Sunshine City: Five
A/N: We have reached the end, my loves. Thank you for coming along on this little journey with me. Thank you for all the wonderful comments, likes, and reblogs. I owe you my heart.
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)
Word Count: 5.5k
Rating For This Chapter: NC-17 for Whiskey being Whiskey and putting his moustache to good use (female-receiving oral), penetrative unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, loves), just a whole bunch of mush because I love a sappy happy ending.
Catch up previous chapters here!
Perhaps learning that it was Agent Moonshine that had set them up shouldn’t have been a surprise. How many times had Jack “taught Moonshine a lesson” about manners—both in and out of the field? Moonshine had apparently been burning for some more-permanent payback and thought getting rid of Jack in the field would regain some of his honor.
Whatever.
Both Moonshine and Alice had disappeared into Statesmen’s holding cells about six months ago and Champ dealt with them. She didn’t ask what happened and she didn’t want to know. All she cared about was that Jack was okay and she knew what it felt like to have Jack’s arms wrapped around her without the confines of the mission and she knew that he liked to smile before he pressed his lips to hers.
She loved how he kissed. Loved how he held her tight like she was something—someone to be treasured. Loved how he always tried to make her smile even when they were thousands of miles apart or if he had managed to sequester her alone in some room of the Kingsman headquarters, or in her townhouse—or even that one time when he’d managed to get her alone in Champ’s office last week when she was needed stateside for a mission. He stole a kiss then, too, feeling like mischievous teenagers hiding from too-strict parents.
It was…good.
Better than good, actually. It was all much too sappy to say out loud but she felt happier than she had in a long time. Like she had shed some sort of heavy coat made of metal and wool and she could move and breathe without restraint. She would never tell Whiskey—his ego was already insatiable—and she had a feeling he might have an inkling he knew how she felt.
“I’ve never seen you smile like that, Sunshine. Do it again.” As she thought: insatiable. And it felt like they had readily settled into some idyllic relationship that a person could only dream of having. They spoke as often as they could, about anything and everything—Jack even told her about the discussions he had with his therapist and she spoke about the nightmares that sometimes plagued her in the dark. They bickered, of course—they were human, but it was usually few and far between and over trivial things (like which agency had the best tech or Bela’s favorite movie) and over before they really began. It was good. But at the moment, she had just finished a mission in Singapore and expected to hear her phone ring with Jack’s Skype call. They kept tabs on each other’s missions and always called one another when they came home. Bela zoomed down the staircase and leapt on his little legs into her outstretched arms. Her dog-sitter, a Kingsman technician, happily reported Bela behaved himself while she was away before saying goodnight. She pressed a few kisses to Bela’s fur and locked up the doors and windows before pulling her phone from her pocket, ignoring her suitcase for a bit longer. Bela settled on her lap as she pulled up the app and was just about to dial Jack’s number when Ginger’s face appeared on her screen with an incoming call. Ginger was back stateside to assist Statesmen with some sort of kidnapping ring and had been giving Sunny updates every few days. She answered it quickly. “Hey! I’m about to-” “Jack’s been shot.” “What-” “Let me finish,” Ginger said in her usual calming tone. “He’s going to be fine. But he wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry he couldn’t make your usual call.” Ginger’s lips picked up in a small smile, probably trying not to laugh at her fellow agent’s mortified expression. “For a pair of agents, you two are very bad at keeping your relationship a secret.” And then Ginger did laugh. “He’ll call when he’s cleared by medical. Okay?” She pushed out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” “He’s fine, Cap. I promise,” Ginger said, old moniker slipping by her lips. A few more words of encouragement were given, mission details were traded, and eventually they hung up. Her appetite gone, she eventually wandered upstairs to her bedroom and simply stared at the ceiling. Bela was asleep on her chest, giving her a little comfort. And she knew Statesmen had some of the best medical team and technology available. She knew Jack would be fine. But it still… hurt. Worry bit at her bones and pressed at her already-buzzing mind. There would be no sleep tonight.
**
Whiskey did not like the smell of the medical wing. He did not like the bright white lights. He did not like the stupid paper gown they insisted he wear after sewing him back up. And he definitely didn’t like watching Champ settle into the chair next to his bed with a frown.
“Ain’t you supposed to be the one leadin’ the charge, Whiskey? Grenadine said you were distracted-”
“I was fine, Champ. I had it handled-”
“You’re in the medical wing. Did you forget that? Or did you hit your head, too?”
