I want to hold this man’s hand in fifty years and say we made it.
I want our children to believe we’re soul mates—because that’s what kids do—and then find out when they’re grown they were right.
I want our story, the real one, to have a happily ever after.
I crawl over to straddle his body, careful to not hurt him. I lower my face to his. “Yes. A million times yes. I will marry you.”
The path leading Beau and me to happiness hasn’t been conventional. Getting to this place was hard. But I’m glad. It makes it all worth the wait to give him my heart, because in him, I’ve finally found my true and beautiful.
Epilogue
Beau Emerson
I dash toward the door of Peach’s writing cave but Clark is faster. He bursts through and runs to her, throwing his arms around her leg. “Mama,” he whines.
I know, little buddy. I miss Mommy, too, when she’s on lockdown, racing to beat a deadline.
Peach looks up from her computer. All smiles. She removes her earbuds and closes her laptop. She puts her arms out for our son. “Hey, baby boy. Come ’ere and see Mommy for a minute.”
A two-year-old doesn’t understand why his mother is in the same house but he can’t be with her. Sometimes it’s hard for me to comprehend as well.
“Sorry. I tried to catch him but the little stinker got away. He’s fast.”
She pulls him onto her lap, wraps her arms around him, and laughs. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Well, I can but it isn’t good news.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “One guess. Flip troubles.”
Exactly. That’s what the fuck it always is. “Judd called. We have a disaster at one of the new renos. Something with the foundation.”
She wrinkles her nose. “That doesn’t sound good.”
"It’s probably going to cost a fortune.” And eat up a big chunk of profit.
“I’m going over to check it out. Want me to take Clark so you can work in peace?”
She kisses the top of his head. “As much as I hate it, I really need you to.”
“No problem. Are you close to finishing?”
“At the end of the last chapter.”
Thank God. I understand the wee hours are when the house, and Clark, are quiet but I’m ready for my wife to come to bed at bedtime instead of staying up half the night working.
“Maybe tonight we can work on that new project we discussed?”
“I have to start edits as soon as I finish this chapter. It’s going to be tough getting that done before we leave on Friday.” Clark interrupts her when he wiggles out of her lap. “What project are you talking about?”
“Our baby-making venture.”
She smiles. “Ahh. Someone’s anxious to get to work on that?”
“I really am, Peach.” I’ve been wanting to try for another baby for a while, but she’s been reluctant. I understand. Her body healed months ago but she needed more time to recover emotionally from the baby we lost earlier this year.
She was only a couple of months along when she miscarried. The doctor assured us it was random and not a predictor of future problems. Thank God.
My job as Anna James’s husband is to protect her and our child. Our children. But what happened was completely out of my control. I’d never felt more helpless.
It was a dark time. But our loss brought us closer.
Now, things are much better.
Beauregard, I’m ready to try again. I think it’s time we make a brother or sister for Clark. I was so happy to hear those words from Peach last week.
We leave on our Jamaican getaway this weekend to the Grand Rose, the boutique resort where we honeymooned. “Maybe we’ll make another Montego Bay baby. I sort of like the first one.” Even if he is a pistol.
“Yeah. He’s a pretty cute lil’ guy. I wouldn’t mind having another like him.”
Me either, but I hope the next one is a petite fair-haired girl with blue eyes the color of the luminous lagoon. Just like my incredible wife.
Clark streaks by chasing Kermit. He loves that cat, but I’m not so sure his affection is requited.
I reach out to catch him. “Come ’ere little buddy. Let’s give Kermit a break.”
I toss him into the air and catch him in a cradle hold. “Want to go see Unc Jid?”
“Unc Jid,” Clark shrieks. He’s crazy about my brothers. All of them. Caroline and Ashlyn, too.
“Want me to bring dinner home since you’re cramming?” I know the routine. Peach is usually the cook in this family. Except when it’s manuscript crunch time. Then, it’s takeout every night, and I’m the delivery guy.
“That would be great, baby.” She looks thoughtful. “You up for sushi and hibachi?”
I can always do Japanese. “Sure. Want the usual?”
“Yup.”
I tickle Clark under the chin. “Chicken fried rice for you, little dude?”
Clark squeals and wiggles in my arms. I love that he’s ticklish like his mom. That’s one of the few things he got from her.
The rambunctious, fearless road runner trait he got from me.
“Okay. We’ll be back in a couple hours.”
* * *
Huge chunks of the subfloor are gone. Ripped up completely. What a fucking mess.
Judd wasn’t kidding. This is going to cost big time. We can kiss our generous profit goodbye on this job.
But it’s the nature of the beast on these kinds of projects. No risk. No profit.
Clark wiggles to get down. “No, Clarky. You can’t get down here. Too dangerous. You could fall through those holes in the floor.”
“Where is Unc Jid, Clark? Want to call for him?”
“Unc Jid,” Clark calls out.
Judd knew I was coming. And his work truck is outside. He’s probably hiding because he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say about this shit.
I walk toward the back of the reno.
Dammit. The deeper you go, the worse it gets. I don’t even want to know what this is going to cost.
