Page 14 of Big Gruff Owner

“Always?”

“Always and forever.”

Epilogue

Nathan

Two years ago, I never would’ve believed this would be my life. Yet here I stand on the back porch of the house Sadie and I share, holding her hand as she giggles. She’s got a blindfold over her eyes, and every time she tries to peek, I give her a playful tap on the ass.

“Patience, sunshine,” I say, leading her down the steps. “We’re almost there.”

She laughs, the sound pure and light. “You know I’m not good at waiting, Nathan. You’re torturing me.”

I smirk, guiding her across the yard. “Just a few more steps. And keep that blindfold on, or I’m turning us around.”

She grumbles something under her breath, but I ignore it. I’ve been working on this surprise for months, ever since I found her sketching out ideas at the kitchen table. She thought I didn’t notice, but I see everything when it comes to her. It wasn’t hard to figure out what she wanted—a space of her own, somewhere she could escape to and lose herself in her art.

The old shed in the backyard was perfect. It was falling apart, but I saw the potential. After a few weeks of late nights and early mornings, it’s finally ready.

She started school as a pediatric nurse a year ago and it’s going well, but I know how desperately she’s been seeking a creative outlet. I also know that her hesitation in pursuing her art full-time is a leftover remnant of the mental abuse she experienced at the hands of the bastard who helped give her life. I’ve spent two years working to undo the impact he’s had on her, but some things hold tighter than others.

“Alright, stop right here,” I say, positioning her in front of the shed door. My heart’s pounding like I’m about to step into a firefight, but this is different. This is for her.

“Can I take it off now?” she asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Not yet,” I tell her. I reach for the door handle and slowly push it open, the scent of fresh paint and wood polish wafting out. “Okay, now.”

Sadie rips off the blindfold, blinking against the sudden light. She stares ahead, her mouth falling open as she takes in what I’ve done. The shed is unrecognizable. The walls are painted a soft, calming blue, her favorite color. There’s a skylight in the roof, letting in natural light, and the floor is covered in drop cloths, ready for her to make a mess. Easels, shelves filled with canvases and supplies, a cozy little seating area—all of it just for her.

“Nathan,” she breathes, stepping inside like she’s afraid it’ll disappear if she moves too fast. “You… you did this for me?”

“Who else?” I reply, leaning against the doorframe as I watch her explore. She runs her fingers over the brushes and paints, her eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, turning to look at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

I push off the doorframe and walk over to her, pulling her into my arms. “You deserve it, sunshine. You deserve everything.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, standing on her toes to kiss me. I kiss her back, slow and deep, taking my time. We’ve been through a lot and it hasn’t always been easy. Getting her father away from her, dealing with the court dates, moving, accepting the gossip in town about our age difference—it’s been something the last two years. But moments like this make it all worth it.

When she finally pulls back, she’s smiling, her cheeks flushed. “You know,” she says, her voice teasing, “I’ve been thinking about doing something special in here.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” I ask, though I have a feeling I know where this is going.

“I’ve been wanting to do a nude,” she says, biting her lip as her eyes drop to my chest. “And I think you’d be the perfect model.”

I chuckle, low and rough. “Is that right? Well, I suppose I could be convinced.”

Sadie grins, stepping back and grabbing a canvas from the shelf. She sets it up on the easel, then looks at me expectantly. “Take off your clothes, Marine.”

There’s something about the way she says it that sends a jolt of heat through me. I don’t hesitate, stripping off my shirt first, then my jeans and boxers. My length springs free, already hard and curving upwards. Her eyes roam over my body, and I see the way her breath quickens, her cheeks reddening.

“Like what you see?” I ask, my voice dropping.

“Always,” she says, her voice breathless.

I smirk, stepping closer to her. “Your turn, little girl.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She peels off her shirt, then her pants. Her panties and bra follow quickly after. I can’t resist the urge to touch her, running my hands over her soft skin, and feeling her shiver under my touch.

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