His Secret Obsession by Nichole Rose

Epilogue

Gwen

 

Five Years Later

 

"Daddy, what's da blues?" Genesis asks Cyrus as I linger outside the kitchen door, watching them together. She's on his lap at the table, their heads bent over the model airplane parts spread out all around them. Her twin brother, Gideon, is in the floor beside the table, playing on his tablet.

"The blues mean you're sad, lovebug," Cyrus murmurs, helping guide our daughter's hands as she snaps a piece of the airplane propeller into place. I smile at the sight. He's so patient with her. Genesis is a daddy's girl through and through. Wherever Cyrus is at is where our four-year-old daughter wants to be.

He's more than happy to let her follow him around. He's wrapped so tightly around her little finger it's ridiculous. No one messes with his baby girl. Her twin brother is just as protective. Both of our kids have my tawny skin and curly hair, but Gideon is a little replica of Cyrus. He has no chill when it comes to me and his sister. He's five whole minutes older than her, but he takes the older brother role as seriously as Cyrus always has.

"Oh," Genesis says.

I tell Cyrus all the time that he's going to have to stop being such a grouch over us because Gideon is picking up his bad habits. Cyrus ignores me, of course. He's perfectly content knowing our son won't allow anyone to give me or his sister any shit. Riley and Cami keep telling me I might as well get used to it because there's no talking any sense into him just like there isn't any talking any sense into Cash and Bentley. They are the way they are, and nothing is ever going to change them.

Truthfully, I wouldn't have Cyrus or our babies any other way. I love them so damn much. But I do worry that Gideon is going to get himself in trouble, especially with him and his sister starting kindergarten in the fall. If someone even looks at his sister wrong, he's probably going to raise hell. Which will rile her up.

On her own, Genesis is the sweetest little angel. I don't know where she gets it because she definitely didn't get it from me. But when something sets her brother off, she turns into a fearless little warrior who isn't afraid of anyone or anything. They're both probably going to be expelled before the end of the year, but we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it.

I'm as excited as I am sad that they're going to be in kindergarten. When I was pregnant with them, we spent most of the time on the road, living out of a tour bus. As strange as it sounds, spending all that time cramped up together is one of my favorite memories. Cyrus and I connected in ways we never had before, becoming so much more than I ever dreamed. He isn't just a piece of my soul. He's the whole damn thing.

He went to work as a civilian contractor for AEDC not long after we finished that first tour. I've made more than enough money to sustain us for the rest of our lives, but Cyrus wouldn't dream of letting me take care of our family. He says providing for us is his job, and he takes that responsibility seriously. He never complains, even when he's up with me half the night and then has to be at work first thing in the morning. Even when he has to take weeks off at a time because I'm touring or have commitments elsewhere. He's made no secret of the fact that me and the kids are his first priority, and his boss respects that. Darren finds ways to make it work. I think to keep Cyrus there, Darren would perform miracles if he had to do it. He knows the facility and the equipment better than anyone. Darren values him so much.

God knows, I do too. There isn't a single part of me that doubts Cyrus or his love for me and our kids. He's moved mountains for me and our babies, over and over again, determined to make every single one of my dreams come true. I told him five years ago that simply having him there with me was enough for me, but he never listens. He says that he spent six years having to love me from afar, so he's going to spoil me as much as he wants to spoil me, and I'll just have to live with it.

Had anyone told me six years ago that this is what our life would look like today, I wouldn't have believed it. Hearing him say he loved me for the first time was the most incredible moment of my life up until that point. He finds ways to make every day even more incredible than that. I'm not just living my dreams. I'm living a fairytale.

And I know he's as blissfully happy as I am. He never stops smiling, and he looks so at peace. I try to find ways every day to make sure he knows just how much I love him. I never again want him to think he isn't good enough for me or that he isn't exactly what I want and need. He is everything to me.

What he did in Iraq still haunts him sometimes, butt I'm there to remind him that it wasn't his fault. He doesn't have nightmares often, but when they do come, he doesn't have to wake up to pictures of me anymore. He wakes up to me, every day.

We've been together every step of the way and I wouldn't change a single moment of it. Finding out I was pregnant two months after signing Riley as my manager changed so much for us. Trying to juggle a burgeoning music career while pregnant with twins and throwing up every day was no easy feat. But Cyrus was my rock. He took care of me so I could go out there and chase my dreams.

