Epilogue
FOUR MONTHS LATER
CHLOE
Snow falls in big flakes around me and a sweater-clad Baxter as we walk down the street. Barrett had questioned the sweater I put on him this morning, but now I’m glad he’s got protection from the elements. Baxter knows when we’re close to home, because he’s familiar with our route, but it could also be because it’s currently lit up like the Empire State Building.
The vision I’d had for decorating Barrett’s—ours now—brownstone windows with lit up wreaths for the holidays has been executed. We spent the weekend before Thanksgiving hanging them. Barrett didn’t understand why we couldn’t hire someone to do it and I had to explain to him that it was half the fun to do it yourself. He finally got into the spirit and I rewarded him with a stellar blow job, our newly lit Christmas tree twinkling in the background.
The large main floor window contains the nine-foot Douglas Fir covered in enough lights to be a fire hazard. It looks perfectly magical.
I should be used to the sight by now, the Christmas decorations have been up since before Thanksgiving. Since the weekend before we flew back to Colorado to celebrate the holiday with my family. My parents had met Barrett at Lauren’s wedding, and they’ve been a fan of his since the beginning, but it was fun to see him with my siblings. I think not taking work and himself so seriously has given him the capacity to open up to people more easily. He fit right in with my family. Helping my mom prepare dinner. Throwing a football around with my brothers and dad while I ogled him from the sidelines. Talking with Lila about the business classes she’s taking this semester. She seemed to care less about Barrett’s take on business strategy and ethics than she did having his attention on her. When he wasn’t looking, she started fanning herself.
Inside, I hang up the garment bag in my hands, then my coat. After Baxter shakes the dusting of snow off himself, I take off his damp sweater and hang it up, too.
Baxter moves toward the study and I follow him. Inside we find Barrett sitting at his desk. Baxter saunters over to Barrett for some affection before settling into his bed near the fireplace. When I push the door the rest of the way open, his eyes find me in the doorway.
“Hey,” he says, his voice deep and raspy. Just that one syllable makes my stomach flutter.
“Hey,” I say, taking in the scene. His computer is off, no cell phone in sight, just a glass of scotch sitting on his desk. I glance over at my desk. Since I officially moved in, Barrett rearranged his office to fit a desk for me. I insisted I’d use it for work, but I’ve yet to sit at it. Instead, it’s piled high with manuscripts and trade paperbacks that I’ve found at the used bookstore we frequent on weekends.
I edge in between him and the desk, his hands move to squeeze my hips.
“Sorry I’m late. Shopping with Emma is fun, but time consuming.”
“It’s fine,” he says, pressing his lips softly to mine. The taste of him, a mix of scotch and spice and maleness that is distinctly Barrett, melts in my mouth.
MARRY
The WordIt word today flashes behind my closed eyes. Thinking about it again sends a rush of excitement through my body.
I had been surprised. At first, I thought it was MERRY for the upcoming holiday, but one incorrect letter had proven me wrong.
MARRY
I’ve been reminding myself all day that while Barrett’s company owns WordIt now, he’s not directly in charge of the words. And, since he confessed to purchasing the app and using it for his benefit where I was concerned, he has refrained from interfering with my favorite word game.
We’ve talked about it. Marriage, that is. But it’s always been something we’ve said would be further in the future. Not four months after we officially started dating.
Barrett wraps his arms around me and I feel content.
With the snow falling outside and the fireplace casting a warm glow against every surface of the room, I’m struggling to be excited about going out tonight. I could stay here in this cozy space kissing Barrett, among other things, all night. But JoAnna is having a holiday party and it would be frowned upon if we didn’t attend.
Barrett smiles. “I’m glad you had fun. Did you buy anything?”
“I found a dress for the SCM holiday party.”
“I can’t wait to see it.”
“It’s backless.” I smile wickedly as Barret narrows his gaze.
“Of course, it is,” he says, kissing my neck. I give into the feel of his warm mouth for a minute, then sigh when I force myself to pull away.