Page 37 of Out in the Country

“I had to show you—” I heave out before he drops me unceremoniously on the bed and stalks toward our closet. He’s gone for barely a minute, but when he returns, his fist is closed and a smirk is firmly in place.

“You show me every day, Hayden, what I mean to you. I didn’t want to rush you but,”—his smirk turns salacious as he takes my left hand—“I like seein’ you eager.”

His words from the night of the wedding and so many nights after cause a shiver to race down my spine as he kneels down at the edge of the bed and pulls me to sit before him.

“You’re ready to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re takin’ my last name?”

“Hell yes, I am. I didn’t write Hayden Scott Teal in my diary under lock and key only to give up that teenage dream over a decade later. Plus, if I take my last name and make it my middle name we’ll be Hayden Scott Teal and Everett Scott Teal. It’s practically like hyphenating.”

His laugh is everything as he slips the ring onto my finger, and tears stream down my face. Funny how once the roles reversed the tears did too.

“I love you, Hayden.”

“I love you more.” He shakes his head as I cup his face in my hands. “More than anything.” And then I kiss my fiancé until the only thing I can taste and feel and breathe is him.

Always.

EPILOGUE

EVERETT

“Ican’t believe they upgraded us to a private villa,” my husband says as he lies stretched out on a lounge chair on the pristine sands of Saint Thomas.

We flew straight here after attending the Descending North concert and hearing Garrett North dedicate and play a song he wrote for us. So far no one from Clementine Creek has fessed up to that little stunt, but I have my guesses.

“Me either, but I can’t say I hate it. That concert either,” I reply with a smile as I let the sun warm my face. As a wedding gift, Hank and Isla had taken our all-inclusive reservation at the resort and surprised us with an upgrade, including this glorious view where I can ravage Hayden anywhere I want without being seen.

“I can’t believe I cried like that when he started singing,” Hayden complains, and I chuckle because the man had absolutely sobbed like a baby.

“Could have been worse.”

“Hmm.” The noise is noncommittal, and I take a moment to admire him. He might have cried at the concert, but there was no shortage of tears at the wedding— from either of us. It was the best night of my life. “You’re starin’.”

“You’re delicious.” His cheeks turn a bright shade of pink, and I know it has nothing to do with the sun beating down on us.

Hayden’s head turns to the side to look at me. Even behind his sunglasses, I can feel his gaze travel up and down my body.

“Why don’t you come have a seat?” I pat my lap. “Lose the shorts.”

His grin is wicked as he throws his legs over the side of the lounge chair and stands. His thumbs tease the top of his swimsuit, and he does a little shimmy before pushing them to the sand.

I don’t hate the show.

His cock stands at attention, and I push my swim trunks down and discard them just as he moves to straddle my lap. His erection brushes against mine, and I grip them both together in my hand.

Hayden gasps and rocks into my touch.

He tries to increase the pace, but I dig my fingers into his perfect ass cheek to keep him steady.

“Everett,” he tries to growl, but it comes out more as a frustrated whine, and I swallow his plea as I ravage his mouth.

“You have to wait,” I say against his lips, as I stroke us the way I know will get us there together.

“You know I’m not good at that.”

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