I've fallen in love with him a million different times and for a million different reasons over the last five years. He thinks that making it in Nashville was my dream, and he gave me that. But making a name for myself wasn't my dream, or it wasn't all of my dream. Doing it at his side…that was always the dream. From the day I met him, that's what I wanted. To look out at the crowd and see him smiling back at me. To experience every milestone at his side.

And I have. God, I've experienced so much at his side. Stadium tours and music videos and award shows. Three albums. Two little miracles that fill my heart with joy every day. He doesn't know it yet, but we have another one on the way. I took a test this morning. I'm just waiting to get him alone to tell him. If it goes anything like last time, he'll be all over me as soon as I say the words. I don't mind. All over me is exactly where he belongs.

I'm excited about having another baby. I'm excited about everything. With the kids starting school this fall, we decided to postpone another tour. We've done enough traveling over the last five years. I want to be at home with my kids, picking them up from school, helping them do their homework, having barbeques in the backyard with Jessa and Jax and our friends. That's my dream now.

I'm not giving up music, of course not. We worked too hard to get here to give it up now. But I'm scaling back and enjoying the life we spent the last five years building. If my grandma could see me now, I know she'd be proud. I know she'd support that decision.

She always told me that her greatest memories weren't those she made on stage, but those she made at home with my dad and my grandpa. I never understood that until the day Cyrus told me he loved me. That's the day I realized that, even if I never made it, my life would still be a thing of beauty because he was in it.

If I lost the ability to make music tomorrow, I'd miss it, but I wouldn't be sad it was gone. I'd smile because it happened. Because the bossiest, most confusing, and infuriating man I ever met was at my side for every moment. He didn't ask me to give it up and chase him like my mom always has for the men in her life. He chased me and my dreams. Around the world. Through hell and back. Even when I thought he'd changed his mind about me, he was chasing me. I just didn't know it at the time.

I know it now. And I will never, ever forget just how much he went through to get us here today. There will never come a day when I'm not a little bit in awe of him and how hard he fought to find his way back to me. There will never come a day when I don't love him a little bit harder because of how hard he fought.

"What's wrong, Ginny?" he asks our daughter, who has her little face scrunched up.

"I don't want mommy to be sad," she whispers.

"What makes you think mommy is sad?" he asks, lifting her from his lap to deposit her on the table. He tucks her hair behind her ears and taps her on the nose, trying to get her to smile.

"You said da blues mean you're sad. But Unka Jax said mommy sings da blues better than anybody," she says. "I don't want her to be more sadder than eberyone, daddy."

Gideon stops playing with his tablet and looks up at them, his expression growing as somber and serious as his sister's. He doesn't interrupt her and Cyrus though. He just listens intently. He's quiet like Cyrus. He says what he has to say and that's that.

"Oh," Cyrus says. "Well, it's more complicated that than, lovebug. Having the blues can mean you're sad, but people who sing the blues are really special. They're people with a lot of soul and big, powerful voices. Your mommy is one of those special people. She doesn't sing them because she's sad. She sings them to honor the people who came before her who fought so hard to make it possible for her to sing them for the whole world."

"Like my grandma?" Genesis asks.

"Yeah, baby. Like your grandma."

Gideon exhales a little breath and goes back to his tablet, satisfied with Cyrus's explanation. Genesis isn't so easily convinced.

"Are you sure mommy isn't sad, daddy?" she asks, narrowing her eyes on him.

"I'm sure," he says, smiling at her. "I made mommy sad once, and it broke my heart. Do I look like my heart is broken now, baby girl?"

She looks him over, her little finger tapping against her bottom lip. "I guess not," she says after a minute, making me smile. Her daddy is her hero, but she does not take it easy on him. He tells me all the time that she got my attitude. I don't know why he's complaining though. He loves my attitude.

"That's because mommy is happy," Cyrus says, as serious as I've ever seen him. "You want to know a secret that not even mommy knows?"

"What?" she whispers.

Cyrus leans toward her, putting his face up close to her ear. "My heart only smiles when hers does, so I find ways to make sure that hers smiles every single day."

