Epilogue
Oakley
A year and a half later…
“Order up, Mabel!” I call out to a packed Grind Time.
Willow slides behind me, grabbing my ass as she walks over to the pastry counter and wraps up a croissant for a customer.
“Watch it, Trouble,” I warn.
She winks at me as she passes by, and I shake my head, knowing I’ll tie her up later for playing grab-ass at work.
“You two are just the sweetest. When are you getting married?” Mabel says as she grabs her coffee.
“Why thank you, Miss Mabel, but nothing on the schedule yet,” Willow says sugar sweet. She meets my eyes and gives the look I know all too well means she’s about to kill off Mabel in her next book. I have to turn around to hide my laughter.
We talked about the possibility of getting married, but both of us felt it wasn’t something we needed or wanted to be together. The gossips in town can’t figure us out and frequently bug Willow about it, hence she kills them off all the time.
“Why don’t they pester you about this shit?” she grumbles as she stands next to me.
“Because they know I’ll withhold paninis if they do.”
“How is that fair? I run this damn place with you now. How do they just ignore me when I throw threats like that out?” She throws her hands up in exasperation.
“Because, deep down, they know you’re a softie who would never withhold food.” I press a kiss to her temple, smiling as she huffs in annoyance.
“You’re a softie too. They just don’t ever see it.”
“And they never will. That is saved for you, Will, and only you.”
She looks up at me with nothing but love in her eyes. It’s been like this since we finally caved on our attraction to each other, and it’s only grown since. Every single day, I think it’s impossible to love her more, and I’m proved wrong every single time.
Her fingers intertwine with mine, squeezing my hand in hers.
“I really don’t want to leave when you’re being so adorable, but I need to get this chapter done.” She sighs.
Oh yeah, the apartment upstairs got a complete overhaul. We tore down all the walls, added an area for all of her stock and swag—as she calls it—and made her dream office a reality. She alternates between writing and working at Grind Time with me. When inspiration hits her, she goes upstairs and writes until she can’t anymore. It’s the perfect setup really, and it’s helped her finish four more bestsellers.
That’s right, my woman is officially on the bestseller list without an end in sight. The book she wrote during the whole Tennison ordeal bumped her to a level of success I think neither of us were prepared for. It’s been a damn whirlwind, but I’m so damn proud of her.
“I’ll bring you up a latte once the crowd dies down a little more.”
“Add an extra shot please. I’m dragging ass today.”
I don’t even try to hide my smirk. She’s dragging ass because I edged her for over an hour before taking her nice and slow, drawing some intense orgasms out of her.
I subtly reach down and adjust myself in my jeans. Her eyes follow my hand, and a mischievous grin lights up her face.
“I’m game for a repeatafterI finish this chapter, greedy man.”
“Done. I’ll have your latte ready in a few.” I pull her to me, kissing her in what many would consider inappropriate for the workplace.
She pulls back, patting my chest with a slight blush permeating her cheeks, and heads to the stairs.
God, I love that woman.
The bell above the door dings, pulling my attention away from the sexy-as-sin woman I get to call mine walking up the stairs.
