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“Are you happy?” she asks.
I look in her eyes and tell the truth. “Yes. Happier than I ever thought I’d be.”
Epilogue
Imala
I’m perched on the edge of my seat waiting for the computer to boot up. The bar results are in and I’ve been dying on the inside to get my answer. I don’t know why it matters so much. I have no desire to practice. I’ll be too busy at the bank to be a lawyer. Yet my palms sweat and my stomach is in knots like the results will make or break my future.
The screen comes to life and I log in. Wyn is on the way home, he wants to be with me when I review them. I chew my bottom lip and my knee bounces with angst. I get up and start pacing. Heavy footsteps announce Wyn’s arrival. I know it’s him because Berke is still in Manchester. A few days turned into weeks but he sends texts as updates.
“I’m here. I’m here!” Wyn calls out before he comes into view.
Fuck. He’s wearing suspenders.
I ignore how sexy he looks dressed up. I was at the bank before he’d awakened so I didn’t see him get dressed this morning. When I force my eyes to his, there is a hint of awareness, but it’s overshadowed by anticipation. Then it hits me. I want to pass for the same reason I decided to take the bar: I want my husband to be proud of me.
“You do it. I can’t look,” I admit.
Wyn passes the computer and scoops me into his arms. He smells so good; I close my eyes and breathe him in. His warm lips find mine and I relax in his arms.
“I have faith in you, Imal
a.” He puts me down and grabs my hand. “Now come show me I’m right.” He sits in the chair and pulls me into his lap. “Log in. Let’s see.”
I wipe my palms on my skirt and sign into my computer. My fingers aren’t steady as I navigate to the site. I curse when I type my password in twice. Wyn rubs my shoulders and I take a deep breath to try again.
The results pop up and I lean into the screen. I push my glasses up my nose, blink a few times, and look again.
“I passed?” I say with disbelief. The information sinks in more and I feel a buzz of excitement. “I passed!” I jump up and clap. “I did it!”
I turn to face Wyn and he’s leaning back in his chair. His huge smile displays all his teeth. He stands, grabs my hip, and pulls me flush against him and rests his forehead against mine.
“My butterfly. Congratulations. Imala Hale Esquire.”
Ugh! He’s so sexy and I see the pride I wanted.
My excitement is now mixed with lust. Lust-citement? I initiate the kiss. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I try my best to climb his body. Wyn smiles between kisses but grabs my ass to give me a lift. I wrap my legs around his waist and grind against him.
“Baby. We need to celebrate and tell the others,” he protests.
“We are. Right here and now on this desk.”
He smiles when my ass touches the cold wood. “Dirty girl.”
I tug at his suspenders, letting them pop. “It’s your fault for wearing these and being damn sexy. Celebrate with me, Wyn.”
He sucks on my bottom lip then pulls away. Stepping back, he rips off my panties, then pushes up my skirt.
“Okay. My tongue should take a victory lap.”
“Huh?” He drops to his knees. The warm slide of his tongue along my slit makes me shudder. “Oh that. Yeah. Keep doing that.”
I return home the next morning humming because not only did I check on the dance studio, I actually had time to do two of the dance classes. A warm shower calls my name but I’m damn happy. I saw the McLaren outside so I know Wyn is home, but we do live in a mansion so there’s that.
I get lost in my thoughts as I navigate the house.
After some wonderful desk sex, we called our families and went out for a celebratory dinner. I laughed while my parents argued over who was responsible for my intelligence. Wyn bragged about me with the pride of someone who worked three jobs just to get me through law school. I found myself looking around the table at the people I loved and appreciating how lucky I am. My sisters and I love each other and always cheer the other on with no jealousy between us and Oran and his brother are really bonding. I found myself wishing Berke was there. I felt better after he sent me a text.
