“We don’t have to.” He shrugs. “I totally think my parents would agree to adopting you, but that would make things a little, I don’t know, ‘cesty. But there’s always just legally changing your name. That paperwork Idothink would be meaningful, because you’d finally beridding yourself from that anchor weighing you down. Whaddaya think?”
“I think I’d like that, Gannett.” Then, I smirk. “GordyLeopoldGordon. It has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”
He guffaws. “You’re such a dick.”
“Yeah,” I tease, “but I’myourdick. Of course I’d choose Waters.”
“Gordy Waters,” he hums, gaze once again fixed on the campfire. “Sounds real goddamned good to me… Do you suppose T-dawg would want to change his name as well?”
“It does to me too, and yeah, I bet he probably would. I love you, Gannett.”
When his eyes meet mine, they’re filled with a sea of emotions, but the one I can make out shining bright through all the others—like a beacon in the night—is honesty. Pure, unfettered truth. He reaches over and grabs my hand. “I love you too. I always will, even when calm seas turn into troubled waters and back again. With just you and me here tonight, I vow to you that I will always be there for you, guiding you towards safe harbor.”
I lean over and kiss him. There’s nothing rough or lust-driven about this one. When our lips meet, my tongue parting his and seeking entry into his mouth, there’s nothing rushed with promises of this leading to anything sexual. It’s our mouths way of making a promise to each other that neither of us would be able to fully articulate with words coming from them.
When we finally break apart, both of us on the verge of tipping over in our camp chairs, I note, “You know, this feels kind of like a wedding, to be honest.”
He grins. “Yeah, but we did itourway. On the fly and in private. No planning, no guest list, no tuxes. I’m only sorry I didn’t come prepared with cake. I know how much you like your sweets.”
I chuckle. “I actually packed some snack cakes. They’re just inside the camper, and I don’t want to wake the girls.”
“I can be stealthy,” he offers. “Twink should probably go inside anyway, since I doubt you packed him his sweater.”
“Dogs do not need sweaters, Gannett.”
“Yes, theydo, Gordy,” he protests. “Wieners need to be wrapped for their own safety sometimes. Look at him, he’s shivering!”
I shake my head, suppressing a laugh. “Go take him inside then.”
When he does, I head to my truck to fish the gift I got for him out of my glove compartment. I didn’t plan on there being this moment out here tonight, but now seems like the right time to give it to him. I’ll admit, I’ve been giving some of those videos Madame Noir suggested a peek, specifically the ones regarding collaring.
Since Gannett still likes to covertly attempt wearing that big, obvious one we got at the sex toy shop occasionally, I decided to get him a discreet day collar instead. All this looks like is a double layered black fabric chain, with a little platinum tube bead with an image of a lighthouse laser engraved on it. To the untrained eye, this would look just like a regular necklace, but if I slip a finger between the two tiny ropes, I can cinch it up and turn it into a choker.
I figure this could serve in place of a wedding band now, and I surmise that he will never take this off, since he is all about having a physical reminder that he’s mine. Good thing Madame Noir talked me into getting two, because, for as much as Gannett is mine, I’m also his. And once we’re done feeding snack cakes to one another, I’ll let him slip this matching one over my head and around my neck as a testament to that.
I’m his. I’m a Waters. I finally feel like I have a purpose in life, and I’m in a place where I belong, with people who have let me in and loved me when I never thought I could be loved again.
Epilogue One
Gannett is, of all things, getting pedicures with the girls in downtown Ridge Falls, so I’m left exploring the rest of the area while I wait for them. They shouldn’t be much longer anyway, so I figure why not find a place where we can all grab something to eat once they’re done. There’s a bakery called Stuffin’s Muffins that I’ve heard a lot about, and, craving something sweet, I decide to pop in and see what the fuss is about. Inside, I spot a familiar looking man up at the counter, a little boy—who appears to be about the same age as Tati and Terra—by his side, pointing at a rack of muffins.
The man does a double-take when he sees me too. Odd, considering I don’t know anyone from around here. This guy is obviously a Maine Game Warden, given the uniform he has on, so I spare a glance at his nametag.Harnden.
Shit, that’s the same last name as the Harnden twins—the twins that were there at the pub that night. The night one of them kissed Gannett toget a rise out of me. This guy was there with them.That’swhere I recognize him from.
“Do I know you?” the man asks me.
“Yeah, uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I was just trying to figure out why you looked so familiar. You were in Ternbay, at Portside Pub, back in April, weren’t you?”
He nods, looking confused and slightly creeped out. Can’t say as I blame him, I guess, thatdidcome off sounding a little fuckin’ stalker-esque. “I own—er, well, used to own the place. I was there the night you and some others were there.” I point to his name badge. “One of the Harnden twins kissed my partner.”
“Oh, yeah. We were there. And that would have been Elliot, my brother-in-law. He does dumb stuff like that, but he means well,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m Levi.”
“An’ I’m his son, Riley!” the boy chirps proudly. “Me an’ my daddy are workin’ together today, savin’ animals. Our doggy, Mayla? She’s in Daddy’s truck right now. She is the goodest girl, dat’s why we’re gettin’ her a muffin! Funcle Elliot likes to think he knows what muffin flavor is everyone’s favorite, but he doesn’t know Mayla better dan I do. Besides, Mr. Stuffins makes special doggie muffins here, just for her!”
“Wow.” I stagger backwards, because—holy shit, this kid can talk. “That’s, uh, a lot of information…”
Levi’s lips twitch. “He gets that from my husband, I think. They both like to speak in run-on sentences.”