Whiskey felt his lip start to curl in a snarl. “My head’s fine and you know it.”
Champ’s frown deepened before he let out a sigh, pulling out a silver flask from his blazer jacket. He grabbed two of the small plastic cups from the bedside table, usually meant to hold medications, and poured two shots of amber-colored liquid. He slid one toward Jack before quickly downing his and putting away his flask. “You’re a good agent, Jack. A fine Statesman.”
Jack quickly grabbed the offered shot and drank it, knowing no conversation that started with compliments like that was ever good.
“But you want more than that.”
“Champ-”
“I’m old. Older than you and I’ve worked my entire life to save the world and the people in it—usually from themselves. And I got squat to show for it outside my big office and nice car. But you-” he pointed a finger, “-you have a chance at something real. Another chance. Those don’t come around every day. And you two have been tip-toein’ around each other for years.”
And, for a moment, Jack Daniels didn’t have a word to say. It was embarrassing to realize that everyone seemed to know they had moved past the fellow-agent relationship. But it was also strangely calming to know that people beside him and his Sunshine wanted them to be happy—together.
“You’ve saved the world enough. I know you’ve been thinkin’ about retiring anyway.”
“I-”
“Give it a little more thought. Visit your lady, yeah?” Champ said as he stood and patted his chest. “Take the next week off. I’ll have Grenadine handle the debrief.”
“Champ-”
But he was already out the door.
**
She wiped at her eyes, trying to press a bit of exhaustion out of her head with limited success. But Harry had accepted her debrief and then let her go for the rest of the day. “
Mordred, you’ve nearly fallen asleep twice just sitting here. Go home.”
Not her finest moment but she wasn’t going to say no to a nap. Maybe if she was asleep she could ignore that she still hadn’t heard from Jack. Ginger did say he would be fine but it still didn’t sit right with her and-
“Hey, Sunshine.”
She dropped her keys.
There he was, posted up against the side of her house, one foot kicked up behind him on the white-washed wall with his stupid Stetson pulled low over his eyes. She leapt at him and pulled him close, sagging into his grip as he wrapped his arms around her. He was so warm and wonderful and here. His familiar, expensive cologne touched her nose as she breathed him in, laughing at how he pressed his lips against her neck, mustache tickling her skin.
“You’re here,” she said as she pulled back.
He stole a quick kiss with another smile. “I am. Champ gave me some time off. I guess I should get shot more often.”
She quickly grabbed at his face. “No. That’s not funny-”
He kissed her again, smiling against her frowning mouth. “Are you going to invite me in or do I have to hang outside your door like a lost tomcat?” Jack bent and scooped up her keys and pressed them into her hand.
“You drive a hard bargain.” She slipped from his grasp and moved toward the door, undoing the three locks and stepping inside, Jack right on her heels. She closed the door behind him, only just noticing the small bag slung over his shoulder before he kissed her again. She would never get tired of kissing him.
But now was the first time in six months since she was alone with him—six months since Edinburgh. Six months of only stealing kisses and wandering hands when others were around and not having a moment truly to themselves. But work came first. Saving the world wouldn’t stop because she wanted to kiss him and hear his laugh.
And she really loved the sound of his laugh.
But then she yawned right in his face when he broke away from her lips to breathe.
“Now, Sunshine, you truly know how to cut a man to the quick.”
She laughed and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I got no sleep last night.”
Jack wound his arms around her and pulled her tight again, uncaring that they were still right beside her front door, barely a few steps inside. “And why not?”
“Ginger told me what happened and then you didn’t call. I was worried.” Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, thumbs rubbing against the buttery soft leather of his jacket. “Stupid in our line of work, right?” Her laugh was soft but sharp with self-deprecation. And she knew it was stupid. Knew that her line of work that nothing really was promised. That her time with Jack, no matter how much it made her smile, was never guaranteed.
“I never meant to-”
“It isn’t you, Jack. It is just… me, I guess. I think I worry too much.” She stepped back as she yawned again. “Sorry, jeez.”
But Jack just smiled. “Tell you what, Sunny. I’m here all week. I’ll let you worry about me all you want.”
“A week? Jack, you know I want to but I have to wor-”
Her phone chirped.
