Page 204 of Heartbeats & Highways

His grip on my hips was possessive, bruising.

I clenched around him and came with a cry.

Savage thrust once, twice, and then he spilled his warmth into me.

He held me for a moment and then gently eased out. I felt his release on my thighs and shivered with desire again.

“Greedy, greedy, greedy.” He kissed my shoulder. “When I’ve recovered, I’ll get you a washcloth.”

“Hmm.” My eyes were languid as I looked at him. “And when you’ve recovered, I want to have my way with you again.”

“You’ll be the death of me, woman,” he said with a tired chuckle. “Keeping you satisfied is a full-time job.”

“Any complaints?”

“Not one.”

First Epilogue

1 month later

Evie

“A toast,” Brooklyn raised her flute, “to Jazz finally locking Homer’s ass down.”

“Here, here,” Brielle added. She knocked back her champagne. “Barkeep, hit me.”

Willa snorted. “Pace yourself. We’re supposed to be helping the bride get ready. Not getting smashed.”

“Barkeep,hit me,” Brielle repeated.

“Oh, I’ll hit you all right,” Jazz joked.

We were currently in Brielle’s parents’ home in a guest room with a bathroom. It was the staging area for the bridal party to get ready.

Brooklyn and Willa had left their babies with their fathers so they could be free to enjoy this time before the wedding.

“You’re okay that I didn’t ask you to be a bridesmaid, right?” Jazz looked at me, concern in her eyes.

“You didn’t ask Willa either,” I said with a laugh. “Homer’s only got two brothers, so you only needed two bridesmaids. But thank you for including me in this.”

Jazz hugged me tight.

“You talk to your mom?” Brooklyn asked Jazz.

Jazz nodded. “I video chatted with her this morning. I promised to send the nurse a picture of me in my wedding dress.”

Her gaze was wistful, and she hastily brushed her fingers under her eyes to prevent the tears from smearing her makeup. “I wish she were here.”

Jazz’s mother had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s and was in a care facility. Her spurts of clarity came and went; and stress brought them on. As much as Jazz wanted her mother at her wedding, her mother insisted that Jazz focus on her perfect day, instead of having to worry that she would have an episode and ruin everything.

“We’ll take lots of pictures and videos,” Brooklyn said, squeezing Jazz’s hand.

Brielle tried to hand Jazz a champagne flute. “Absolutely.”

“I’m good,” Jazz said, not taking the drink.

“Come on, you’re marrying Homer. For life. You need a little bit of liquid courage.”

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