Bonus Epilogue for Romance by the Book
WILL
Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Jessie’s hair fans around her, she’s sprawled on the bed, the comforter a fluffy white cloud. Her skin shines from the swimming pool and the straps of her bathing suit slip down her shoulders.
She grins at me and crooks a finger, beckoning me to join her. I drop my towel to the tile floor and decide to forget about the shower I was about to take. I climb onto the bed, wrap my legs over her, and use my thumb to wipe a water drop from her cheek.
“You like it here?” I ask, brushing a kiss to the edge of her mouth.
“Are you kidding? We just swam in our private infinity pool while a camel train walked by.” She holds up her fingers and ticks items off. “We’re staying in a luxury Bedouin tent in the desert, with handmade furniture and a private chef. Look at the fabric ceiling, look at the cedar beams holding the tent up, look at the beautiful rugs! I feel like Aravis in Calormen. This is Narnia come to life. We rode horses through the golden sand, a falcon perched on my arm! Will, this is my ultimate fantasy. I love it here.”
“Are you sure?” I grin down at her, stroke her bottom lip with my thumb. “Because you know, I could add a few more romantic items to my list.”
Jessie catches my thumb with her mouth and sucks, biting gently with her teeth. With that, my mind clears of lists, and romantic plans, and everything else.
“Or, we could stay in today,” Jessie says, pulling her mouth free.
I nod. “We should stay in.”
Jessie’s bikini is too much clothing, so I slip it off her glistening skin and drop it to the rug. “That’s better.”
She pushes my swim suit down my legs.
We’re a connection of searching hands, twining legs, tugging mouths. When I stroke my hands over Jessie she rises toward me, and it reminds me of the golden, undulating sand outside the tent, the sunrise, just spreading over the warming sands.
I dig my hands into her hair, tilt her face to mine.
“I want you.”
Her hands ride over my back, and the vibration of the sounds she makes when I push inside her are like the winds riding over the sand, tumbling through the oasis.
This.
“I love you.”
The sun spills over the sands and falls into our tent, across our wet skin. I gather Jessie close and we ride the wave.
After, I pull her close. Her eyelids drift shut and she rubs her cheek against my chest.
“Did you know, I never expected a romantic list to actually work,” she says sleepily.
I smile, “Of course it worked. I’m Will Williams, everything I plan works out.”
She snorts and in retaliation I pin her down and kiss her. She laughs against my mouth. “Fine. Fine. You’re right.”
We arrived in Dubai five days ago for my little brother’s christening. Jessie has two weeks off work, and I plan to make the most of every second. When she told me about her romantic book rom com list for winning Gavin, my mind started working…and I decided that Dubai, being one of the most luxurious cities in the world, would be the perfect place for a list of my own.
“What have you liked best?” I ask.
“You.”
I smother a smile. “Besides me.”
“Your little brother.”
I can’t argue with that. Tyler was adorable. His chubby cheeks, his muddy blue brown eyes, and his irrepressible good humor, already evident at four months, made him completely lovable. Jessie was smitten and I couldn’t blame her.
I was worried about how my dad would act, even after our London chat, but true to his word, he’s mellowed, and refocused on what’s important in life. It doesn’t hurt that Delia is charming and doesn’t hesitate to let my dad know if he’s out of line. I never thought I’d say this about anyone my dad chose to date, much less marry, but Delia is good for him.
I nudge Jessie. “Besides my brother. What have you liked best romance-wise?”
“Hmmmm.” She flashes a smile. “What have we done? I’ve forgotten everything except the sexy times.”
“The dhow boat,” I prompt.
The first night here I hired a private dhow boat to sail Dubai Creek. The boat was lit up with sparkling lights, the Old Souks were on one side and the beautifully restored Al Fahidi Historical Neighborhood with its soaring wind towers were on the other. Our dhow glided through the night black water, and Jessie and I leaned over the railing and watched the sparkle of the lights paint the water. Our kiss, Jessie leaning against the railing, the smell of sand in the air, is a moment I’ll never forget.
“Mhm, that was nice,” she says. “But not my favorite.”
“The dinner at Ossiano?”
The second day, we had dinner at Ossiano. We drank wine and ate delicious food inside an aquarium with sharks and stingrays swimming around us. Then a scuba diver swam up to the aquarium window and held up a message for Jessie, ‘Heaven just got a little closer.’
The way she looked at me, love in her eyes, is burned like sunlight into my memory.
“The food was good,” she says, laughter repressed in her voice.
I give her a mock affronted glare. “The miracle gardens?”
We toured the massive gardens, with sixty million blooms. There was a castle made of flowers, a massive floral airplane, and an arched walkway made completely of floral hearts. We went with my dad, Delia and Tyler. As we strolled through the heart walkway, Delia started to hum the wedding march. At the notes, Jessie grinned at me and I winked back.
“I guess it was okay. I think the rose garden in Romeo is prettier.”
I laugh. Of course she does. So do I.
“So? None of those were your favorite?”
“Nope.”