“Shit, sorry.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and frowned when she saw the message. It was from Roxy and it simply said;
Have fun! See you on Monday. ;)
It took a moment, but if finally dawned on her what it meant and she tossed her phone onto her couch with a smile. “It seems that I’m not expected back in the office until Monday.”
Jack let out a holler and all but started to drag her toward the staircase. She had to slap his hands away to lock her door before she let him grab at her sides and strong-arm her upstairs. Her laughter finally woke Bela from his mid-morning nap and he poked his head out of the guest room to let out an indignant huff at their noise before retreating again. Jack knew where her bedroom was, having been there for a total of ten minutes after Scotland, and he basically dragged her inside and plopped her onto her overstuffed mattress, rumpling the blankets immediately. And she happily let him crawl over her and pressed her down into the welcoming softness as he shucked his shoes and jacket. Hers soon followed with fumbling limbs and they both laughed as Jack continued to kiss her lips, her cheek, her nose, her neck—anywhere he could place his lips was quickly kissed.
She let him pull his shirt off and divest her of her own and they both scrambled with their jeans and trousers before falling back against the pillows in a pair of matching, tired huffs. Maybe she should have been a little more demure about this casual near-nakedness—it was the first time they’d bared this much skin with each other—but all she felt was comfort when he looked at her. Some beautiful, gentle warmth bloomed in her chest as she looked at him.
Jack leaned forward to press a slow kiss against her lips as one of his hands landed on her hip, thumb tracing the lacy edge of her panties.
And she might have let him continue—let herself finally know what it was like to be touched by him in that way—but she yawned again and her eyes caught the fresh scar on his shoulder. Her fingers brushed against it, feeling how the skin was raised and twisted, something even Statesmen’s tech couldn’t stop with some injuries.
Jack’s hand stilled on her hip. “I’m okay, Sunshine. I’m right here with you.” But then he touched the mark across her stomach, the one she’d gained from their time in Italy. His fingers trailed to the scar on her chest and then down to another zig-zagging twist of puckered skin on her side. She shivered at the contact, nerves alight. “And you’re with me, yeah?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m with you.”
“Good.” He smiled, soft and tired-eyed. “Let’s get some sleep.” He reached back and managed to pull her sheets and blankets down enough for them to slide underneath and then slid an arm under her shoulders so he could bring her to his side as she closed her eyes. And she fell asleep to the quiet beat of his heart.
**
She found Jack liked Hyde Park, free museums, and having tea. “It ain’t sweet tea, Sunshine. But it’ll do.”
And he never pressed her for more than a few heated kisses and she never swatted at his wandering hands, even when they seemed to always gravitate toward her ass when they were alone—he did have the sensibility to keep them above the waist when they were outside her house.
Again, she was struck with how easy and domestic it all ways. No one was shooting at them. No one was trying to poison them or use them for information. All they wanted from each other was each other.
It was just her and Jack and Bela and the occasional autumn rain sliding against the windows. And she let herself believe that her life could be like this—simple and fulfilling and quiet. They both had enough money in the bank to live very comfortably if they both wanted to leave—but she was definitely getting ahead of herself. In the grand scheme of things, she didn’t even know if Jack wanted that. What if he wanted to live out the rest of his life as a Statesmen, retirement be damned? Did she want to be in Kingsman for the rest of her life? Those thoughts didn’t stop her from realizing that her house finally felt like a home when he was inside it.
But when Jack’s lips found her neck as she finished drying the last pan from breakfast and his still-damp-from-the-washing hands wrapped around her waist, wetting her pajama shirt, all thoughts disappeared. All there was—was Jack.
“What are you up to?” She asked with a smile, turning in his grip to wrap her arms around his neck. His hair was still mussed from sleep and he had on only his boxers and a t-shirt, but he was handsome—so handsome in the low morning glow.
He didn’t answer but grabbed at his phone on the countertop and pulled up an app behind her back and soon Johnny Cash’s voice started to croon over the small speaker and flood the kitchen. She instantly recognized the tune and had to laugh. “Really, Jack?”
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he sang along, letting his fingers trail along until one of his hands was wrapped around her waist and the other was holding her hand against his chest.
She grasped his shoulder and let him lead her in a swaying, mellow version of a dance as the sunlight trickled through her kitchen window and painted everything in a hazy yellow while the air still smelled of sticky syrup and pancakes.
