Page 115 of Between Now and Always

He leans in and we seal our promise with a kiss.

Extended Epilogue

After Always

CARTER

TEN YEARS LATER

Houston, TX

The splash of warm water against my back is the only warning I have before I feel Beth’s soft body pressed against me. I turn and she loops her arms around my neck and uses the water’s buoyancy to lift herself up and wrap her legs around my waist.

I wrap her in a hug and then slide my hands to palm each of her ass cheeks for a squeeze.

Her lips move against my earand I can feel the vibration of whatever she’s saying against my chest.

“I can’t hear you,” I shout over the music blasting from the speakers mounted all over this part of our backyard.

She says something in reply, but the music is too loud for me to make it out.

I tug her arms, but she holds on tighter. The sound she’s making resonates, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.

She resists my tug, but I’m strong than her. I peelher wet, bikini-clad chest off mine until I can see her face. She’s pouting.

“I can’t hear you,” I enunciate my words, but don’t bother raising my voice, she wouldn’t hear me, no matter how loud I spoke.

She reads my lips and her eyes wide in understanding.

“Ohhhh.” Her plush pink lips pucker to form the word. She turns her head almost 90 degrees to the right, then to the left, to look around our packed backyard.

Her hands slide up my water slicked shoulders and link behind my neck, almost absently, and I watch her while she takes in the carnival like atmosphere in our backyard.

She’s beautiful, even more so now than she was at twenty-one. I admire the tanned and creamy skin of her shoulders and make a note of the new freckles that have joined the constellation I’ve been mapping over the decade we’ve been married.

Her hair is short again. I love it. But I don’t let myself get too attached to it. My wife is a creature of habit. Except when it comes to her hair. She grows it long. Sometimes, all the waydownto the middle of her back. And then every couple of years, she cuts it all off, again.

She’s had it like this for almost a year, and I think maybe she’s settled on the look. But, I’ve learned better than to try and predict what Beth Bosh will do.

When she looks back at me, she’s grinning. She takes in my unamused expressionand her smile instantly turns upside down. She shakes her head as if she disapproves of the ruckus, too.

I roll my eyes and smack her ass and her grin reappears, bawdy and suggestive this time. “Let’s go inside,” she mouths. I nod and without putting her down, wade toward the steps.

Beth clings to me, rolls her hips and tightens her legs so that her wet heat is pressedto my hips. She drops her head to pepper my throat with hot kisses and my entire body responds to her silent command,

She gets turned on my crowds, and normally, I’m down to take her to the nearest bathroom or broom closet and make her come. But, in our backyard surrounded by hundreds of people, there’s no way. She’s kissed her way up my jaw and is almost to my mouth.

I growl and squeeze her ass under the water, but I pull her hips back and give her warning look. She steals a kiss and smiles mischievously, but stops humping me.

Unlike our yard, the pool is sparsely populated. The sun has gone down, and the two of us are one of the last to get out of the water. No one can see what we’re doing. But, if I get out of this pool with a boner, there’s no way I’ll make it all the way across the packed yard and into the house with no onenoticing.

Just the thought of that being caught on camera shrivels my wood.

I put her down when we get to the steps and link our fingers as we climb out. The sun’s gone down, but it’s still almost eighty-five degrees. These hot summer nights are one of theonly things I like about living in Houston.

We cut our way through the crowd of similarly clad people. They’re facing the stage set up on our back lawn singing along to the music, dancing, kissing, and having a great time. I squeeze my mom’s shoulder as we walk by her and Joe. Rose, Nadia’s daughter, sitsperched on Joe’s shoulders. Ramzi, Phil’s husband nods and smiles when we squeeze past them.

Beth and I exchange surprised smiles. If he’s smiling, then we must be doing something right.

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