Page 156 of Only Mine
He backs me against the car, and when his mouth swoops down, my lips are already parted for him.
Saint kisses like he cooks, with complete focus and zero apology for what he wants. His hands span my waist, holding me exactly where he needs me, and I arch into him because I’ve missed this, missed him taking what’s his.
A little squeak from inside the car makes us break apart,and I peek through the window to see Ivy blinking drowsily at us, a sleepy smile spreading across her face.
“Papa,” she mumbles, “are you kissing Just Wrenley?”
Saint’s laugh vibrates through his chest and into mine. “Yes,mon trésor. I am.”
We stay in each other’s arms, and I think about how this is what happily ever after actually looks like, quiet moments where love is found in the everyday spaces, where home is wherever the three of us are together.
“I love you, Wrenley.”
It’s the second time he’s said it, and it lands like a dream come true, like a vow, like the beginning of everything we’re going to build together.
“I love you, too, Saint.”
The declaration flows from me like it’s been waiting its entire life to find him.
“Both of you,” I add.
Saint smiles as he tilts my face up and our lips meet.
Welcome to your fresh start, Wren.
This time, I think I’ll stay for the whole thing.
EPILOGUE – WRENLEY
Saint’s golf ball hits the clown’s nose. The colorful statue lets out a wheezy honk and spits a jet of water directly into Saint’s face.
“That’s it,” he says flatly. “I’m burning this place to the ground.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back a laugh, but then he drags the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face, and I’m gifted with his inked, washboard abs.
“Exhibitionism isn’t going to improve your score,” Rome drawls from behind us, tipping his cowboy hat. “Though I appreciate the show.”
“You can’t arson your way out of losing,” I add, lips twitching as I wind my arms around Saint’s waist and tip my head up.
“I absolutely can.” He presses our chests together, hands bracketing my hips. “But are you going to keep looking at me like that every time I embarrass myself in public?”
“Only if you keep letting me win.”
“Cherie, I have never let you win.”
“Liar.”
“Ask anyone,” he says, pressing his mouth to my temple. “I’m pathologically competitive. Except with you. With you, I’d lose on purpose if it meant you’d smile like that again.”
Noa wolf-whistles from the next hole.
“Oh, good,” she calls. “I was worried this date wasn’t going to include a strip show.”
“Keep talking,” Saint says without looking at her. “You’ll be next in line when the clown catches fire.”
“Ilivefor threats,” Noa retorts with a grin, tossing her ball into the mouth of a giant plastic shark while Stone stands beside her pretending this is normal. He flew in an hour ago and is still dressed in his designer suit.
Stone takes his first swing, sending the ball careening off the edge of the pirate ship. It ricochets, misses the green entirely, and lands in a decorative moat. He regards the situation with folded arms.
