Page 157 of The Bad Wedding Date

She clenched around me. “Yes.”

“I promise to love you like you deserved to be loved.”

Her lazy smile grew, her nails digging in even harder as she arched towards me, her legs tightening around my waist.

I circled my hips, hitting those tight walls, and I ground into her, picking up pace as our breaths grew heavier until we didn’t know whose was whose. My arms curled around her, pulling her in tighter, as if I could pull her into me so we could become one.

“Fraser,” she breathed. “I…”

“Anything you want of me, Charlotte. Anything. I promise it all.”

Epilogue

FRASER

ONE YEAR LATER

“Ithink you’re done,” I said as Charlotte went back and forth from the bedroom to the kitchen, looking through cupboards and wardrobes for anything she could possibly have left behind.

With my arms thrown over the back of her sofa, I couldn’t help but smile as I took her in.

Three hundred and sixty-five days had passed since Matteo’s arrest, yet it had taken a full year for him to finally be convicted of his crimes against Charlotte and my mother, as well as a string of women who eventually came forward once the news had hit the headlines. They’d spent so long scared for their lives that they hadn’t dared to speak out against him. Not until the two women in my life stood up and made the world pay attention, with Mitchell Grant’s backing pushing things through and giving the accusations the credibility that the public needed to believe what they were hearing was the truth.

The last twelve months hadn’t been easy, though—getting my mum to testify against him had been the hardest battle of all—but with the support and encouragement of the woman I currently stared at in awe, Mum had somehow found the strength to stand up and take her life back. I had no doubt that all of that had happened because of Charlotte.

The way she’d spent time with Mum, even alone on occasion—she’d insisted that for them to get to know each other properly, I had to leave them to it—had blown my mind in ways I hadn’t known it could be blown. She was a force of nature, lighting up the lives of those around her with not a single clue about her ability to do so.

I blamed her family for that trait. She’d spent so long in the shadows; she had no idea how brightly she shone to everyone else. At least not until I’d taken up a permanent spot in her life—one I didn’t plan on giving up anytime soon.

The thought of a lifetime with her made my grin come to life as I watched her checking the boxes she’d spent all morning taping up. She wore her light blue mom jeans and a white T-shirt that dipped between the breasts just enough to make my mouth water every time she leaned over a box in concentration to write on it with her trusty Sharpie. Her hair was thrown up in a messy bun, and she didn’t have a scrap of make-up on. She didn’t need it. Although, I did love to see her enjoying the process of getting glammed up whenever the desire took her these days. According to her, she hadn’t had anyone to impress before I stormed into her life. Now, she enjoyed dressing up for me.

I told her I didn’t care what she wore so long as she didn’t mind me taking it off at the end of every night. She’d yet to protest once.

I couldn’t get enough of her, and I never would.

This version of her, carefree and genuinely enjoying life, was all I ever needed to see.

“Charlotte?”

She looked up at me from behind the kitchen island, her brows high. “Huh?”

“Come here.” I chucked my chin, beckoning her to me.

“Oh no, you don’t.” She pointed her Sharpie at me. “You promised me no distractions.”

“Who said I’m planning on distracting you?”

“I know that look, mister. You sit there all cocksure of yourself, your arms thrown out behind you. Your legs open and your lap waiting for me to climb onto it like you’re the master and this is your castle.”

“I’m well aware this isn’t my castle, baby.” I smirked. “This is all yours. Ours is about an hour away, waiting for the two of us to get there the second you decide to put your Sharpie down, realise we’re all packed, so you can come over here to give your man a kiss.”

Her shoulders sagged, and her arms fell to her thighs before she rolled her eyes and strode over to me, unable to hide the smile she was trying to hold back.

“You’re so demanding.” She straddled my lap and rested her hands on my shoulders, her knees sinking into the sofa on either side of me.

“Go cry about it to Jonah,” I said, grabbing her arse cheeks and giving them a squeeze.

“Oh, I will. When he’s back from romancing his woman in Spain.”

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