by Cat Carmine
I let him kiss me, but before we head back to the bedroom, I pause.
“Luke,” I whisper, pressing my lips against the shell of his ear. “When we tell our children and grandchildren the story of how we got engaged, can we skip the fact that we were both almost completely naked at the time?”
He roars with laughter. “Yes — we’ll definitely skip the fact that we were both almost naked.”
I grin. “Luke?”
“Yes, Bree?”
“Can you also make sure to mention that I’m the funny one?”
He laughs again and then silences me with another kiss. Just the feel of his lips against mine makes my pulse race and my knees week. I shiver as I realize this is what I have to look forward to — a lifetime of kisses from Luke.
I sigh happily as I let him lead me to the bedroom.
37
Epilogue
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I stare down at the earring glinting up at me from inside the toilet bowl. Not a-freaking-gain.
With a sigh, I reach down and scoop it out, dropping it into the sink and running hot water over it, then washing my hands. I grab a back-up pair of earrings from the collection that’s spread out over the vanity. Somehow, even at Luke’s place, I’ve managed to accumulate so much stuff that I’m dropping things in the toilet.
Luke pokes his head inside the bathroom.
“Everything okay?” he asks, as he tucks in his shirt. He looks handsome as hell in dark jeans, a charcoal blazer and a white collared shirt.
“Yeah, fine. But if you’re ever wondering what to get me for a birthday gift, or say for Christmas, a jewelry box wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
He grins. “Noted. Almost ready?”
I take a deep breath and turn back to the mirror. Am I almost ready? I have no damn idea.
“If it helps, you look beautiful,” Luke says, his eyes traveling the length of my body.
I’m wearing an emerald green cocktail dress — designed by me, of course — and my long hair’s been painstakingly straightened so that it hangs long down over my back. I even went all out with a few fake eyelashes.
I take another deep breath.
“Thank you. I think I’m ready. Or at least, as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Luke leans in to kiss me. I open to him immediately, because even after all these months, that’s still the kind of effect he has on me. His hands roam my body and I tug at his shirt, wanting the comfort that comes from being with him.
He pulls away. “Not that I ever want to be the kind of guy who turns down sex with the most beautiful woman on the planet, but aren’t we going to be late?”
I shake my head. “I don’t care. I need you.” I smile. “Besides, they’ll wait for me, right?”
He grins. “I guess you’re right about that.”
He pushes me against the vanity and runs his hands up my thighs, hitching the skirt of my dress up in the process. He moves between my legs and pushes my panties aside. I’m already wet for him, my sex aching to be filled by him.
He runs his fingers lightly along my folds, spreading my wetness around, finding my clit and circling it until I whimper.
“Luke,” I breathe. “Nothing fancy. Just fuck me, okay?”
He growls, low in the back of his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”
He spins me roughly so that I’m facing the mirror again and then bends me over the sink. He pushes my skirt aside and yanks my panties down. I know he can tell just by looking how much I want him. My pussy must be so red and swollen and wet.
There’s a pause while he frees himself from his pants, and then a second later I can feel him pressing his cock head up against me. I shimmy backwards, longing to feel him inside me, filling me.
“Oh, Luke, don’t tease me,” I beg.
He chuckles but finally obliges, sinking inside me. I sigh with pleasure and grip the sink as he starts to thrust. It doesn’t take long before my body tenses and then shatters. Luke grabs my hips and rides out my orgasm before claiming his own.
When I can breathe again, I catch his eye in the mirror and grin.
“Now I’m ready,” I say. “Or at least I will be, once I put on some clean underwear.”
The drive into the city seems to take ages, even longer than it usually does. I shake my knee nervously the entire time.
“It’s going to be great,” Luke assures me for the millionth time.
“Mmhmm,” is all I can say.
I think back to the few times I did this drive with Clifford — back when Luke and I were first getting to know each other. Clifford would drop me off Friday evening and not say a word about the fact I had an overnight bag. He was always a gentleman, and I hope he’s enjoying his retirement. I’d invited him to come tonight, but he and his wife are spending the winter down in Florida — I’d shown him how to use FaceTime before he left so that he could still talk to his granddaughter every week.
When we finally get downtown, Luke and I manage to find a parking spot near to the building. We walk the short half block hand-in-hand, and then I take a moment before I go in. This is really happening.
The awning is bright green, and in white letters it says Bounce Couture. A grand opening banner hangs in the window.
Our very first physical location. A huge moment for Margaux and I.
Speaking of Margaux…
“There you are!” she squeals, bursting out the front door in a rush. “Luke, shame on you for keeping her.”
He shrugs and I laugh.
