EPILOGUE
Seven months later
Shelly
Perching precariously on the white marble edge of our swimming pool, the blazing sun beats down on my shoulders as I try and get the elusive Instagram-worthy shot. Some things never change. And now I’ve got 1.6 million followers to entertain, despite me not wanting one, it’s pretty much become a full-time job.
‘Hurry up, Shelly.’ Marcus urges from the far end of the expanse of turquoise glittering water. ‘We don’t have long. They’ll be back before we know it.’
‘Twenty seconds, then I’m done. I promise.’ Snapping away, I attempt to capture the way the sunlight glistens and shimmers off the water. It’s harder than it looks, especially because I’m battling to see the screen with the glare hitting me squarely in the face.
A low animalistic growl resounds from fifteen metres away and I know I’m in trouble. Marcus’ patience is wearing thin. He’s been insatiable since we arrived in Vilamoura last week.
Throwing the phone down on the nearest sunlounger, I hop into the pool before my horny husband can drag me in by my ankles. I love the way he wants me. At thirty-six years old, I’ve never felt more desired, more confident, and more content with my life.
I hit the cool, crisp water with enough force to dislodge my bikini top, but as we’re in the privacy of our own garden, and the girls are with the nanny, it doesn’t matter a damn. When my head emerges from under the surface, my hot husband’s standing in front of me, with his lips parted. Desire burns in his warm hazel eyes and his tongue traces his lips, suggesting I’m in the best kind of trouble.
Huge hands reach for my breasts, and my head lolls back as his mouth skims the sensitive skin of my neck before dropping to my collarbone and lower.
‘You are so fucking hot, Shelly.’
‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ I finger his perfectly carved abs appreciatively, before locating the waistband of his bulging swimming shorts.
‘We don’t have a lot of time,’ I warn him.
A smirk curls on his lips as he yanks my bikini bottoms to the side, brushing over the most sensitive parts of me. ‘I don’t need a lot of time.’
The hurried footsteps of our housekeeper, Ana, sound across the red-brick paving outside the back of the house alerting us to her arrival. Pink flushes her cheeks as she shields her eyes with the back of her hand. I’m guessing it’s not the sun she’s worried about blinding her.
‘Shelly, Marcus, I’m so sorry, but they’re back early.’
Marcus growls and yanks his hand away. I feel his pain. Maybe Ana will keep an eye on them so we can squeeze in fifteen minutes for a ‘siesta’.
‘Is everything ok? What happened to the nanny?’
‘Oh, it’s not the girls that are back early. It’s the rest of them…’ Ana says apologetically.
‘Fucking cock blocks!’ Marcus shakes his fist at Eddie, James, Callum, Ollie and Nathan as they emerge from the back of the house.
Callum smirks. ‘Hope we’re not interrupting anything!’ He gleefully makes a show of covering his eyes while I shamefully try and locate the other half of my bikini.
‘You were supposed to be at the marina!’ Marcus’s tone is accusatory.
‘And we were…’ Eddie grins. ‘But it got hot and we decided it would be nice to get in your pool. Mine is filled with kids; yours is so much more appealing.’
The gang are renting a ten-bedroomed villa five minutes from our place. Wives, girlfriends, kids, the whole lot. Everyone was in desperate need of a break between the rugby and pouring every free second into the new sport facility.
Already, it’s looking like it’s going to be a massive success. The doors are set to open in September, the week after we leave here. Marcus has left Maddy in charge of overseeing the final details. She’s being employed by the club on a part-time basis as a running coach-cum-manager of funding. Her infectious enthusiasm and quick thinking has been a brilliant addition to the project, and our family.
The girls love having an aunty and a cousin, and potentially a new uncle too! Maddy’s been dating Dean Naughton, the AmericanSexy Come Dancingjudge since the show’s final. They make the cutest couple, complementing each other in every way. She’s fair, while he’s so dark. She’s a ray of sunshine – he needs a ray of sunshine! We broke our ‘no more property rule’ once more, to buy her and Zoe a cute cottage in Clontarf, three miles from us.
Once my bikini is firmly in place, I hoist myself from the pool a split second before Eddie, James, Ollie and Callum dive bomb into it, sending half its contents cascading out over the brickwork. Nathan is slightly more reserved, but not far behind them.
I pull on a white slip over my swimwear and follow Ana back towards the kitchen, calling over my shoulder to them, ‘Drink anyone?’
Six thumbs up give me my answer, and the boys get back to discussing the business they’re supposed to be having a holiday from. Excitement is rising in the run up to the grand opening. Marcus, for one, cannot wait to get running on that pitch, in a coaching capacity of course. Now he’s found his direction again, he’s found the enthusiasm of an energetic teenager and he seems to be applying it to all aspects of his life!
In the rustic kitchen, the TV blares from the corner of the room. Ana claims she likes the background noise while she’s preparing dinner. She probably prefers that to listening to the almost sex show noises trickling in the kitchen window from the swimming pool.
