Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“Really?” I say.
He nods, reaching over to tenderly cradle my cheek.
Underneath his gentle touch, I can feel the tingling possibility of how he wants to claim me.
“You’re perfect,” he growls. “I’ve never loved you more.”
Extended Epilogue
Ten Years Later
Kristian
“Daddy, look, I’m just like you,” little Bruno says, stomping up and down the bed with my suit pants just about clutched in his hands.
I sit up, the sun glistening through the window. I can smell bacon coming from downstairs, the sizzle of it just reaching me through the large space of our mansion. I sniff, beast-like, scenting the food.
“Am I the last one up, bud?” I say.
Bruno grins. “Sunday Daddy means lazy Daddy, right?”
I chuckle and dart my hand out, scooping my four year old into a hug and lifting him up. He laughs and squirms.
“More like hungry Daddy,” I laugh. “And I think I want Bruno for breakfast.”
“No, not for breakfast, Daddy,” Bruno giggles, slapping me on my back.
“No?” I say. I sit him on my knee, bobbing him up and down. “What shall I have, then?”
“Bacon,” he says. “Mommy said get Daddy because it’s time for bacon. And we love bacon, don’t we, Daddy?”
“You’re right about that, Bruno,” I say. “What’s say we go on down and have a feast?”
“Too late,” my wife says, appearing at the door with two plates in her hands. She’s wearing one of her flowing summer dresses, her apron pressing close to her curves.
The births of four children have only made her body more curving, more appealing, alighting fresh fires of desire in me every time I look at her.
Her blonde hair tumbles down her shoulders, radiant in the morning sun.
“And what’s our punishment for lateness, wife?” I laugh. “Breakfast in bed?"
“I know, I know,” she laughs. “But it’s only because baby Bruno is so cute. It has nothing to do with Daddy, right, Bruno?”
Bruno laughs. “Mommy, you’re funny.”
“No, you’re funny,” Kimberly says.
Looking at her now, nobody would guess that she’s one of the biggest players in the art world, using the success she helped Jackie succeed with to make a name for herself. Now she helps talented, struggling artists get a chance in that cutthroat world and I couldn’t be more proud. She’s even started making art out of some of her pottery, small experimental pieces.
She’s a constant beautiful fascination to me.
I take the plate from her, our fingers brushing.
“Thank you, Kimberly,” I say. “I love you.”
She smiles at me, looking just like she did the day we met when she was a stranger for a second and then my partner for the rest of time.
“I love you, Kris.”
Always and forever.