Page 85 of Owning Emma

Epilogue

SHAW

TWO YEARS LATER

Trigger crawledon my shoulders as I worked in the dining room. He meowed in my ear before purring so loud, the sound radiated through the room. He rubbed his furry little head against my cheek, and I reached up, patting his soft fur between the ears. He was my Christmas present from Emma this past Christmas, a replacement for that stray cat I loved way back when we got together, the one we found gutted. Trigger and I had become almost inseparable, almost like he was a kid, and I seriously couldn’t have gotten a better present.

Well, except an actual real kid. But, well, that’s a work in progress.

I smiled at the thought. I couldn’t even object to all the work we’d put in. It had been the best damn time of my whole life.

“I’m almost done, boy,” I told Trigger as he rubbed against my ear.

“That’s what you said two hours ago,” Emma declared as she paddled into the room, going straight for the carafe of coffee and refilling her cup.

“Has it been two hours?” I feigned ignorance.

“It’s been two hours and you know it.” She crossed her arms in front of her, pushing up those perky, little breasts of hers, causing my mouth to water.

I shook my head, trying not to get distracted. “It’s tax season. We have a lot of business shit to take care of.”

“Shaw. I’m asking you. No, correct that . . . I am begging you. Do not make me late to the surprise party that I am hosting.”

“Babe. You won’t be late. And even if I’m running behind, that’s not stopping you from trudging your sweet behind over there yourself.”

“If you ruin this . . .” her little finger pushed into my face. “No sex for a week.”

“You can’t use that threat forever, you know.” I captured her finger in mine, pulling it to my lips for a kiss.

“Shaw.”

“Five minutes.”

“No longer.”

I tugged on a lock of her brown hair. “I promise.”

Twenty minutes later,we were piled in the hall, stuffed with Roman’s men, balloons, streamers, and all the things I knew the man would hate, if it wasn’t from Emma that is. Anything she did, he worshipped, and because of that fact, he would love the hell out of the confetti he was about to be showered with in . . .

Three . . .

Two. . .

One. . .

“Happy Birthday!” Everyone shouted, as confetti and streamers rained down from every direction.

Roman stood in the doorway, looking all sorts of confused and fuck . . . the surprised look on his face twisted my insides a bit. Eric shoved him forward, pushing him into the room as his men jostled him about, patting him on the back and wishing him another glorious year. While I stood back and watched.

It had been two years of us and not a day went by that I didn’t thank the stars and the heaven above for the luck and joy that was bestowed on me. Two perfect years. My heart sped up at the thought. My life was filled with so many things I wish I could change, but absolutely none of them involved the two people in front of me.

Roman wrapped his arm around Emma, giving her a kiss that was borderline indecent. He ignored all the catcalls and whistles, and bent her over his arm, causing her fingers to clutch into his shirt for balance. I took a mental photo, storing the image of the two of them away for later. Adding to the hundreds of images I never wanted to forget.

“Are you going to jump in?” Dottie came next to me, standing close but intentionally not touching.

“I can’t even take credit for this one, this was all one hundred percent Emma.”

Emma snuck around for the last two weeks putting all this shit together, forcing people to participate and help, and threatening everyone’s life if they didn’t show up. Not like the men cared much. They all worshiped the ground she walked on, always willing to do anything she asked them, especially when she had a plate of cookies or cupcakes in hand.

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