THE FINAL BOOK 3: EPILOGUE (1)
"It's gone. It's actually gone," Emily mutters, lifting pillows to search the couch in our living room.
I roll up the cuffs on my dress shirt as I cross the bright, airy apartment from the master bedroom. "Six, tell me you haven't lost your ring."
She crosses to me, her face a mask of shock.
Then she pulls her hand out to show me the diamond glinting on her finger.
Relief slams into me, along with pleasure.
Every time I see it on her hand, I feel that way. Even though we've been engaged for three months, I haven't gotten over knowing she's mine.
Jacob teases that it won't go away until she's signed the certificate and she can't back out.
The truth is I know it won't go away even after that.
"Why do you look so happy?" Emily asks, planting a hand on her hip.
I tear my gaze away from her teasing face to take her in, from her purple-painted toenails to her long legs to the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, and the valley between her breasts, all outlined by the tidy black dress.
It should be cute.
It's not. It makes me want to drag her against me and do unspeakable things to her.
"Because you're marrying me."
Her eyes darken, and she tucks a piece of the hair she finished curling in our huge en suite bathroom an hour ago behind her ear. "But I can't find my phone, and how the hell am I supposed to buzz people up?"
"I'll call it in a second. We'll find it."
I back her toward the windows, and her eyes widen. "Timothy, we have guests arriving any minute."
"You already lost the phone. Can't buzz them up. Let's call it off."
Her back meets the window, and she sucks in a breath.
I drop my mouth to her neck, loving her soft floral scent and the way she arches, offering up more of her-all of her.
I'll devour every inch.
"We can't call it off," she pants even though her fingers thread into my hair. "It's our engagement-previews-housewarming party."
"Fuck it. They'll just bring booze and say how happy they are for us. I can tell you how happy I am for us."
My hand sneaks under the hem of her dress and under the scrap of lace she calls panties.
"You're so wet," I tell her as if she doesn't know. "How long have you been like this?"
"Since you walked out wearing that shirt I bought you."
"Why's that?"
"Because I like knowing I get to dress you. You're like my own broody rock star Ken doll."
I sink two fingers into her in retaliation, and she moans, squirming.
"We'll have lots of time for that when we're married," Emily protests, but I know she's joking because her hips lift to meet every stroke of my hand.
I glance at the clock. "We have at least ten minutes."
Emily's lips curve. "Well, in that case."
I fuck her against the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I will never, ever get tired of her sounds, the way she feels around me.
This woman owns me.
She's built me up, made me more than I thought I could be.
And everything I am, everything I will ever be, I'd give it to her.
I didn't think it was possible to love another person the way I love her, but she's shown me giving your heart can be worth it if you give it to the right person.
When we finish, we clean up quickly and track down her phone before our guests start arriving.
"This building is beautiful, Emily. I swear the entire thing is windows. And you!" Haley gushes as we open the door to the hallway, Sophia bounding beside her. Eddie has the baby carrier in his arms.
"You're glowing," Haley goes on as she steps inside.
Emily's face goes red. "Thanks." She passes me the huge flower arrangement Haley gives her. "Can you take these to the dining room?"
"Sure." But I can't resist brushing my lips over her ear. "I love that now you're blushing when I was inside you ten minutes ago against those windows."
And as I head for the kitchen without waiting for her response, I love that I'll be inside her tonight after everyone goes home, that I'm the one who gets to make this beautiful, strong woman soft.
Over the next hour, everyone filters in and mingles around our new apartment.
Andie's here, plus Rica, plus Avery, and Jacob. Andie catches us up on her stand-up performances and the news that she's made it to the third round of a nationwide comic breakout competition. Rica's been DJ-ing in New York and Miami but made sure she could be here for our party.
Even Jacob's sister, Serena, came since she lives in New York, with her boyfriend, Wes.
"Holy shit," Wes states, unselfconscious as he takes in the views. "How big is this place?"
"Two thousand square feet," I supply.
"My bedroom could fit in your bathroom," Rica deadpans.
Emily doesn't feel badly in the slightest. "Hey, that was my bedroom," she points out to the woman who took over her spot in Andie's apartment when Emily moved out.
"This is what Broadway money buys you," Jacob jokes. "And you've only started previews for the show."
In reality, a good part of our income is from my royalties, including the new album that's set to drop next week and is the best music I've made to date. The surgery helped with the pain in my hand, but not my ability to play guitar.
Still, I care less than I used to. Emily helped me realize I can write amazing music and let other people help me perform it.
Serena laughs and shoves at her brother. "You can't talk. I have people texting me photos of you from online magazines every other week naming you the hottest new actor in Hollywood."
"Hottest," he points out with a grin. "Not richest."
His show started releasing weekly last month, and it's all anyone can talk about. It's all but guaranteed to get renewed for a second season.
Emily sneaks up on me with a glass of champagne.
I make a face at the drink. "Do I have to?" I joke as I take it from her.
"I know you hate bubbles. But Dad wants to make a toast." She smiles.
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