Epilogue
Cal
Cal observed his wife through the half-open door. In those pink Prada heels and a dress that most likely cost a damned fortune, she looked good enough to eat. “You look beautiful, Mabel,” he said, coming to stand behind her. He observed her apply lip gloss in the mirror as her wedding ring and matching band glinted in the light.
“Even after all this time, I still get nervous before these. I probably shouldn’t have had that second slice of vegetable casserole,” she added with an uneasy laugh.
He gathered her dark hair and brushed it over to her shoulder, then dropped a kiss to her neck.
“We’ve got a little time, and no one vying for our attention yet. I could help you take the edge off. We wouldn’t want you going on stage feeling broody and uptight.”
She bit her lip, then leaned into him. “No, you’ve got broody covered,” she teased, reaching back and patting his cheek.
He ran his hands down the length of her torso, then gathered the fabric of her dress and inched it up her thighs to find a welcome surprise.
This farmer’s naughty wife was missing something.
“Someone forgot their underwear,” he said, lowering his voice as he cupped his hand around her most sensitive place.
At his touch, she hummed her pleasure. “Nobody forgot anything. I know how turned on you get watching me wolf down a truck driver-sized portion of one of Logan and Preston’s casseroles.”
He rocked his palm against her sweet bud as his middle finger teased her entrance. “There’s something so sexy about watching a drop-dead gorgeous woman devour hot, fresh, organic food,” he growled, playing along.
They were in Chicago to attend the Ecological Organic Farming Association’s convention, and Mabel was due on stage to deliver the keynote speech.
Yep, that’s right! They’d made it big-time.
The group had put them up in a swanky two-bedroom suite with a Farm to Table restaurant located in the lobby that happened to be owned by their good friends, Preston and Logan. The chefs had made sure that every meal they ate was a delicious creation crafted with farm-fresh organic foods straight from Elverna.
They didn’t need their passports for this trip. But that didn’t mean they’d been buried in a drawer or locked away. No, along with visiting the Eiffel Tower with the woman he loved, they’d crisscrossed the globe.
New Zealand, London, Tokyo, Tahiti, Venice, Dubai, Barcelona.
Thanks to the Blaine Influencer Talent Agency, Chelsea had connected them with movers and shakers in fashion and organic farming from all over. And with each new country and corner of the world he explored with his wife, he’d always quietly thank the Young sisters for helping him see the light. And he’d say a special prayer for his mother, choosing to see her not as neglectful and reckless but as a complex woman who’d done her best for him.
Now, instead of shunning the outside world, he dove right in. The food, the languages, the cultures! With Mabel by his side, they soaked it in. They learned from the people they met, and they shared the skills and farming processes they’d acquired with others.
Eat Elverna was not only a co-op now, but a corporation. Their mission was to adhere to sustainable farming practices, just like he and Jamie had planned, and they never strayed from that doctrine. He was at the helm of the business’s agricultural arm while Mabel handled the marketing, PR, and product expansion.
In the two years since he’d proposed to her in the middle of that New York City farmers’ market, which was livestreamed all over the world, life had moved fast. Elverna had doubled in size. With demand for Elverna grains, produce, and dairy products shooting through the roof, the town was hiring. They added good jobs for farmhands, drivers, and a myriad of positions in the Eat Elverna warehouse and manufacturing plant.
That’s right, a manufacturing plant that Elias and Claudine—yep, she was his girlfriend, the sly dog—managed for them.
They’d taken the old rundown factory and converted it to make what Mabel called Eat Elverna swag. Hats, mugs, gardening tools, water bottles—you name it, they slapped the Eat Elverna lettuce heart on it, and the merch sold like hotcakes. They’d also started a line of jams, honey, gluten-free flour, and pickled vegetables set to hit several large grocery store chains.
“Cal, I want to feel you inside me,” Mabel gasped.
That was the invitation he needed. He whipped off his belt and undid his pants as she watched him in the mirror. There was something so erotic about having her eyes on him. She ran her tongue across her top lip, and a dizzying current fueled by lust tore through him.
“There’s that horn of plenty,” she purred.
This woman!
“I’m going to make you come so hard that everyone in this hotel will hear you call out my name,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.
“What a dirty talking broody farmer you are, Mr. Horner,” she answered on a breathy sigh.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he countered as he bent her over the sink and positioned his cock at her entrance.
Making love to his wife never got old. In fact, every day, something new about her bewitched him.
He slid in slowly, then inhaled a sharp breath as she tightened around him. He gathered her hair into his hand and wrapped it around his fist, giving it a little tug. She arched her back and released a sweet cry.
“Are you ready to have it quick and dirty in the bathroom?” he said, filling her to the hilt.
She caught his eye in the mirror. “What are you waiting for?”
Absolutely nothing!
Her body writhed as he worked her in deliberate, punctuated thrusts. Watching her take every inch of him sent a ripple of excitement straight to his hard length. The friction between them grew frenzied. Together, they found a tempo that had them on the edge, hovering between the need for more and succumbing to tantalizing carnal release.
He slid his hand between her thighs and cupped her sex. On the cusp of being carried away, he caressed her sweet bud as the uneven rhythm of her breathing told him she was close—so very close.
“Yes, Cal!” she cried, meeting him blow for blow as they careened off the side of the cliff and crashed into an ocean of oblivion. He was lost, so damned lost, and she’d found him, loved him, and he’d spend the rest of his life worshiping this extraordinary woman.
He kissed her neck and inhaled her honey-lavender scent as the heady rush of their climax wound down.
“We’re getting good at quick and dirty,” she panted, catching her breath as he dropped another kiss to her temple.
“We’ve got a lot on our plate now. It’s not as easy to spend the day sweaty and tangled together in bed,” he replied with a playful squeeze to her ass.
She sighed a deliciously sated sound, then checked her watch. “Oh no! I’m on in fifteen. Can you bring—”
“You go,” he said, cutting her off with a final kiss to the crook of her neck before pulling out. “I can take care of everything here. I’ll see you backstage.”
Thanks to the beauty of bathroom quickies, something they’d gotten quite good at this past year, they cleaned up quickly, and she hurried out the door—but not before blowing him a kiss.