Page 65 of That Kiss

“I can’t believe my mom gave you this ring.” She stares down at it again. “When I was little, I’d sneak into her room, put it on, and stare at it. She caught me once and I thought I’d be in so much trouble, but she just took the chance to tell me all these amazing stories about my grandma and who she was. She said I reminded her of her mom—always ready to be out and about doing my own thing. I just wish I remembered her.”

“She told me you loved being in the garden with her when you were little. She said she’d take you around and teach you all about the flowers, and you’d chase butterflies. It made me think about when you were younger and you’d be at my Aunt Celeste’s house or my mom’s house and you’d run around trying to catch bees.” I laugh, remembering how many times we tried to explain to her that the bees could hurt her. “Once, you refused to listen, and you got stung right here.” I pull her hand up and show her where, on the edge of her palm.

“I remember that.” She smiles. “I was, like, maybe seven, and you pulled the stinger from my hand, and to stop me from crying, you kissed it.”

I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it again. “I did, and I remember it worked, because you stopped crying.”

“Yeah, I was so embarrassed,” she giggles. “I ran back around the house and told Milly that it meant you were my boyfriend, and she wouldn’t stop teasing me after that.” We both laugh, launching into story after story—some that have us doubled over in laughter, others making us wonder how we ever denied our feelings for each other.

We settle down on the blanket, enjoying our food and wine as the sun begins to sink slowly beneath the mountains. I wrap an extra blanket I brought around us both as we look out over the valley.

“We should head back soon; I don’t like making Clementine walk down the mountain in the dark.” I rest my arms against her, my lips trailing warm kisses down the exposed skin of her neck. “But first, there’s one thing I need to do.”

She sighs. “And what’s that?”

“I want to make love to my fiancée while the sun sets.”

She spins around, climbing into my lap as her lips find mine. She wastes no time, her hands urgently undoing my belt as our tongues dance against one another.

“Take me,” she pants against my mouth, her fingers wrapping around my rigid cock as she begins to stroke me. “Make me yours.”

That’s the only encouragement I need. I roll her to her back, tugging her jeans and panties down her thighs so I can devour her. She’s already wet, her sweet arousal hitting my nostrils and exploding on my tongue.

“You are mine,” I climb up her body, pinning her hands above her head as I position myself at her entrance. I slide inside. “Every inch of you.” I slide in deeper, a moan tumbling from her lips. “You understand, baby? Mine.”

“Yes, I’m yours,” she groans, her back arching when I slide in further. Her walls clench against me. “Only yours.”

“That’s right,” I grit the words out between clenched teeth. My body trembles from holding back. I begin to move, the strokes long and deep, the way she likes it. “Look at me, sweetheart, keep your eyes on me,” I coach her, my lips just above hers as I piston my hips. “And for the rest of your life, I’m going to be the only man who tastes you,” I kiss her, “fucks you,” I kiss her again, “and makes your body come undone completely, the way you are right now.”

“Oh, oh, I’m coming!” Her words are garbled as she squeezes her thighs against my hips. “Yesssss.”

I bury my face in her neck, releasing her hands as my own body finds its release. I stare down at her when we’ve both finished, her eyes heavy and glassy.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

I run my thumb across her pink lips. “These lips—these delicious, tempting lips.” I lean in and kiss her gently. “One kiss from you was all it took to break the spell that had me so confused, so lost. One kiss was all it took to make me realize you were always meant to be mine.”

Epilogue-Juniper

Eight Months Later . . .

“Are you nervous?” My dad looks over at me, my arm looped through his as my mom straightens out my veil.

“Not one single bit,” I say confidently.

My parents’ backyard has been transformed into a garden fairyland. My mother’s roses, which have grown around a large white trestle over the last several years, serve as the backdrop of our wedding. Bouquets of wildflowers are tied to the chairs that line the aisle.

I’ve enjoyed every second of wedding planning—something I hadn’t really thought twice about previously, if I’m honest. But maybe the excitement comes with who you’re marrying. Knowing that Decker and I were going to stand before all of our family and friends, and pledge our love and devotion to one another at the end of all of it, was a fairytale ending I never imagined would happen.

“You look so beautiful.” My mom kisses my cheek, giving my hands one last squeeze.

“Thank you, Mom. Now please go sit down before you start crying again, because it’s going to make me cry.”

After my mom scurries to her seat, my dad looks at me one last time. “I know he’s going to take care of you,” his chin quivers and he clears his throat, “and love you, but you’re still my little girl, so don’t ever hesitate to still ask your dad for advice now and then.”

I pull him into a hug, not needing to say anything for him to know exactly what I’m feeling. It’s a mix of excitement as I’m starting a new life with the man I love, but walking away from my parents, who have been by my side for the last 24 years now. I know marriage won’t be easy just because Deck and I are made for each other. I also know that our love will probably be put to the test . . . but there’s no one else I’d rather face all of life’s adventures and obstacles with.

“Are you ready to marry your soulmate, sweetheart?”

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