by Frankie Love
13
Cassidy
I’m speechless.
It’s been one hell of a night, shifting rapidly from anticipation to fear and sorrow, and now this… this unbelievable sentiment from a man who makes my heart skip a beat whenever he looks at me.
“You do?” I finally manage to ask.
“Yes,” Chuck says. He’s got both my hands clasped in his own, and his warm brown eyes are melting my insides, smoldering inside me. “Cookie, I can’t pretend any longer that what we’re doing is just casual—I think I loved you the first minute I saw you.” He smirks and adds, his voice lowered, “Definitely by the first time I made you come.”
My cheeks are burning and my heart is racing.
I’m thinking about the conversation I had with my mom right before I left the house tonight. She’d think I was nuts if she knew I was hesitating right now—hopeless romantic that she is, she’d be telling me to jump into his arms and tell him I feel just the same.
Because I do.
I love him.
“When I walked down the stairs the night of our blind date and saw you for the first time,” I say, “I thought that you were the man of my dreams. I couldn’t have built a more attractive mate from whole cloth.” Now it’s my turn to smirk. “But at the restaurant, I kind of thought you were a dud.”
Chuck laughs. “Yeah, I knew I was blowing it then. I was just trying so damn hard not to listen to the little voice in my head that was telling me how perfect you were.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he says. “I redeemed myself, right?”
I nod. “A few times over.”
“Hey, it’s nearly midnight,” Chuck says, glancing at his watch. “Let’s go outside for a few minutes. Maybe we don’t have to miss the meteor shower after all.”
I let him lead me through the hospital and we find a door out to a courtyard where employees and patients can get a little fresh air. It’s deserted at this time of night, and the air is brisk. Chuck pulls me close to him, wrapping his jacket around me while we stare up at the sky. A few faint meteors streak across it.
There’s a lot of light pollution because of the hospital, and this isn’t nearly as sexy as watching the sky from a blanket in Chuck’s expansive back yard, but as I snuggle against him, I know that I don’t need romantic surroundings. I don’t need big adventures, or even grand gestures.
All I need is him.
“The body knows things a long time before the mind catches up to them,” I say softly, and Chuck bends his head down to kiss my temple.
“Hmm?”
“That’s a quote from The Secret Life of Bees,” I tell him. “Charles mentioned it during the book club discussion and it’s one of my favorites. It’s the truth.”
Chuck takes my waist in his hands, turning me to face him. “Cookie, tonight has made me realize just how fleeting life can be. We don’t get any guarantees. My grandfather almost died tonight, and my parents died in their thirties, when they were just a little older than I am now and they still thought they had so much living left to do. I don’t want to waste another minute of my life, and I sure as hell don’t want to live with regrets about the things I didn’t do just because I was scared.”
“What are you scared of, Chuck?” I ask, even though I think I already know the answer. It’s the same thing I’m afraid of—loving and losing, putting our hearts out there only to see them broken.
Instead of answering, he says, “I still have one speed dating question left for you.”
I smile. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“Well, here it is,” he says. “Cassidy, will you marry me?”
“Oh my God,” I breathe. This time, I don’t hesitate. Not for a second. “Yes, Chuck, yes I will.”
I jump straight up and wrap my thighs around his waist, and he catches me and spins me around as we kiss.
Deep.
Long.
True.
When I open my eyes, another meteor is streaking over us in the sky and I know in my heart this is right—this is my Prince Charming and I’ve found my happy ever after.
Epilogue One
Chuck
One Month Later…
We decided we didn’t want to wait to get married.
Neither of us wanted a huge ceremony, and even though I could afford to give Cassidy any kind of elaborate wedding gown and fancy venue her heart desired, all she wanted was to be married in the back yard at her parents’ farmhouse, where the memories of her childhood meant so much to her.
All I wanted was my grandfather to see us get married and to be able to call that beautiful, incredible woman my wife at the end of the day.
So here we are, one month later, nearly two months to the day after our blind date, on our wedding day. Two of Cassidy’s younger sisters, Lydia and Jane, came home from college just to celebrate with us, and Gramps is out of the hospital and on the mend. He’s in physical therapy for some mobility issues that arose after the stroke, but his doctors say he’ll make a full recovery with time.
The biggest surprise is the fact that he’s got a date with him.
Just a little while before the big moment, Gramps strolls into the back yard with a woman on his arm, her white hair swept up into an elegant bun and a red rose pinned to her dress. When I come over to greet them, Gramps introduces me to her.
“This is Evelyn,” he says. “Cookie will recognize her, we met at senior book club, after all. Neither of us wanted to miss seeing you two be married.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re happy,” I tell my grandfather, who, for all his harping on the fact that I was single for so long, has lived alone and tended my grandmother’s rose bushes in solitude for many years.
The ceremony begins a few minutes later. It’s perfect, with my guys from the brokerage as groomsmen and Nora and Brooklyn as Cassidy’s dual maids of honor.