“We can’t blame Luke,” I say. “I had … an issue I needed to resolve before we left.”
Margaux rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to hear about your crazy monkey sex.”
My cheeks color and this time Luke is the one laughing.
“Come on,” Margaux says, linking her arm through mine. “Your friends are already here.”
We go into Bounce to find Hannah, Ally, Trent, baby Libby, Celia and Jace already gathered. Most of them are sipping red wine out of plastic wine glasses.
I look around the space. I’m still in awe that we’ve managed to pull this off in just a few months. The new shop is small, but in my eyes, it couldn’t be more perfect. The walls are white except for one emerald green accent wall behind the cash. Minimalist racks line the other walls, all of them filled with our signature brightly-colored clothing — dresses, skirts and blouses in candy hues and gem tones. The cash itself — which I can only hope will some day be busy ringing away — is on a beautiful wooden counter that Luke made just for me. It anchors the room perfectly.
I get a wave of goosebumps looking around the space. My space.
After a round of excited greetings and hugs, someone hands me a wine glass.
“A toast,” Hannah says, raising her glass. “To my future sister-in-law and clothing-addiction-enabler. We all wish you — and Margaux too — every success in the world.”
Luke squeezes my hand as we lift our glasses.
“I really can’t thank you guys enough. You’ve all been so supportive of this crazy dream of mine, and it really means the world to me. If Margaux and I have to be separated by thousands of miles, I’m glad that I’m building such an amazing network here in Chicago.”
“Ready to officially unlock the doors for the first time?” Luke asks.
I nod excitedly. He takes my glass and I go to the front door and twist the lock to the open position.
“Bounce Couture Chicago is officially open,” I announce. Everyone cheers, while I scan the street. So far we have exactly … zero guests.
“They’ll come,” Luke whispers, handing me back my glass and slipping his arm around my waist. “Don’t you worry. They’ll come.”
I end up having so much fun chatting with the girls that I don’t notice as the store starts to fill up. When I look around again, I realize the place is packed. People are mingling, drinking wine, eating the finger foods that Jace and Celia provided from Two Steves, and browsing through the racks of
clothes. Technically this is just our launch party, but I’d be more than happy to sell some clothes tonight.
The night passes in a blur. I talk to so many people about Bounce, and I’m completely in my element. Every once in a while I catch Luke’s eye, and he grins. He’s been in a great mood ever since Trent went back to work and took over the CEO role. Now that Luke can be back in his workshop every day, he’s a happy camper.
He’s been even happier, though, since Loft & Barn finally went public a couple of weeks ago. Their IPO was even more successful than anyone anticipated, and Luke and Trent are thrilled. Luke and I had celebrated that night when the stock markets closed for the day … oh, how we had celebrated. I flush just remembering how insatiable he’d been that night.
As the night wears on and the crowd finally dissipates, I go to find Margaux.
“What do you think? Not too bad, right?” I say with a grin.
She shakes her head, laughing. “Not too bad,” she agrees. She’s been helping out with sales all night, and now she holds up a tablet. She points to something on the screen. “That’s exactly how ‘not too bad’.”
“What’s that?” I ask, looking at the number.
“That’s how much money we made tonight.”
My jaw drops. I look around the shop and realizes the racks have been completely picked over. There’s almost nothing left.
I laugh. I feel almost delirious. “That’s crazy.”
She shakes her head. “That’s what I’d call a success.”
Eventually everyone at the party clears out, and then it’s finally just Luke and I. I look around incredulously.
“We sold almost everything,” I tell him in awe.
“I know,” he says grinning.
“I can’t believe it.”
“I can.” He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. “I’m so proud of you, Bree.”
“Thank you.” His confidence in me has been unwavering, but his pride means even more to me.
He grazes his lips against mine and then pulls back. “You know who else would be proud of you? Your dad.”
My breath catches. “Do you think?”
Luke nods. “I know. This is exactly what he wanted for you, Bree. You were in your element tonight, and I think he’s up there somewhere, looking down at you and beaming with pride at the woman you’ve become.”
My eyes fill with tears, but somehow, I know in my heart that he’s right. My father is up there, and he is watching, and I do hope he’s proud of me.
“Dad,” I say into the empty store. “Don’t watch this part, okay?”
And then I lean in and kiss the man I love.
THE END
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Also by Cat Carmine
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Bigshot Boss is a super steamy standalone contemporary romance — no cheating, no cliffhangers, and a candy-sweet happily ever after. <3
Get Bigshot Boss on Amazon!
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About the Author
Cat Carmine is a romance writer, a wine drinker, a cookie eater, a dog lover and a country dweller. She loves — and writes — stories about very bad men and the feisty women who tame them.
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