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Chapter forty-six
Epilogue
Tilly
I’m standing on the beach in Florida. The warm water laps at my shins as I clap my hands together. Tommy’s heat is coming up, and he paddled out a few moments ago.
“Tommy!” I yell. He looks over his shoulder and shoots me the finger. I giggle and clap again.
The announcer comes over the speakers. “And next up, we have Tommy ‘Shark Bait’ Hillcrest. He’s just coming off a strong win in Australia.” The crowd starts chanting his nickname. Tommy was right; his video went viral, and everyone loves it.
The story of him getting bit by a shark is, of course, false, but still, the nickname was born. It made business at the surf shack, where Tommy now does lessons when he isn’t off winning tournaments, boom.
Everyone wants to learn from Shark Bait. Especially the ladies. Thankfully, I’m always nearby to show unknowing women pictures of our two beautiful boys. Matthew Gregory and Andrew Grayson. Or Matty and Drew, as we call them, are already a year old. It flew by just as Sam promised it would. Though I do miss them as tiny babies. People say babies are hard, but they are wrong. Toddlers. Toddlers are like demons with no conscience. Or maybe hurricanes. Or demonic hurricanes. And I love it.
Tommy starts paddling for a small wave, and I push aside thoughts of my children. When Tommy is in a tournament, I focus solely on him. That’s only made possible by Henrietta watching our kids back at the hotel room. She sold her catering company for a huge profit and is a full-time Gam Gam now. We never would have survived those first few weeks of hourly feedings, diaper explosions, and sleepless nights without her help.
Tommy catches the wave and pops to his feet. He’s ripping up the curl, cutting back, and zooming down the face. At the last second, he cuts back again, spraying water over the crest. The crowd roars to life, chanting his nickname in the same silly way from that movie our boys love.
“Tommy, babe!” Tommy flicks the seawater-soaked hair out of his face and smiles at me. “You suck!” I yell. He tilts his head back in an exaggerated laugh.
I take a few steps out of the water and sit down, feeling the hot sand under my legs. I let the sun beat down on me. It’s a beautiful day, though I do miss my bikini. Having twins left me with stretch marks that I don't exactly love. Covering them up is a bit of a bummer, but better than stares I suppose. Tommy claims those are my battle scars. Delivery was rough. Maybe more so for my poor boyfriend. I wasn't exactly friendly while giving birth.
But the one-piece is still sexy, and I know it. Men still look my way, and I secretly love when Tommy shoos them off.
Though we still haven’t married, neither of us has any intention of ever being apart again. Not in the least. Life isn’t perfect, but it’s damn close.
After another two runs, Tommy races out of the water, straight to my side. “Hey, babe, you look comfy,” he says, offering me a wet kiss.
“Yes, but I think I’m getting a little burned. Can you?” I hold the sunscreen out, and Tommy growls.
“You certainly look hot,” he says. I love the way his voice can get so low and husky.
“Come on, Tommy, I’m serious,” I say. Tommy nuzzles my neck, dripping seawater all over me. “Tommy!” I yelp when he starts sucking on my shoulder. But he doesn’t stop; he lowers the strap of my swimsuit and starts peppering me with kisses.
“Let’s go rinse off,” he says, his tone still breathy.
“You have the awards ceremony,” I say with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah. First place, big deal. Take me back to the hotel before Ma figures out it’s over.”
“Babe, she needs a break too.”
He scoffs. “It’s their naptime. She’s probably doing a crossword puzzle.” He’s already dragging me away from the water. I laugh and grab my bag.
By the time we get to the elevator of the beachside hotel we’re staying at, I’m wrapped around him, kissing him like a lovesick teenager.
A group of giggling girls gets on the elevator at the last minute, and I pry myself away. The girls are whispering and looking at Tommy. He flashes them his megawatt smile, and I roll my eyes.
“Babe, you looked positively sexy out there,” I say loudly.
“Oh yeah?” He smiles at me, and I grab his still damp rash guard to pull him over to me.
“Yeah, it was hot. Like melt my panties hot,” I say.
Tommy laughs. “Tilly! You’re gonna embarrass me.”
I rise onto my tiptoes. “I don’t care.” He stares at my mouth.
