Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(139)

“Okay, what, baby?”

“Okay, we can try to be friends again.”

I smiled, pulling her into my arms. Feeling her against me for the first time in over three years was like coming home. She wrapped her arms around me, holding me in the exact same way. My girl was in my arms again. Where she belonged. I would prove myself worthy of her love and trust. I didn’t care if it took the rest of my life.

She was mine.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was ever going to let her go. I loved her too f*cking much.





Epilogue





<>Austin<>



Four and a half years later



“You ready?” I asked my baby girl.

She stopped building her sand castle and looked up at me. She got her long, silky brown hair from her mama and the freckles sprinkled across her nose from me, but those bright blue eyes she shared with both of us. She fervently nodded, standing up, brushing off the sand from her chubby little legs and her purple two-piece bikini that Briggs insisted was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

“Hold on, Amari,” Briggs said to our almost three-year-old daughter.

She walked over to us from her beach chair and helped Amari wipe off the sand.

“Turn around, baby girl,” she said, wanting to tie Amari’s long hair up high on her head so it would be away from her face.

Briggs strapped on her life vest and I made sure it was securely in place, tight against her chest. Amari ran over and kissed her eight-month-old baby brother, Michael. We named them after Briggs’ parents, and I was already trying to knock her up with a third. To give her the big family that she always dreamed of.

It took a little less than a year for her to tell me that she loved me again, even though I told her every f*cking day. We started off as friends like we did when we first met, flirting relentlessly, cuddling, and laughing all the time. She slept in my arms every night like old times. The first time we kissed was on my birthday, exactly what I wished for when I blew out my candles. We had been together for three months by that time, but it felt like we’d never parted ways. It was as if nothing had changed between us.

The first time I tasted her again, bringing her to ecstasy with my tongue and fingers, was on her birthday. It was three months after mine. That was my gift to her. The best f*cking orgasm she’d ever experienced. She wanted to make love right then and there, she actually begged me for it. It took everything inside me not to give her what she wanted. I told her she couldn’t get my cock again until she told me she loved me.

Sound familiar?

She finally said it the day I received my four-year sobriety chip. I didn’t waste any goddamn time. I asked her to marry me and knocked her up on our dock out back. We were married on those same wooden planks less than a month later. The same day she told me she was pregnant.

I was paranoid as f*ck with her pregnancy. Since she had suffered a miscarriage before, she was a high-risk pregnancy. I barely let her lift a finger. I waited on her hand and foot, giving into her every crazy request. Turned out her pregnancy was normal, and she went full term without any complications. We both wanted to focus on Amari being the only child for as long as we could. Finally getting the baby girl that I’d dreamt about for years.

Amari was the spitting image of her mama. She already started asking to dye her hair bright pink, her favorite color. Briggs bought her some pink clip-in hairpieces instead. She was so damn cute when she wore them, carrying around her “Briggs doll” that she stole off of her mama’s shelf in her office, claiming it was hers now. She took it everywhere, and it made Briggs smile every time she saw it. Our son, Michael, was the spitting image of me. Briggs claimed that he already had my “I-don’t-give-a-f*ck attitude.”

“I’m ready, Daddy,” Amari said in her tiny baby voice, standing in front of me with her arms up in the air.

I picked her up, placing her on my back. Her little arms wrapped around my neck while I held on to her under her butt. I crouched down kissing Michael on the forehead. Grabbing Briggs’ chin to kiss her pouty pink lips.

“I love you,” I rasped against her mouth.

She smiled. “Be careful.”

“Always am.”

I kissed her one last time. Grabbing my surfboard, we made our way into the water.

“You ready, baby girl?” I asked, lifting her higher on my back.

She nodded. “Yep! Let’s do this,” she replied, enthusiastically kicking her legs at my sides.

I laughed, strapping the leash on my ankle. Lying on my board, I paddled out with Amari safely placed on my back. Her arms were tightly wrapped around my neck, practically choking me. The first wave hit and I dropped in, holding onto Amari tight before I stood. I caught the wave with her on my back like I’d done countless times. Riding it all the way down the peak along the shoreline.

“Yeah, Daddy! Let’s hit a big one!” she yelled in my ear.

Amari loved surfing. She was my little daredevil.

It was one of her favorite things to do with me. We had been surfing like this since she turned two. My baby girl was definitely going to be a surfer when she got a little bit older and could swim better. As soon as my son was old enough, I would do the same with him. All the boys had done this with their kids. It became our thing. Wanting to give our kids something that was so special and dear to our hearts.