by Lark Avery
I pulled Liv into my arms, kissing her. I was so grateful she was my wife. And I couldn’t agree more.
8
Epilogue #2: Liv
Five Years Later
Tristan was working late again. Being Snow Ridge’s sheriff kept him busy as the community had grown. At nine years old, Leo was sleeping over at a friend’s house. I’d gotten his four-year-old sister, Lucy, bathed and in bed. Her singing had quieted down, so I hoped to god she was asleep.
We’d moved just outside of Snow Ridge a few years back. There was plenty of room for the kids to play and me to have a garden to grow my herbs in the short summers. My house in town was still the salon. I’d converted the former living space into more retail as soaps were popular with the townspeople and tourists alike.
I eased myself down in the rocking chair, propping my feet up on the footstool. I still had several months to go in this pregnancy, but it was great to have the nursery all set. It was a soft yellow color as we didn’t know yet if we were having a boy or girl. One thing was for sure, whatever gender this baby was, it liked to kick the heck of out of me. I shifted around, trying to get comfortable.
I liked savoring the anticipation of Tristan’s return. I didn’t have to wait long.
His footsteps on the stairs made my heart quicken. I loved him even more than when we married. I wasn’t even sure how that was possible. It probably had something to do with how he was a wonderful father and cared so much for this community. Not to mention the excellent care he provided for me. He supported my business and encouraged me in ways I never thought possible.
He popped his dark head in the doorway. “Hey there, pretty lady. Trying to hide out from me?”
The sound of his deep voice touched something deep in my soul.
And I creamed my panties.
I started to rise.
“Don’t get up.” He entered the room before squatting down to face me. His dark hair had a few gray streaks now. I brushed his hair back, enjoying the thick locks curling against my fingers.
His eyes sparkled with love.
“Had a good day?” I asked, the fingers of my free hand laced with his.
“Pretty good. Missed you and the kids. How’s the Lovebug?” His gaze dropped to my belly.
“Perfecting the art of kickboxing.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Barlow.” He leaned forward. “Hey Lovebug, take it easy on your Mom. She’s pretty special.”
About the Author
Lark Avery prides herself on her abilities to procrastinate, find excuses to drink wine before noon, and go days without wearing real pants. She entertains herself by writing outrageous, filthy romances full of cocky heroes, wild women and over-the-top escapades. When she’s not writing, she enjoys binge watching angsty teen dramas and finding new places to hide the good snack cakes from her family.
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Also by Lark Avery
Lucky In Love Series
Rocking Her World Always
Tempting Treat
Christmas Quickie
Unwrapped for Ransom
Bossy Biker
Bossy Surgeon
His Virgin Valentine
Mister Boss
Mister Protector