When she comes down the makeshift aisle toward me, Cassidy steals my breath away. She looks like a princess in a wispy chiffon dress. It comes down to her knees, and I smile when I notice she’s wearing the red heels she wore on our first date.
I can’t wait to say “I do,” and I steal a kiss from my new bride before our officiant tells me I’m allowed to.
At the backyard reception after our vows, I can’t keep my hands off my Cookie—if all our guests got up and left suddenly, I might not even notice. I’ve only got eyes for the curvy librarian who stole my heart.
I’m leaning in, whispering all the dirty things I want to do to her when we get to our honeymoon suite tonight, when Nora and Brooklyn descend on us. Nora fusses with Cassidy’s veil, trying in vain to make her look even more perfect than she already is, and Brooklyn is sipping champagne as she says, “You know you two are ridiculous, right?”
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“Two months ago, this one was complaining to us about how the dapper old gentleman in her book club wouldn’t stop trying to hook her up with his grandson,” she says, rolling her eyes in Cassidy’s direction. She picks up her friend’s hand, pointing to the big princess-cut diamond and the brand-new wedding band on her ring finger. “And now you’re married.”
“Well, what can I say?” Cassidy says. “I wasn’t ready, and then I met Chuck and I was.”
Nora smiles, a touch of their mother’s romanticism evident in her eyes. “We should all be so lucky.”
“Why don’t you mingle some more?” I suggest. “You never know when you’re going to meet The One.”
Now it’s my new sister-in-law’s turn to roll her eyes at me. Clearly, she’s not sold. She and Brooklyn tell Cassidy how beautiful she is, and how happy they are for her, and I have to agree with all of it. But when they wander off again, I’m glad we’re alone once more.
“Cookie,” I say, taking her by the elbow to pull her close to me. “I can’t wait a minute longer to find out what you’ve got on under that pretty little dress. Do you think we can sneak out of here?”
She laugh
s. “Sneak out of our own wedding? No, I think they’ll notice that we’re gone.”
“Damn it.”
Then she cracks a smile. “But that doesn’t mean we have to stay all night.”
An hour later, I’m carrying my wife across the threshold of the hotel suite we booked for the night. My cock is already rock-hard and aching for her before the door is even shut—hell, I’ve been fighting a losing battle with my desire to rip that dress off her all day.
Now that we’re finally here, I throw her down on the big, plush bed and all those layers of fabric float around her.
“God, I want to crawl underneath that dress and live between your thighs,” I tell her, kicking my shoes off and loosening my tie.
“We’ve got all night, baby,” she says, inching the bottom of her dress up her thighs teasingly. Her eyes go to the bulge of my trousers and she licks her lips. God, how I love seeing my length in her mouth. The idea alone has my cock throbbing, eager to be freed.
I strip naked while Cassidy’s eyes stay locked on me, reading me like an open book. But when she sits up and reaches for her shoes to take them off, I say, “No. I want to be the one to undress you. And first…”
I crawl onto the bed, separating her thighs as I crawl beneath the many layers of her skirt. I run my hands up her soft, bare legs, and I groan with happiness when I see the delicate, lacy white, crotchless panties my wife is wearing.
“Goddamn, you are perfect,” I say as I nudge her thighs over my shoulders and bury my face in her dripping pussy.
“I thought you’d like those–” she says, but then I take a long swipe with my tongue and cut her words off instantly. She’s reduced to moaning and writhing beneath me, which happens to be exactly how I like it.
I close my lips around her clit, sucking and teasing with the tip of my tongue. Cassidy arches her back as I slide my fingers deep inside her. She’s moaning unintelligible things and bracing against the bed as she locks her thighs firmly around my head. I really could stay like this forever, tasting her, feeling her pussy gripping my fingers as I make her come.
But I need her on my cock.
I need her screaming my name and raking her fingernails down my back.
I need to fuck my wife nice and hard.
She’s so close right now, her juices coating my fingers and her core squeezing me desperately. But I’m a greedy bastard and I want her first orgasm as a married woman to be with my cock buried deep inside her.
So I pull back amid her whines and complaints.
“I’m so close,” she says, reaching for me.
“Baby, I’m gonna make you come so many times tonight, you’ll be begging me to stop.”
I roll her onto her back and she lets out surprised, pleased yelp. I make quick work of the zipper on the back of her dress, and then I peel it down her shoulders, past her curvy hips and over her plump thighs. I unclasp the lacy white bra she’s wearing and take that off her too, until she’s in nothing but those crotchless lace panties—the perfect mix of innocence and lust—and, of course, the red Mary Janes.
I lick my way back up to her, from her calves to her inner thighs, over the supple curve of her ass, and up to the small of her back, where my scruff tickles her and she presses her ass upward against me as she laughs.
Good God, I need her.
Now.
“Come here,” I growl, then grab her by the hips and flip her over and pull her onto my lap all in one swift, hungry motion.
Cassidy’s straddling me, my cock pressing against her slick, hot sex. She bites her lip as she looks into my eyes—my gorgeous goddamn wife, all mine. Then she cracks a smile and grinds against me. “Is that a hardcover I feel, or are you just happy to see me?”