“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,” he sang, slightly off-key, the words muffled into her cheek, but they made her heart leap all the same. “Please don’t take my sunshine away.”
“This is a sad song, you know,” she said without making a move to change it.
“Yeah, I know,” he replied. And he sounded sad, too.
And that just about did her in. Well, that and the fact that he was set to be back in New York tomorrow. She pulled out of his grasp and grabbed at his phone, switching to another song with a forced smile. But the smile became real when he laughed at her choice, low and rumbling in his chest.
“Dolly and Kenny?”
“This song is a classic!” She argued, letting him pull her close again and she tried to follow him in an abbreviated two-step jaunt that had her laughing and pressing a kiss to his perfect, single dimple. But the song eventually ended, fading into another and then another. And their steps slowed too, once again simply swaying on her cool tile floor. “I don’t want you to be sad—not with me.”
His next breath was slow but his grip tightened. “I think you make me the happiest I’ve ever been, Sunshine.”
“You make me happy, too.” She turned, murmuring the words into his chest like a secret, like if she said it too loudly it would be used as a weapon. “We really wasted a lot of time, didn’t we?”
“But we turned up exactly where we’re supposed to be.” He turned to press a kiss to the top of her head. “You know I love you, right?”
And her heart sprouted wings in her chest while the smile splitting her face almost hurt. “Yeah.” She turned her head just enough to look up at him, seeing him already looking down at her. “I love you, too.”
Easy. It was so easy. And they continued to sway to the music even as he turned his head just enough to catch her lips again in a kiss that so sweetly stole the breath from her lungs. Her lips were slick and tender from his ministrations but it was an ache she would gladly live with, especially when he gently grasped her face in his hands to angle her face just-so, leading the kiss until she was unmoving in his hold. Her hands circled his wrists and she sighed against his mouth. A different kind of heat was starting to curl in her stomach like perfumed smoke that left her whining when Whiskey pulled back to breathe.
“You look so pretty like this, darlin’. I’ve never seen you look like this before.”
“Like what?” Her voice was hoarse.
“Like you want me to eat you alive.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest at the dark, hungry look in his eyes. Heat took root in her stomach, clenching her muscles and her hands unconsciously fisting the soft material of his shirt. “Oh.” She swallowed the dry lump in her throat. “You…you want to?”
And he laughed and kissed her again—god, she could never get enough of his lips. “You gonna let me?” His warm hands slid down to grab at her hips and he tugged her a little closer. “Huh? You gonna let Jack eat that pretty-”
Her hand pressed against his mouth as she bit back a laugh. “Don’t refer to yourself in the third person if you want to get anywhere near me.” And then she felt him smile against her fingers. “I mean it.” The words were stilted with her laugh which only grew when she felt his lips pucker so he could kiss her fingers.
He reached up to gently remove her hand, the hungry look in his eyes now sparkling with a bit of mischief. “You drive a hard bargain.” His fingers tangled with hers and started to tug her toward her staircase. “But I accept.”
The pair was quiet as they retreated to sun-soaked haven of her bedroom. Warm hands slipped beneath her shirt and dragged it up to just beneath her breasts but then stalled, a quiet question in his eyes that was quickly answered with a swift nod. He pulled her shirt up and over her head and tossed it aside—his shirt quickly followed. He moved to brush a kiss against the scar over her chest as his palm settled over the scar on her stomach, like he was trying to wipe it away. She reached out to cradle his face and pulled him up, smiling against his mouth as he sighed.
“I’m here,” she said as she stretched to brush against the faded scar at his temple. “We’re just fine.” Her skilled fingers curled under the elastic band of his boxers and shucked them down his legs before he shuffled her backward. Her knees hit her bed and he pushed her back to make her bounce on the mattress. It was then that she allowed herself to truly admire him—strong legs and chest, a little soft around the middle, but still very capable. She found herself licking her licks—a little unconsciously—as she eyed his cock as it curved up toward his stomach. “Are you just going to stare?”
“Well, you are such a pretty picture.” But he climbed over her anyway, mouth slanting over hers with a passion and curl of his tongue that had her moaning and delighting in how he almost shivered under her hands as they trailed down his chest. He pulled away from her mouth to let out a groan of his own when her warm hand encircled his hard cock and squeezed. “Don’t be cruel, Sunny. I want to get to the main event before I make a mess.” Jack shuffled back, pressing wet kisses against her throat, her chest, her stomach, before he huffed out a long breath against her sleep shorts and it was her turn to shiver. He slowly pulled them down her legs and he pressed a kiss against the lace of her underwear before he pulled those down, too, tossing them over his shoulder. “So pretty for me,” he murmured, mostly to himself as his hands around her legs to pull her open, exposing her to the warm air of the room and his greedy gaze.