I push her to her back and lay on top of her again, bracing myself on my forearms. “Then, I’d have to guess, that your favorite part was…”
She purses her lips and flutters her eyelashes. “Yes?”
“The flight.”
She snorts and smacks my chest.
The glint of her engagement ring catches in the morning light.
“Not that?”
She shakes her head no.
“Then maybe it was Burj Khalifa?”
“Nope,” she says.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Burj Khalifa is the tallest building in the world. Jessie and I had a private dinner at the top, Dubai laid out below us, the desert sands, the turquoise water, the buildings like tiny models below. She went to New York to meet me at the top of the Empire State Building, because in the movies, the observation deck is where true love happens. I took Jessie to the tallest building in the world, so I could tell her how high my love was, how big. I proposed.
And she yes.
“If that wasn’t your favorite, then…what?”
I brush her hair back from her forehead.
“My favorite part…”
I nod. Wait to hear her answer. Place a kiss to her temple.
She reaches up and touches her hand to my chest. “My favorite part, is knowing that everything that happens, all the magic, all the romance, it’s all in here.” She presses her fingers to my heart. “And all in here.” She drops her hand to her own chest. “And everything I feel for you, it’s not going to end when we leave Dubai. It’s going to keep on going for the rest of our lives. That’s my favorite part. Knowing that I get to keep you. I get to keep you forever.”
The smile that forms on my face reaches all the way into my heart.
“Good answer.”
Her return smile holds the world. “I thought so.”
We’re quiet for a moment. I’m thinking about our home back in Romeo. About the kids we want to have. About the wedding we’re planning. A Christmas one, I think. About all the days, and all the years ahead.
I lay on my back, pull Jessie against me, and stare up at the graceful lines of the tent’s billowing ceiling. “Should we go on a camel trek today?”
Jessie looks over at me. “That sounds like something Gavin would do. Have you heard from him?”
I shake my head. I haven’t heard from Gavin since he went on a white water rafting trip to win back Lacey. That was three weeks ago. He’s disappeared for longer though. I’m not worried. Yet.
“He’ll call when he has news. He didn’t want to come to the christening anyway. He has enough to deal with.”
“Yeah. Still. I hope he wins Lacey back. I hope he’s okay.”
I nod. But soon I forget about my brother, about camels, about everything but Jessie, and the fact that we’re getting married, we have our own private tent in the desert, and we have nothing to do but enjoy each other all day. And as Jessie likes to remind me, for all the rest of the days of our lives.
GAVIN
Somewhere in West Virginia
My head hurts.
There’s a crowbar in my skull tearing my brain apart. I can’t think it hurts so much. I want to peel the pain away, scratch it out of my head.
I glare at the woman standing in front of me. She’s not pretty. I don’t know why this strikes me as something I care about, but there it is. She’s not cute.
“Who are you?” I flinch at the noise of my own voice. It feels like nails punching into my head.
She blinks at me. And I decide to amend my earlier opinion. She’s not pretty, but her eyes, her lavender blue eyes, are stunning. She nervously licks her lips, her pink tongue darts quickly over her wide mouth and she looks down at the hospital sheet pooled around my hips.
“Billy,” she says, her voice is soft like flowing honey. “It’s me, Jamie.”
I start to shake my head, but then stop. Because that hurts too. I want to say, who is Billy, but then I realize that must be my name.
I can’t remember…I can’t…I can’t remember my name.
Billy.
Okay.
“Who are you?” I ask again.
She clasps her hands in front of her chest, innocent blue eyes wide, frizzy red hair a halo in the hospital light. “Baby, it’s me. Jamie. Your wife. I’m here to take you home.”
Her face blossoms into a beatific smile, like the Madonna under the shining light of heaven. I can’t say anything, except… “No.”
Because, I don’t know who I am, I don’t know who she is, and I don’t know what’s going on. But I do know one thing. I never would’ve married a short woman with red frizzy hair, a flat chest, unflattering clothes bought off the rack at a discount superstore, and a southern drawl that sounds like it’s echoing off a hillbilly’s mountaintop.
I would never do that.
I don’t know who I am. But I do know that I have a certain taste in women, and this Jamie person doesn’t hit the mark.
At all.
“Sorry. No.”
She grins at me. “Aww. Come on, Billy baby. The kids are waiting in the station wagon.”
That’s when my world screeches to a halt.
“Kids?”
“Course. Elijah, Tanner, and Shay. Lord almighty, Billy. How hard did you hit your head?”
We’re married?
We have kids?
I’m…Billy?
I grasp my pounding head in my hands.
“I’m Billy?”
The woman, Jamie, drops a sharp peck on my cheek. “Always the jokester. Come on, honey, you’ve got work in the morning. Pumping the poo outa the outhouses.”
And that’s when I know. The reason I can’t remember who I am, is because I didn’t want to. An unattractive wife? A station wagon? A horde of snotty-nosed kids? Pumping poop?
Apparently, my life is hell.
And by the stubborn look on the woman’s face, this nightmare life of mine, it’s not going away.
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