Page 30 of The Agent’s Curvy Seduction

“Marry me.”

It’s not a question. We both know that.

She stares at the ring, then at me, and the smile that breaks across her face is the best thing I’ve ever seen. “Yes. Of course, yes.”

I stand, pull her up with me, and kiss her hard right there on the same porch where I first told her she belonged to me. She laughs against my mouth and kisses me back like she’s been waiting for this exact moment. When we finally break apart, I keep her hand in mine so I can look at the ring on her finger where it belongs.

“We’re doing this soon,” I tell her. “I’m not waiting around for some big production. Small. Just the people who matter. Here at the cabin if you want.”

“I want that,” she says. “Dash and Finn and Madelyn. That’s enough.”

Two weeks later, we do exactly that.

The ceremony is short and private on the front porch at golden hour. Dash stands up with me. Madelyn stands with Willow. Finn is the one who actually knows how to speak in front of people without making it awkward, so he handles the words. Willow wears a simple cream dress that shows off her curves and the soft freckles across her shoulders. Her curls are down and wild the way I like them. When she walks toward me, there’s no hesitation in her eyes. Just certainty.

I marry her with the same words I used the night I came back bloodied and decided forever was non-negotiable.

“You’re mine. End of story.”

She says it back to me with a little smile that tells me she remembers every second of that night. Then I kiss my wife for the first time while Dash and Finn and Madelyn clap and the forest stays quiet around us like it’s in on the secret.

We eat outside at the long table under the string lights. Madelyn brought enough food for twice as many people. Finn keeps the drinks flowing. Dash is quieter than usual, but the way he watches Madelyn tells me he understands exactly what this day means. Willow stays close to my side the whole time, my ring on her finger, my last name already settling over her like it was always supposed to be there.

Later, when the others have gone and the cabin is ours again, I take her hand and walk her down to the dock.

The sun is almost gone, turning the water the same deep gold as the night I first brought her here. She leans into me and I wrap both arms around her from behind, resting my chin on top of her head. Her body fits against mine the way it always has—soft and perfect and completely mine.

“You happy?” I ask quietly.

She tips her head back against my shoulder so she can look at me. “Happier than I knew I could be.”

I press a kiss to her temple and hold her tighter. The future I started mapping out the first night I had her in that big bed is already here. The cabin. The ring. The woman who stopped running and chose me back. Everything else—kids, more mornings, more quiet evenings just like this one—will come in its own time.

For now, this is enough.

Willow Wolfe in my arms on the dock at sunset, soft and safe and smiling like she knows exactly what I know.

This is only the beginning.

epilogue 1

Willow

one year after the wedding.

The cabin smells like cinnamon and the lemon cleaner I used on the counters this morning.

I’m standing at the kitchen window with one hand braced on the small of my back and the other resting on the heavy curve of my stomach. Eight months along and I feel every bit of it. My feet are swollen, my balance is questionable at best, and I haven’t seen my ankles in weeks. None of that matters when the baby shifts under my palm like he’s trying to remind me he’s in there.

Hudson comes in from the porch and stops the second he sees me. His eyes drop to my stomach, then to the way I’m holding myself, and that familiar protective look settles over his face.

“You’re supposed to be sitting down,” he says, already crossing the room.

“I was just looking outside. The swing looks nice with the new cushions.”

“The swing will still look nice if you’re sitting on it instead of standing here making your back hurt.” He moves behind me and puts both hands on my hips, steadying me like I might tip over. His chest is solid and warm against my shoulders. “Come on. Sit.”

I let him guide me to the big armchair we moved closer to the window last month so I could still see the trees. He waits until I’m settled before he crouches in front of me and rests both hands on my belly. The baby kicks hard enough that Hudson feels it and the corner of his mouth lifts.