She curled her fingers into his thick hair as he dragged his nose along her folds, breathing her in. He had barely begun and she already felt like she was floating, held down to the bed just by his strong hands on her thighs. His tongue finally—finally parted his beautiful lips and he licked, strong and firm.
And she keened, hips lifting from the bed only to be pulled back down by his unyielding grip. And the bastard had the audacity to laugh and glanced up at her, mustache wet and glistening in the low light.
“Be good, darlin’. I wanna treat you real nice.”
“If you don’t finish-” The next words stalled in her throat as he licked another firm stripe before sucking her clit between his smiling lips. “Fuck!”
And then he truly began—a ravenous mix of tongue and plush lips moving against her and stealing any sort of coherent thought she might have had. He didn’t stop when she thrashed in his grip with her first. Didn’t stop when she tugged on his hair with the second. Didn’t stop when she wailed and panted and pleaded for a bit of a reprieve as the third started to crest and the damp spot beneath her legs continued to grow. But he let it build, continued to let her writhe under his hands until he was drinking her down like ambrosia again.
“J-Jack, please! Enough,” she begged, tugging on his disheveled hair. Her sigh was a little broken in her throat when he finally raised his head, smile glistening. He was such a pretty sight, bracketed between her thighs. A shiver shot down her spine as he pressed a kiss to her hip. “You… are something else, Jack.”
He chuckled and pressed another sticky kiss to her other hip. “I’ve been wanting to know what you tasted like for years, Sunshine.”
She slid her hands down to frame his face, letting her thumb brush against the edge of his mustache letting just a bit of slick coat her thumb before bringing it up to her mouth and sucking. His mouth dropped and a guttural groan pushed passed his shining lips as he watched. The sharp tang of herself was lost to her as he suddenly reared back onto his knees and he climbed over her, legs pushing against hers to spread her wide and hands dropping to either side of her head on the rumpled blankets. The feel of him pressing against the crux of her thighs made her moan, soft and breathy as he loomed above.
“I never thought you’d be a tease.”
“I just wanted to know what the fuss was about,” she shot back, fighting a smile, but it bloomed just as Jack’s did and he laughed before pressing a kiss to her lips and she tasted herself again.
He dropped to his elbows so he could gently cradle her face. “You got one more in ya? Just about did me in like a teenager.”
She laughed and let her hands pull through his hair again. “I think I can try, for you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I wanna know what the fuss is about,” she repeated, smiling into his lips as he bent down to kiss her again with a laugh of his own.
“Be kind to me, darlin’. I’m half-cocked already, finger on the trigger.”
“Oh?” She wiggled her hips and tried to bite back a smile when his eyes fluttered shut as she let herself glide against him. “I think you’re more than half-cocked.”
His hands suddenly grasped at her cheeks and he stole the breath from her lung with a vicious sort of ease despite the smile she still felt him pressing against her mouth. “Mean, baby.”
One hand slipped down and her entire body jolted as she felt him push the tip of his cock up and down, up and down along her folds before catching against her opening. Then, in one slow, delicious push, he slid inside. Her entire body seemed to catch fire as he bottomed out, curls at the base of him scratching against her skin. The stretch burned but she didn’t care—she didn’t care because he was there. Her Jack. And she was so deliciously full. Her hands scrambled to grab at his shoulders again and she barely managed to sigh out a heated “move” before he slipped his arms around her back and was dragging in and out with a slow, harsh thrust that had her choking on every breath while he pinned her down. Every sense was Jack—touch, taste, sound, sight, smell. All of it was him.
And that was sending her careening toward another orgasm at an embarrassingly quick pace. To finally have Jack, the man she’d been in love with for years, made it all the more terrifyingly lovely and erotic.
“You feel like heaven,” he grunted. “Tight, beautiful heaven.”
“Oh please,” she breathed, shaking hands reaching down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he continued to thrust. “Please.”
“I wanna feel ya, Sunshine. Wanna feel ya gush for me. Can you do that?” His slow drag continued and he buried his face into her sweat-slick neck, tongue sliding against her pulse.
