Page 162 of Trapped In You: A BWWM Romance

I know I’ll have to steal her away from this gathering sometime during the night.

Linda enters the kitchen, wearing a big grin. “It’s so good to hear this house alive with voices again.” She hefts a slab of meat into the air and bellows, “Now who wants ribs?”

We set up the grill.

Hang out on the back porch.

Watch the sun set.

I wrap my arms around Shanel and hold her to me, swaying lightly while I listen to the laughter of my friends and family.

The night is warm, full and bright.

Perfection.

I shudder to think of what would have happened if I’d chosen fear instead of love on that boat. I would have missed out on her. On this moment.

Shanel looks at me with a contented smile.

I kiss her lips, pushing aside those ‘what ifs’. Life has a way of working itself out anyway and even if it didn’t, I would have fought my way back to her.

Shanel was mine in the beginning.

She’ll be mine when I’m old and grey.

My head nestles against hers and I inhale a deep, cocoa-butter-scented breath.

“I love you,” she whispers.

I kiss her neck and mumble, “Let’s go upstairs.”

She giggles and follows me up the stairs where I crush her to me and assure her once again that she’s the only woman I’ll ever need.

In this world and the next.

Epilogue

MORGAN

“You came back empty-handed,” Pavel murmurs. “Our machine is busted.” He points to the smoking doorway and then tosses a wrench. “Damn. I thought we’d made a breakthrough that time.”

“It’s my fault. I didn’t convince her.” I turn the golden bracelet around in my hands.

“Why are you both moping?” McCarthy dances into my garage, his dark fingers twined around three bottles of champagne.

I freeze. “Did you raid my wine cellar?”

He laughs and hands me a bottle. “We tore through time and space, connected with a parallel dimension and transported an item through it without breaking the fabric of our reality.” He laughs. “We need to throw a party.”

Pavel glowers. “There is no celebration for me.”

“Why not?”

“I made a promise.”

“To who?” I ask.

He grinds his teeth together. “To the boy.”

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