“I don’t want you to leave.”
My brow furrowed. “Then, I won’t.”
A shuddering sob tore through her. “I was so scared.”
“Baby.” I held her more tightly to my chest. “I’m fine. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She hiccupped a breath. “Promise.”
I kissed her hair. “You’re stuck with me for good. And you know how stubborn I am. So good luck getting rid of me.”
Jensen relaxed into me. “I probably won’t always be, but right now, I’m glad you’re so dang stubborn.”
I chuckled, then leaned forward to brush my lips against one temple, then the other, and finally her forehead. “I love you.” I’d told her every day since I’d woken up, and I was keeping my promise to tell her every day for the rest of our lives.
Epilogue
Jensen
ONE YEAR LATER
“Wake up, Wilder.”
I let out a moan, and not the kind that gave me the warm and fuzzies. “Go away. Too early.”
Lips grazed one temple, the other, and then my forehead. “Rise and shine, sleepy head.”
I rolled over to find Tuck standing over our bed, dressed in jeans, boots, and a jacket. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s six o’clock.” Normally, I was fine with early rising, but it was my day off, and Tuck had kept me up well past my bedtime last night since Noah had been at a sleepover.
Tuck had never moved out after his gunshot recovery. He’d moved seamlessly into my bedroom and our lives. I kept waiting for Noah to freak out. But he never did. Tuck had finally reminded me that he’d been in Noah’s life from the day he was born. Now, he was just around more. At some point, I’d have to tell Noah what had happened with his birth father, but he was still way too young.
Tuck tugged on my hand, trying to get me to sit up. “I have something I want to show you.”
I growled at him. “You couldn’t show me at a reasonable hour? Like eleven, after you’ve fed me some brunch?”
Tuck chuckled. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”
I pushed out of bed, heading for the closet. “It’d better be.”
Tuck stared at my ass as I went. “For this view? Already worth it.”
“Not for me,” I called from between the racks of clothes.
“Give me time, Wilder. Just give me time.”
I pulled on clothes, not paying attention to what I grabbed as long as it was warm. When I emerged from the closet, Tuck laughed. “What?”
He pointed at my shirt and then my sock-clad feet. My flannel shirt was misbuttoned, and I had on two different socks. I shrugged and rebuttoned the shirt. Tuck held out a coat. “Don’t want you catching a cold.”
He hadn’t grown any less overprotective over the past year. If anything, he was more so. But we’d found our rhythm. He’d figured out a way to stand beside me when I needed him instead of always being in front. But I knew if I ever needed him for something, he’d be there.
And our relationship wasn’t the only one to find its groove. Tuck and his father had found their way, too. It wasn’t perfect, but it was so much better than it had been. Craig had stayed sober from the day of Tuck’s accident on. He’d never gotten back together with Helen, but that had been the best thing for them both. They were getting along better now than I had ever seen.
“Need caffeine,” I grumbled.
Tuck chuckled as he led me down the stairs. “I’ve got you covered.” On the table by the door were two travel mugs. He handed me the one with the tea string peeking out.
I inhaled the brew. Cherry blossom green tea. My favorite. “You’re marginally forgiven.”
