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Epilogue
Two Months Later
If anyone had asked me three months ago what my life would look like today, I would've grunted and informed them nothing ever changes. Take another wife? No, never. Ease up on my work schedule? Donnae be daft. Fall in love? Not unless the earth starts revolving around the moon. Those would have been my typical, grumpy responses back then. But now, I have a vibrant, sexy, enchanting wife who adores me as much as I adore her.
The Ogre of Loch Fairbairn is happy. Contented. Whole.
Sunshine streams through the windows in my office, a pleasant respite from the cool fall weather we've been having. It's warm enough that I could shag my wife outdoors today, and I will do that later. I think I'll take her in the forest this time, up against a tree on the path we often follow on our walks. Aye, Emery would love that.
First, I need to finish a bit of work.
My wife sashays into my office, carrying a book, and sprawls on the chair in front of my desk with her feet on the desktop. The sunlight paints her in golden hues, like the angel she is.
My wicked little angel.
Though I see her, I don't let on that I do. Instead, I act as if I'm engrossed in my work. Why? Because I love the way she teases me about it. "I'll be finished in ten minutes, then we can play."
"That doesn't work for me. I want to play right now. To celebrate."
"Celebrate what?" I glance up, and my eyes widen. But they narrow swiftly as my mouth curves into a sensual smile. "It's a good thing we're the only ones in the house today."
Although we have welcomed a number of guests lately, including Emery's American mates, none of them got to see my wife dressed the way she is today. And they never will.
"Don't know what you mean," she says, feigning innocence.
I drop my pen, leaning back in my chair. "You are barely clothed, mo gaoloch."
"Really? I hadn't noticed." She stretches languorously and rises from her chair.
Cannae resist drinking in her appearance, from her ComicCon T-shirt to the black lace of her tiny knickers, and down to the naked expanse of her legs and her bare feet. I exhale a deep groan, rife with the lust she purposely provoked in me. Not that I mind. Having a poke with Emery is my favorite pastime.
Then I notice the book she's holding.
"What are you doing with that?" I ask, caressing the desktop with my fingers, the way I want to touch her body.
Emery ambles to the desk and leans against it as she hands me our photo album. "I added something to it."
I accept the book and flip it open, smiling at the title page. "We're still evolving, then?"
"Absolutely. I hope we never stop."
"We won't." I thumb through the pages, past the pictures that represent every stage in our relationship. When I reach the final page, I freeze. "What…"
She taps her finger on the picture that stopped me, one she's shown me before—a photo of Emery as a baby. "A preview of what the next phase in our evolution might look like. Your little guys are strong swimmers."
"My what?"
"Your sperm, baby. They got the job done."
I stare at her for a moment, baffled by her statement. Then I finally grasp her meaning and break into the biggest smile I've ever given anyone. "It's true?"
"No, I thought it would be funny to trick you."
"We—" I haul in a shaky breath and exhale it as laughter. "We're having a baby?"
"Yes, my sweetie-pie, we are."
I leap out of my chair, throw my arms around her, and drag my wife across the desk. Her feet have just touched down on the floor when I lift her up, her feet swinging, and consume my wife with a kiss that verges on being indecent. When I pull away, I keep our lips close enough that they brush each other. "I love you, Emery."