“I’m just happy to see you,” I say. “Always.”
And then I lift her up and plunge her down on my cock. That puts an end to her little jokes as she’s once again speechless. Her mouth drops open and her eyelids shutter as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts riding my cock.
“Oh Chuck,” she moans. “You feel so good.”
“So do you,” I tell her. “Incredible.”
I’ve got her hips in my hands, thrusting along with her, and I don’t know what I was thinking all those days and weeks that I wasted telling myself I couldn’t have anything serious with her.
This woman is my life.
My everything.
My always.
We come together, her pussy milking every last drop of hot seed from my cock, and I can’t wait to do it all over again.
Epilogue Two
Cassidy
Five Years Later…
I’m curled up on a great big beanbag chair, my daughter Clara in my lap, when I hear the front door open and Charles shouts, “Knock knock, anybody home?”
“Great Grandpa’s here!” Clara shouts.
She knocks The Very Hungry Caterpillar out of my hands in her rush to get downstairs and I laugh. I guess that’s the end of reading time with Mommy, but at three, Clara is already ahead of her age range, anyway. Chuck and I read to her every single day and she takes great pride in telling everyone she meets that her name is Clara, spelled C-L-A-R-A.
Honestly, I’ve never been more in love in my whole life than I was the day our sweet girl was born.
And now, five years after our wedding day, Chuck and I have everything I could ask for. An adorable daughter. A beautiful home. The most doting grandparents and great-grandparents on the face of the earth. And most importantly, each other.
I follow Clara downstairs, where we find Great Grandpa Charles in the foyer with Evelyn. They got married not long after Chuck and I tied the knot—nobody in the McArthur family wastes time once they know what they want, and Charles proposed to Evelyn just as soon as he’d recovered sufficiently from his stroke to get down on one knee.
Now, he’s perfectly healthy again and Evelyn does a wonderful job of making sure he stays that way—watching his diet, refilling his prescriptions, going for long walks with him to make sure he gets his exercise. It’s everything Chuck used to do for him, so now all he has to worry about is spoiling our little girl.
Speaking of which…
“Charles, what is that?” I ask when I catch sight of a giftwrapped box on the entryway table.
“Just a little something for the best little girl in the world,” he says, lifting Clara into his arms.
“For me?” she says, her green eyes lighting up.
Chuck says she’s going to be trouble when she’s older—she already knows how to wrap Great Grandpa around her little finger, and she acts surprised and delighted every single time he brings her a present… which happens to be every single time he visits.
“It’s not even a special occasion,” I object, knowing it’ll do no good. “We’re just having dinner.”
“We’re great grandparents,” Evelyn says. “We don’t need a special occasion to bring presents.”
Charles sets Clara down and Evelyn hands her the package. She tears it open in about two seconds flat, then shrieks with delight. “Look, Mommy, it’s letters!”
“It’s an alphabet puzzle board,” Charles explained. “Because we want our girl to be the smartest kid in kindergarten.”
I laugh. “That’s not for another two years.”
“Well, she’s got plenty of time to get the upper hand, then,” he says. “Right, Snickerdoodle?”
“Right,” Clara says, popping up from the floor. He holds out his hand and she takes it, and we all follow our noses to the back yard, where Chuck is manning the grill.
He’s wearing a cheesy ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron that I bought him when we moved into the house. This place is the perfect blend of Chuck’s old place, with a view of Golden Creek, and my parents’ farmhouse, cozy and filled with family. And the view I’ve got right now—of my husband crouching down and scooping our daughter into his arms—is the best part of all.
Charles and Evelyn go over to the outdoor dining table to set o
ut the plates and silverware, and I go over to Chuck.
“Are they done yet?” Clara is asking as he presses on one of the steaks he’s grilling and a hiss of juices hit the coals beneath.
“Almost,” he says. “Why don’t you go help Gramps?”
He sets her down then playfully snags one of her pigtails, holding her in place long enough to kiss the top of her head. Then she’s gone and Chuck wraps his arm around me.
He kisses me too—on the lips instead of the crown of my head—and we turn to watch our little girl and Charles and Evelyn. They spoil her, sure, but the truth is so do we. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“This really is happily ever after, isn’t it?” Chuck says with a contented sigh.
“Almost,” I say.
He looks down at me, one eyebrow raised. “Almost? What’s missing?”
“This is a beautiful story, better than anything I could have written for myself,” I say, then I put my hand on my stomach. “And it’s about to get another sequel.”
Chuck’s eyes light up. He whispers, “Are you saying we’re going to have another baby?”
I grin. “I just found out this morning.”
“Oh my God,” he whoops, calling over to the others. “Hey Snickerdoodle, there’s gonna be another little Chocolate Chip around here soon!”
“What?” Clara asks, wrinkling her nose in utter confusion, but Evelyn’s eyes are round and I’m pretty sure Charles got Chuck’s cookie code, too, because he’s grinning just as wide as I am.
Yes, life is good and I can’t wait to live happily ever after.
About Frankie
Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men.