“I want to feel you too, Jack.” Somehow she managed to find the words she needed through her buzzing mind. “Give it to me. It’s okay.”
He pulled one of his arms from around her back and slipped it between their tightly bound bodies, finding her clit like he had done it thousands of times and rubbed quick, firm circles that had her crying out and turning her head to kiss him, catching his jaw with her lips. “You first, Sunshine.”
And she erupted, one more time, shaking and shuddering in his grasp as white light flashed behind her eyes. But then she heard Jack’s beautiful, broken groan as his hips stilled, flush against hers, and warmth flooded as he gave a few small thrusts, chasing the last bits of his high. Her lips pressed against his neck, his cheek, finally finding his panting mouth. Her fingers traced his spine as they both tried to catch their breaths, bodies still reeling from the aftershocks. The afterglow was quiet and warm and perfect—sticky, syrupy, sweet. When Jack went to pull away, she tightened her grip on his back the slightest bit, uncaring of the slick she felt trickling down to puddle beneath them. “Stay a little bit. I like how you feel.”
His breath was warm against her skin, smelling of syrup and mint. “I’ll stay as long as you want.”
**
“Call me when you land.”
“It’ll be late-”
“I’ll be awake. Just call.” She tried to press a smile to her lips but she was sure it looked withered. With all the years of subterfuge and espionage she had under her belt, it still seemed like she now couldn’t lie with him. Maybe her heart just couldn’t take it anymore. It refused to go back to pulling into frowns or impassivity.
Jack brushed his lips against hers with a sigh. “I’ll call. I promise.”
She sucked in a breath as her hands pressed against his chest, feeling his warmth and steady heartbeat. “I kinda got used to having you all to myself, Whiskey.”
And then he was quiet, face pulled tight, before he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her close and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Let me see what I can do, Sunshine.”
“Jack-”
“Because I got used to being able to kiss you whenever I wanted. I got used to saying I love you whenever I wanted—”
“We just started saying that yesterday,” she grumbled, half-pleased, half-despondent.
“I got used to being able to kiss you any time I felt like it.” And then he stole another kiss. “But I’ll be back soon.”
“Promise?” She whispered.
“I promise that I’m very hard to get rid of.”
She liked the sound of that.
**
Two years later:
“Bela! No!” The corgi had stolen a piece of toast from the counter—how did he even get up there?—and tried to scamper away with the large treat.
Jack had been planning for weeks. His Sunshine had taken an assignment in Prague alongside Ginger Percival and Lancelot and was due back home in just a handful of minutes. He wanted everything perfect. The perfect flowers, the perfect music, the perfect meal (breakfast for dinner was a favorite of hers).
Perfect—until the dog stole a piece of toast.
It had been a year and a half since he had stepped back from Statesman, becoming a consultant for more complicated missions and only stepping into the field for end-of-the-world scenarios. He had shown up on his Sunny’s doorstep with a bag in hand and she had welcomed him inside without blinking.
She was…she was everything. His love. His second chance. His Sunny, filling every part of his scarred heart with warmth like sunlight sparkling on a skyscraper, sending beams of light into every dark corner and alley.
And living with her? It was so easy. His own slice of paradise on this wretched earth. They were a family—him, her, the dog. But he had definitely wanted more and he knew she did, too—they’d talked about it during more than a handful late-night phone calls and when they were wrapped up in each other under her soft blankets. And maybe they could have that. Maybe they could have a little more of this beautiful paradise.
He heard the door open and Sunny greeted Bela. “Hi, baby. Where’d you get toast?” She walked into the kitchen, carrying the corgi who was still chewing on the pilfered toast with his tiny, sharp teeth. She smiled as she looked at him and quickly pressed a slow, soft kiss to his mouth. “Hi, handsome.”
“Welcome home, Sunshine.”
She bent to set Bela on the ground and then gave him another kiss before looking around at the kitchen, seeing the spread of food and the large bouquet of her favorite flowers. “I will never get tired of coming home to you.” She plucked a piece of toast from the plate and took a bite and he watched as she smiled with crumbs on her lips.
For a moment—just a moment—the small box tucked in his back pocket could wait. He wanted to look at her a little longer.
A/N: And that’s all she wrote, folks! Please let me know what you think! Thank you all for reading. I love you. Period. The end.
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