Page 91 of Where You Left Me

Epilogue

JONES

THE FOLLOWING SPRING

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Mia moves in front of me to adjust my tie. The sight of her, along with her presence calms my anxious heart.

“I think this is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you look, Peaches,” I say, skimming my hands over the silky fabric covering her ass.

“Jones,” she says, swatting my hands away, but the amused smile on her face tells me she loves it. “You say that practically every day.”

“Well, it’s true every day.” I spin her around so I can admire both of our reflections in the full-length mirror, bringing her against my chest.

“Ha!” she barks out a sarcastic laugh as she peers at us. “I’m huge.” She rubs her round belly.

“No, yourbellyis huge. And it’s sexy as hell. You’re flawless.”

We make eye contact in the mirror and hers is glassy and soft. It’s the look of desire. The one she gives me when I know she’s turned on.

“Think we have time?” I waggle my brows and slide my hand up her dress.

“Down, boy,” she answers teasingly, pulling away from me.

“C’mon,” I whine. “I’ll be fast.”

She snorts. “Fast is not something you should be striving for.”

“Shit. Like you need all night. I know how to get you off in seconds,” I husk.

Her cheeks blush. “Today is a big day.”

“Not for me,” I argue, tugging her back to me.

“Liar. It is too. And it’s almost time.” She goes up on tiptoe and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?” she rasps in my ear.

“How about you show me,” I try again.

“Tonight,” she promises.

“Fine,” I answer with a grunt.

She sashays toward the door and calls over her shoulder, “Save me a dance.”

“You know I save all my dances for you.”

“Okay, all but one. Rosie deserves a dance with you.”

She’s probably right. Okay, not probably, she’s always right.

I nod and my throat thickens.

“See you soon,” she says as she slips out the door.

Rosieand I stand in the living room of the cabin alone. Anxiety zips through me. I don’t know why I’m nervous, I’m not the one getting married.

But what’s weirder is Rosie looks nervous. It’s out of character for her. For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her as rattled as this.

She paces the floor, fiddling with the waist of her long, white gown.

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