Well, Judd and Wilder’s asses can get ready to do the work to cut expenses. They’re the ones who insisted we buy this dump. They’re going to be the ones to get it in shape.
I enter the master bedroom and go to the en suite to evaluate its potential preservation.
“You like getting fucked like this, don’t you?” Judd smacks the woman’s naked, lilywhite ass.
Holy shit.
I cover my son’s eyes and immediately begin stepping back.
Motherfucker. I did not need a visual of Judd bending some redhead over those ugly pink counter tops.
Dickhead knew I was coming. Hell, he’s the one who called me and told me to come. So, why is he doing a lewd infusion with some ol’ girl when I get here? And with my son? Asshole.
But I know the answer. He’s ball’s deep because he can be. Single life.
Clark and I hang out in the front yard while Unc Jid finishes his business.
Well, I’ll be fucked!
“Hey, Beau! And hey to you, little cutie. You’ve grown since I saw you last.”
Fucking shit disturber. “Hey, Daphne.”
“You’re just the person I came to see.” It didn’t look like that five minutes ago. Does the woman have no shame? “I have some clients looking for a house. Want to work together?” No fucking way.
I’ll be happy to find a house for the client, but I’m not working with Daphne. Even if nothing happened between us the day I took her to the park, I’d be asking for hell at the house if I agree to work with her.
I take out my business card. “Have them give me a call.”
She stuffs it into her purse. “Sure thing.”
Daphne looks over at Judd. “You need to talk Beau into letting me decorate this house.”
That’s Daphne. Always pushing herself on people when she’s not welcome.
Judd winks, one of his signature moves. “I’ll talk to him.”
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Hell, no, we won’t.
“Keep me in the know about what’s happening with my clients.” Sorry. Won’t be doing that.
Daphne gets into her BMW and waves goodbye as she pulls away.
I put Clark down to walk in the yard.
“You skeezy motherfucker.” I whisper the last part.
“What?”
“You know what.”
Judd laughs. “You’d have tapped that ass, too, if she’d thrown her pussy on you like she did me just now. Oh, wait.” He puts his hands into the air as though he’s having an epiphany. “You did hit it.”
And I’ve wished a million times I could erase it from my memory. And hers. “You don’t even know how bad you’re going to regret doing that. She’s a leech.”
“Nah, it’ll be okay.”
“Well, just remember I told you so.”
Dumb fucker. That quick fuck is going to cost him.
“And we’re not using her to decorate.” Just so he knows.
“Well, fuck, no, we’re not. I wouldn’t do that to Mama Kay.”
Judd needs to find a girl. And fast. It’s the only way he’s going to get Daphne off his back.
* * *
Peach and I are staying in the presidential suite at The Grand Rose. Same room we honeymooned in eighteen months ago.
Those are good memories. But I’m betting we’re about to make better ones this time, the kind we’ll take home with us in her tummy. We’re going to make a baby.
I take off my shirt and trousers while I wait for Peach. I’m only wearing my boxer briefs when she comes out of the bathroom and stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She shifts her weight to one leg and places a hand on her hip, pushing her tits up.
Black baby doll top split up the middle. Bare belly. Tiny black triangle between her legs. Fuck-me-now facial expression.
Ultimate prelude to baby-making.
“What does Daddy think?”
“Daddy likes.”
I walk toward her, and she moves to meet me in the middle of the room. I’m overcome by the love I feel for this woman when I consider what we’re doing. Again. This time, intentionally.
She puts her hands on my hips and walks us toward the bed until the backs of her legs hit the mattress. She sits and glides to the middle. She lifts her foot and curls her toes around the waistband of my boxer briefs, pulling them, and me, in her direction. She uses her index finger to coax me. Fuck, my wife is hot.
“Get up here, Beauregard, and put a baby inside me.”
I crawl up her body, taking my time as I leave a path of kisses, beginning at her belly. When we’re face to face, she grasps the back of my neck. “Kiss me.”
She pulls me down so our mouths meet. Her mouth is making love to mine. Slowly. Deeply. Lovingly.
When she stops, I pull away to look at her face. “I love you, Anna James Peach Emerson.”
She stares into my eyes as I hover above and runs her fingertips down my cheek. “And I love you, William Beauregard Emerson.”
I kiss the side of her face and move my mouth down the length of her neck before unfastening the ribbon holding this beautiful package together. I can’t resist placing a kiss between her breasts, over her heart.
If we conceive tonight, it’ll only be a matter of months before she puts a newborn to these breasts to nurse. And I’ll get to be there for everything this time.
When I’m finished removing her top, she lifts her bottom and I drag her panties down her legs. She returns the favor by hooking her toes in the waistband of my boxer briefs and pushing them down. I kick them away when they hit the top of my feet.
With legs parted, I nestle my body between them until my hard cock is against her warm, inviting pussy. She lifts her hips and my tip glides just inside her. She squeezes her legs and brings me closer. I love when she does that. Coaxing me in.
I press my hand into the mattress so I can wrap it around her lower back. I lift to pull her hips upward and sink as far as possible. Deep.
