EPILOGUE - DAWSON
I slam the backseat of my car door shut and hold onto the very obvious gift bag that I’ve been wanting to give Emory for the better part of the last week. It’s not terribly heavy, a few pounds or so, but I know it’ll match the impact of a boulder flying down the side of a mountain.
With excitement in my step—because I have a lot to look forward to in my life again—I make it to the beach entrance point and nearly race down the ramp to the sandy terrain. The tourist season is long gone, and in its place, is the lifelessness of winter’s approach. Although, the water is always alive and thrashing, no matter what the weather is around it.
I glance out at the waves and how they roll from one into another until there’s a sudsy film on the surf. It’s midafternoon, and even though the sun is out and warm, there’s a frigid breeze that sweeps inland with the pull of the tide.
My eyes track down the shoreline, and then I spot her—my Emory, my honey, my whole fucking world. My heart immediately lights when I take notice of her hair whipping against the wind, even if half of it is underneath a tan beanie.
There’s not a single day that goes by that I don’t realize how damn lucky I am. For a split second, I think of my ex and how it was so easy for her to bail. And how she got into my head, making me think I was too difficult to be there for. I’m not saying I wasn’t, but I also think people are always willing to go the extra mile and sit in someone else’s discomfort when they truly love that person.
Naturally, I walk in Emory’s direction, because where she is, I always want to be. Every single day since I’ve known her, she’s wielded this super power over me. For the most part, she’s humbly oblivious to it. It makes me love her all the fucking more.
I’m quick to cover the distance between us, my shoes slipping in the sand with every step. She has her standard setup behind her—a blanket, her bag, and camera. Since it’s been cold, she’s added a thermos of hot tea to that list. I’m usually the one that prepares it for her each morning before I’m out the door for work.
These days, I spend a lot more time in the hospital setting and travel to Coralhaven’s sister hospitals in surrounding counties when I’m needed. It makes for long days, but the best part is always coming home to Emory and witnessing the absolute love in her eyes when I walk through the door.
It never falters.
It never fades.
And it’s not shrouded in fear—something I thought would happen with how quickly our relationship has grown. Lance kicking her out and her having to find her own footing has been challenging, but she’s handled it like the queen she is.
She doesn’t hear me approach, too caught up in the breeze on her face with her eyes closed as she faces the ocean.My brave little soul.There was a time she wouldn’t have dared to do such a thing, and especially not by herself.
I gently place the gift bag on the blanket and walk up behind her. I lift my hand and collect her hair. It’s almost like fire in my palm this time of year. Her body doesn’t jump like I expect it to, which means… “You heard me, didn’t you?” I pull her hair over one shoulder and rest my opposite hand on her waist.
“You’re never quite as quiet as you think,” she murmurs in a slow breath, one that’s doused in calmness. To say it’s been a sweet victory to see her healing process is a huge understatement.
I drag my nose along her neck then up to her ear. “That’s rather interesting because I could say the same thing about you.”
There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, I surrender to the truth that statement holds.”
I sneak my hand up under her jacket—thankfully, it’s not skintight—and spread my palm over her warm stomach, my pinky dipping dangerously close to the band of her jeans. I hum. “Anything else you’d like to surrender to, Miss Prescott?”
She relaxes back into my hold, going as far as separating her legs a step—an invitation if I ever saw one. I press two slow kisses to her neck, loving the way she squirms in my hold. “Dr. Cole, I’m not sure you’re supposed to be asking me that.”
“Mmm, well, I guess it’s a really fucking good thing I’m not your doctor anymore then, huh?”
“More than that, you should be happy Lance never went through with his threats to report you to the board.”
I let out a sigh of relief, because for a little while there—when Lance was still abhorrently angry over what transpired—he told Emory that he was going to contact the state’s licensing boards and have my license revoked.
Much to our surprise, he never followed through. I’m not exactly sure why, though we think it might have something to do with the new woman he’s been seeing. From what we know, she’sserved as a good distraction for him, filling his cup in all the ways it likely felt empty.
She swivels around, and my hand misses her immediately, but it’s okay because having her face solely on mine is the next best thing. She peers up at me with so much happiness in her eyes that it nearly brings me to my knees. Hell, it’s happened multiple times in the past. I’m not ashamed to admit it.
“What can I say, I’m one lucky guy.”
Her hands frame my face, and she pulls me to her. “I’d say so,” she says before sliding her perfect mouth against me. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is, she always tastes like a vanilla sundae.
Her tongue slips into my mouth first, and I groan in appreciation when it languidly glides against mine. A line of fire zips down my back, and I guide her backwards toward her blanket, gently pulling us down onto it. She’s quick to assume one of my favorite positions—her on top of me—as I lean back on my hands and let her have all control.
I’m desperate for more when she pulls away an inch and says, “Do you think this is ever going to fade?”
My eyes stay closed, and I jut my chin out, stealing a quick peck from her. “No.”
“That’s it? Just—no?”
