks now, and life is pretty fucking delicious. It took a few days to get back into the flow of work. Hideaway Ink is as busy as usual. My clients were thrilled to be back on the schedule. But I’ve decided to only do tattoos in the late afternoon and evenings now. I try to keep most of them booked from Thursday through Saturday, so that mine and Henry’s work life is synched. The rest of the days, and our mornings especially, we spend together. I’ll fit in a piercing here and there, and I still take classes with Mac at the gym regularly. And of course, I spend plenty of time with Everly. But most of my time is spent with my flyboy.
He’s been drawing on my back for an hour now. I don’t even know if he realizes he does it. Every night and every morning, he glides his fingers around my skin in lines, letters, and numbers. It’s so relaxing that I don’t ever want him to stop. Two more drags across my back, and then I’ll turn over, and then go brush my teeth so I can kiss his beautiful face and mouth good morning. He drags his fingers from left to right, always restarting once the sequence is complete. I figured out what he was drawing on me that first night we’d slept together. On the island. I think I was already aware that I loved him by then, but the movement of his fingers and what he drew on me was the piece that made me realize there was nobody else for me. I was always meant to have him.
“You’ve drawn the quadratic formula across my skin countless times, but the question I have for you, sir, is do you know what it’s used for?” I turn over, and I’m met with the sexiest, tired face with wild bedhead.
He curls a piece of my hair around his finger and moves it behind my ear. Smiling a lazy morning smile, he says, “Yeah, Pixie. It’s used to make you fall in love with me.”
“Well, it worked.”
I move my hand to his face, but as I lift it, I notice something that wasn’t there before. I tilt my head back to get a better look, smiling in awe as I do. On my left ring finger sits a beautiful emerald cut diamond attached to a brushed matte-black band. It’s exactly what I would want if I had ever thought about what I wanted. But the truth is, I never allowed it.
“Take my last name if you want it. The rest of me is already yours, Pixie.”
I don’t know when I started crying, but as I kiss him and drape my body on top of his, I hear small sobs break loose from my throat.
“What do you say? Can I have you forever?” he asks as he wipes the tears falling down my nose and cheeks.
I sit up slightly to look at the ring again, then back into his beautiful eyes.Damn, this man. The greens and the splash of blue. I memorize again the lines of where his scruff meets the smoothness of his cheeks. The white line that brushes his upper lip. All the parts of him that are imperfect, but when you put them together, they make up the most incredible face I’ve ever seen. And that’s not even the best part of him. I put my hand over his chest, right where his heart beats.The best part.
“The truth is, baby, that I want all of it. Your name, your family, a life with you. Whatever that might look like for us.” I look down at his lips. “I want to kiss you whenever I think about your mouth.”Kiss.“I want to fight with you.”Kiss. “I want to make up with you.”Kiss. “But mostly, I just want you to cook for me.” I kiss him again, laughing. He pinches my sides, causing a fit of laughter, and the very graceful flailing of my body. I twist away and jump from the bed.
“Get back here, Pixie. I need to fuck you to seal this deal,” he tells me with clenched teeth.
Well, how do I run away from a request like that? I jump back into the warm bed, and he curls his body around me.
He asks, “Are you happy?”
I bite on my already puffy bottom lip and run my fingers over his scruffed jawline.
I nod. “You’re not so predictable, after all, Henry.” I pause and look around his face.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“That this is how it was always supposed to be.” He rubs his nose against mine. Soft touches that feel like so much more with him. “Me and you, Pixie.”
And as mushy as it might sound. Or as serendipitous as it may seem. It’s our truth. Henry is my anchor. My constant, regardless of the adventure. My safe place. My home. The piece of my life’s equation that, at its root, was always meant to equal us as a pair.
Quite plainly, he was always meant to find me, try to hate me, protect me, and irrevocably, love me.
* * *