I’m moving inside her slowly and my hands skim the underside of her arms. I push them over her head and lace my fingers through hers. Our hands are joined as one, just like our bodies.
When I release her from my imprisonment, I move my palms down her body. Her legs are bent on each side of my hips so I spread them farther apart and back. God, I love being inside her like this.
Peach moans when I slide my hand between our bodies to the point where we become one. No beginning. No end.
I know her body as well as my own. She needs more than penetration to come so I find that spot––the one that drives her crazy every time I touch it––and stroke my fingers against it.
“Yes. Right there. Just like that.”
Her breath quickens as she grasps my back and pulls me against her tighter. She grinds her hips upward so I know I’m right where I need to be.
Her legs tighten, and I know what’s coming next. Her inner walls tense around me, rhythmically squeezing my cock. Once. Twice. And then again over and over until I lose count, because I’m lost in my own world coming apart. Exploding.
I thrust deeply one last time, spilling a part of myself inside her. My wife. My love. Mother of my children. My forever.
I’m braced on my elbows as I hover above her. I’m still inside, unmoving, while I remember the times when Peach has been her most beautiful: that first night when she sat at my table at the Indulge restaurant, our reunion in New York, seeing her with our son for the first time, watching her walk down the aisle to become my wife, and now lying here beneath me as we try to conceive another baby.
So fucking beautiful it hurts.
* * *
“Mmm . . . ohh . . .” I hear Peach moaning as she tosses in bed. Haven’t heard that in a while.
“You okay?”
“Sss . . .” I hear her sucking air through her teeth. “Ooh . . .”
I sit up to turn on the lamp and see her lying on her side with her legs pulled into a half-fetal position. “Are you going into labor?”
She’s covering her face with her hand. “Mmm-hmm. And it’s bad.”
Her due date isn’t for another week. She went three days past due with Clark. I guess I expected a repeat.
Shit. I’ve been preparing myself for this for months, but I don’t know what to do. “When did you start hurting?”
“Maybe two hours ago.”
Two hours? How did I sleep through her moaning and tossing in pain for that long? “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I thought it might be a false labor. I didn’t want to get you up if it wasn’t the real thing.” My selfless Peach.
She looks like she’s in a lot of pain. “What do you want me to do?”
“Help me change into my yoga pants and a T-shirt so we can go to the hospital.”
I grab my phone to call Mom while I fetch her clothes. “Hey, Nana. It’s show time.”
“Be right there.”
I help Peach into her clothes. “Let me brush my teeth and pull my hair up before we go.”
“Okay, but hurry.” I’m not at all comfortable with hanging around here. She was already dilated three centimeters the last time she saw the doctor and I’ve heard second babies come much faster.
“Uh oh.”
I don’t like uh ohs. “What is it?”
I go to the bathroom door and find Peach sitting on the toilet. “My water just broke. Get me a towel.”
I don't know a lot about having babies but I think that means things are progressing. “Did that happen with Clark?”
“Not until I was at the hospital.” Peach looks at me and laughs. “You’re white as a ghost. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Lie. I’m scared shitless.
“You’ve whined for more than two years about missing everything with Clark. Don’t even think about wussing out on this one.”
“You’re going to make sure you give me the full experience, aren’t you?”
She nods. “Oh
, hell to the yeah.”
We arrive at Women’s Hospital and Peach is taken to an observation room where a nurse comes in to check her. Glove on, her hand disappears under the covers. “Looks like someone’s staying to have a baby. I’d call you every bit of five, almost six centimeters. Are you planning to get an epidural?”
“No. I go natural.”
The nurse looks amused, almost as though she thinks Peach doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into. “Have you done that before?”
“Yes. I did it without an epidural when I delivered my first baby.”
“All right then.”
She’s tough as nails. “I know you can do it without the epidural, but I hate seeing you in pain.”
She reaches out and cradles my face. “I’m okay. Really.” Peach is the one giving birth, and she’s comforting me. That’s just like her.
“It’s a good kind of pain.” That doesn’t even make sense to me but it’s my job to support her decision.
“You’re gonna rock this, babe.”
An hour of panting and heavy breathing passes. And not the good kind. “I gotta push.”
A herd of nurses and a doctor fill the room after Peach’s nurse examines her.
Holy shit. This is happening fast. Not just her labor and this baby’s delivery. The whole pregnancy from that night in Montego Bay.
Surprise! We’re pregnant.
Guess what, Clark. You’re getting a baby brother or baby sister.
Baby looks perfect on the ultrasound.
Beau! I felt the baby move.
Put your hand here and feel how hard this kiddo can kick.
I didn’t miss a thing this time. I loved every minute of watching our child grow inside Peach.
“We’re about to meet our new son or daughter. I’m so glad we didn’t find out the gender.”
“Well, we’re about to know because this is happening.”
Oh fuck. Reality hits me. I’m about to be Daddy to another little person.
Peach moves into position, her legs bent and apart, hands wrapped around the backs of her thighs. “Pressure’s building. Oh God, I’ve got to push.”
Peach pushes through the next contraction. “Look down here, Mr. Emerson, if you want to see the top of your baby’s head.”