Page 90 of Prelude of Love
I looked at Duke over my shoulder, sharing a silent conversation with my husband before turning back to Chance. “You belong with us, hon. This is only the beginning.”
Chance’s breath caught. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Duke assured him, his voice gentler than I’d ever heard it with anyone besides me. “Just be here with us now.”
A small smile tugged at Chance’s lips as he settled more comfortably against me. “I can do that.”
We lay together in comfortable silence, our breathing synchronizing as our bodies cooled. The profound connection between us felt like it had always been meant to be.
Eventually, Duke untangled himself from our embrace. “I’m getting a washcloth. Don’t fall asleep yet.”
I watched him walk naked to the bathroom, admiring the view. “No promises.” They had worn me out in the best way possible.
When he returned with a warm, damp cloth, he cleaned me first, then Chance, his touch reverent andcareful. The tenderness in his actions spoke volumes about his love, even if he wasn’t ready to put it into words yet for our Princess.
Once we were clean, Duke tossed the washcloth before he rejoined us on the bed, pulling the covers over our naked bodies. I enjoyed being wrapped in their warmth.
It amazed me how sometimes life could give you what you needed, even when you didn’t know you were looking for it. In Chance, we’d found our missing note, not because our song was incomplete, but because with him, our duet had become a beautiful three-part harmony. And music had never sounded sweeter.
Epilogue
DUKE
THREE MONTHS LATER
The morning lightspilled over the garden, painting everything in soft gold. I paused at the back door, surprised to find Chance outside. He sat on the bench beneath the maple tree, a notebook balanced on his knee, pen moving across the page with purpose. His sandy-blond hair caught the sunlight, making him look angelic, although I’d never tell him that. His ego was big enough already.
Three months had transformed him from an exciting fling into something essential that I couldn’t imagine living without, though admitting that still scared the shit out of me sometimes.
I stepped onto the patio, the wooden boards creaking under my weight. “Morning, Princess.”
Chance looked up, his blue eyesbrightening. “Hey.” He shifted his notebook to give me room to sit. “Where’s Early?”
“He’s making coffee.” I settled beside him, glancing at his work. “New song?”
“Maybe.” He tilted the page toward me, a gesture of trust that didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m playing with some lyrics.”
I scanned the words, feeling a familiar rush of pride mixed with awe. His talent never ceased to amaze me, even when I pretended to be casual about it. “It’s good. Really fucking good.”
“Yeah?” His smile was softer than the one he showed the world.
“Yeah.” I brushed my thumb across his cheek. “You know I wouldn’t bullshit you about music or anything else.”
The back door opened, and Early appeared with three steaming mugs balanced expertly in his hands. His blond hair stuck up at odd angles, and he looked petite in one of my T-shirts that hung almost to his knees. Seeing him in my clothes still did things to my heart, even after all our years together.
“I told Duke we should wait until after your coffee, but he’s impatient,” he teased, handing mugs to us before settling on his other side with his own.
Chance’s eyebrows raised with suspicion. “What are you two up to?”
Early shot me a conspiratorial smile over Chance’s head. The morning sun caught in his gray-hazel eyes,turning them almost silver. I’d seen that look thousands of times over the years, but it still hit me square in the chest. That look was home.
“Nothing bad,” I assured Chance, surprised by the nerves fluttering in my heart. The feeling was utterly foreign because I didn’t get nervous about anything. But the unfamiliar sensation only confirmed what I already knew: Chance mattered. He’d become as essential to me as Early, as necessary as breathing.
Chance took a long sip of his coffee. “Should I be worried? Because you two seem like you’re plotting something, and last time you had that look, I ended up with whipped cream in places that still make me blush when I think about it.”
“Never worry with us,” Early interrupted, squeezing his hand. “Not ever.”
I cleared my throat, finding it difficult to speak. “Princess, you changed everything from the moment you first walked into my bar.”