Oh my…

"You and your brother help."

"We do?" Her brown eyes grow big.

Gideon smiles in the floor beside them, mumbling, "cool," under his breath.

"Yeah, you do." Cyrus scoops Genesis off the table, planting a big kiss on her cheek. "Mommy could never be sad when she has you and me and your brother, baby girl. We're her happy place. Now, why don't you watch your brother play his game for a minute while I go find mommy?"

"Okay," Genesis says, letting him set her on her feet. She skips the few feet to where Gideon is at and then drops down beside him. He slides his tablet over so she can see it too.

I slip back into the living room to wait for Cyrus, swiping at my eyes to hide my tears.

His chair scrapes against the kitchen floor a moment later and then I hear his heavy footsteps. He doesn't even make it over the threshold before his blue eyes are on me. There is no hiding the tears from him. He notices them immediately, his expression softening.

"You were listening."

"Yes, and you made me cry, you big jerk!" I say, sniffling.

"Come here," he says, striding toward me. Once he's right next to me, he backs me up against the wall before cupping my face in his palms. His gaze flits over me as he dries my tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It's true, you know. My heart only smiles when yours does, angel. It only beats when yours does."

"Cyrus!" I sob, pressing my face into his shoulder to keep the kids from hearing me. Genesis will never believe I'm not sad if she catches me crying.

"It beats because yours does, Gwen. I was put on this earth just for you," he murmurs, planting little kisses all over the side of my face and my ear. "To be your consort. Your home." His lips run across my temple. "You and our kids are the reason I exist."

"T-then you s-should know something," I say.

"What?"

"You're g-going to have another reason soon."

It takes him a moment to catch on, and then he freezes. He even stops breathing for a minute before he sucks in a sharp breath and nudges my face up. His eyes lock on mine, full to the brim with hope. "Gwen. Angel. Are you saying…?"

"That you're going to be a daddy again?" I finish when he doesn't.

He nods.

"Yes," I whisper, and then start crying again. "Yes, Cyrus. We're having another baby."

"Princess," he breathes. His body shudders and then his lips are on mine. He kisses me softly and then groans and deepens it, holding me still to him. His hands shake where he cups my face, but he kisses me with so much heat, I know he's not nervous or afraid to have another one. No, he's waited too long to be anything less than ecstatic.

As soon as he breaks the kiss, he sinks to his knees in front of me, tugging my shirt up to expose my belly. He places his hand over it, his palm against my skin. His expression is so full of joy, of bliss, that a sob catches in my throat.

He runs his hand over my belly and then tugs me closer. His lips touch my skin, resting there. I lay my hand on the back of his head, holding him to me as he greets our baby for the first time.

"Hi, little one," he whispers, his voice gritty with emotion. "I'm your daddy, and I'm so happy to meet you."

I give up trying to stifle my cries and sob openly.

 

 

As soon as the kids are down for the night, he's on me. I don't even make it two steps out of Gideon's room before Cyrus scoops me up into his arms and carries me down the hall to the bedroom. He's breathing hard, his eyes on fire with need.

I squirm in his arms as my body temperature rises in response. He's been so sweet to me all evening. Halfway through dinner, he stood up abruptly and picked me up from my chair before sitting back down in his seat with me in his lap. The kids didn't even bat a lash. They're used to him holding me. Not a day goes by that I don't spend a significant portion of it in his arms, right where I belong.

We ate with our hands linked over my belly. Afterward, I attempted to do the dishes. I didn't get very far before he showed up, wrapping his arms around me from behind and kissing all over my neck. He loved on me until my knees threatened to buckle, and then set me on the counter beside him while he finished the dishes.

I don't have to ask to know he's happy. He hasn't stopped staring at me all night. The way he feels is right there in his eyes, plain as day. He can't wait to be a daddy again, and I can't wait either. He is such an amazing husband and father. Already, I see the devotion to this baby growing in his eyes. By the time he or she arrives, my fierce, growly man will be wrapped completely around his or her finger. Just like he is with Genesis and Gideon.

"I can't wait," he growls, kicking the door to our room closed and then backing me up against it. He's a blur of hands and need as he strips me bare, kissing me over and over as each stitch of clothing disappears from my body at record speed. He yanks his shirt off over his head, and then yanks his sweats down enough to release his cock.

I moan as soon as I see it, helpless to do anything else. His body has brought me so much pleasure over the years. Every part of me lives and breathes for him and the things he does to me. There are nights when neither of us sleep because we can't stop making love long enough to do it. Even after five years, I haven't had my fill of him. I want him endlessly, and I know he feels the same way about me.

Sometimes, he's so gentle, it brings tears to my eyes. Other times, he's rough and dirty and exactly as bossy as he warned once warned me he would be. He's tied me up, spanked me, and taken me every which way over the years. There isn't a spot on my body that hasn't had him all over it. I love when he worships me with his body…but I love it even more when he loses control and fucks me until I'm pleading for mercy.

That's the Cyrus I fell in love with all those years ago. The bossy bastard who says whatever he wants. The one who looks at me like he wants to eat me alive. I need that side of him, just as badly as he needs me to defy him and fight him and give him hell. I'm his soul, his brat, his obsession. And he's mine.

We still fight sometimes, but it doesn't end in tears and frustration anymore. Oh no. It ends with him fucking the fight right out of me. I love it so much and I know he does too. I think he winds me up sometimes just so he can calm me back down again in the bedroom. There's something so damn peaceful about it. When he's inside me, taking me hard enough to knock me breathless, or spanking me until I'm begging him to get inside me…I find a sort of inner stillness I've never had.

I know it's the same for him. We live and breathe for those moments.

"Cyrus, Jesus, get in me," I demand, wriggling impatiently. "I need you."

"Yeah?" He lifts me up a little bit higher, notching his dick at my entrance. And then he yanks me down on him all at once, his hands digging into my hips.

"Cyrus!"

"This is what you wanted, princess," he says. "Take it."

I do. God, I do. He moves like a storm, fucking me so hard the door rattles and shakes. So fast I feel like I'm flying as he lifts me up and down his cock. I claw his back and babble his name, as wild with need as he is, as desperate as he is. Knowing that I'm pregnant with his baby again, that I'm carrying a life inside me that we created…does something to me.

He tells me all the time that I'm a queen. Right now, I feel like it.

Within minutes, I'm crying out his name and coming all over him.

"Fuck!" he roars when I sink my teeth into his shoulder, trying to keep the kids from hearing me screaming his name like my life depends on it. I think it might. He wraps his hand in my hair and yanks my head back, covering my mouth with his. He pumps into me twice and then I feel him coming too. His seed drips down my thighs, leaving us both a sticky, sweaty mess.

Somehow, he manages to get us to the bed before his legs collapse. He lands on his back with me straddling him. We're both breathing hard and trembling, but I know it's not over. He's still hard inside me, still looking at me with those blue eyes on fire.

"You're pregnant again," he says, brushing my hair out of my face to stare at me. "God, Gwen. Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to tell me that again?"

"Four years, six months, and sixteen days," I say…which was how long ago the twins were born. He's wanted another baby since the first time he held them in his arms. But we decided to wait to have more so I didn't have to try to tour while pregnant again.

"Are you happy?" he asks me.

"So happy," I whisper, leaning up to kiss him. "I'm so damn happy, Cyrus. Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for, angel? I should be the one thanking you."

"For loving me. For believing in me. For making all my dreams come true."

"Gwen," he growls, his hands tightening on me as the inferno in his eyes blazes hotter.

I know he's warning me to behave, but I don't. The desire to wreck him rises like a tempest inside. I don't hesitate to give in to it. It's what he needs, even if he won't admit it right now. He thinks he needs to be soft and sweet. He should know better though. I'm not a delicate little flower. I'm his, equal to him in every way. "Thank you for putting another baby in me," I whisper, pressing my lips to his ear. "I wanted it so bad."

His wild growl echoes off the rafters. His hands notch around my waist and he begins to move inside me again. I rise up on my knees above him, triumphant, complete, and his. Always his.

By the time he finally lets me rest, every muscle in my body hurts and his chest and back are a mess of scratch marks. They're perfect matches for the love bites littering my skin like a roadmap to heaven. I fall asleep with his arms around me, his hand on my belly, and his heart singing the same song it's sang since the day I met him.

My name.

And just like always, mine sings his right back to him.