“S-sure,” he half-growled, half-yelped when she softly bit his earlobe. “Okay, that does it,” he said, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him until she was straddling his waist. He released his grip and immediately captured both her breasts in his hands, making her moan, first in surprise and then pleasure as she leaned into him.
She wiggled provocatively, lifted up on her knees, and with Marauding Megan determination, settled down over his shaft with another sweet sound of pleasure.
“You seem to have started without me,” he barely got out when she began moving on him.
She groaned, increasing her tempo. “You’re catching up quickly, though.” She dropped her head back to arch her breasts into his hands, her own hands bracing herself on his chest as her fingers flexed into his muscles.
He felt her muscles tightening, her body pulling in on itself, and he let go of her breasts to take hold of her hips. “Slow down, sweetheart,” he desperately petitioned. “Make it last.”
“Next time,” she said even more desperately, grabbing one of his hands and pushing it down between them. “Come with me, Jack. Now!”
With a growl of resignation and no small amount of anticipation, he gently began to intimately caress her. She always promised to go slow next time, and when next time came, she was even more demanding.
Maybe he’d get her calmed down in thirty or forty years.
Every coherent thought in his head suddenly vanished when Jack felt her heading into their magical place, dragging him with her on a cresting wave of blinding heat. His shout of release blended with hers, and together they traveled through the cosmos, flying hand in hand, their three hearts beating as one.
Megan collapsed on top of him with a groan, snuggling her head under his chin with a sigh. “Okay,” she muttered against his neck. “You deserve to marry me.”
He pulled the blankets up over them. “That’s it?” he said, holding her in place to catch every last lingering contraction. “That’s your proposal?”
“I am not asking you to marry me, Jack. I’m telling you we’re getting married in March, on the spring equinox. My family’s got a thing for the solstices and equinoxes. You got a problem with that, Coyote?”
“No, ma’am.”
She dropped her head down to his neck with another yawn. “Good. Because William and Kenzie and Father Daar will want to attend, so we need to have it before they leave.” Jack felt her smile against him. “I’m going to be the first one in my family to have a dragon as a groomsman.”
Jack snuggled her against him with a resigned sigh. He’d bet his boots he was going to be the first one in his family, too.
Epilogue
A t precisely 7:08 p.m. on March 20, the exact time of the vernal equinox and during one of the worst spring blizzards in recent history, Jack finally kissed his very pregnant bride in front of an eighteen-hundred-year-old priest, two drùidhs, six time-traveling highland warriors, and a whole slew of MacKeages and MacBains—none of whom thought it at all strange to have a dragon in the wedding party.
Well, a few of the spouses did—especially Walter Sprague, Elizabeth’s husband. The poor high school principal had nearly fainted when William had walked into Gù Brath’s huge living room with Elizabeth on his arm, then taken his place beside Kenzie and Matt, the other two groomsmen. Jack had considered asking Simon to be his best man, but seeing how there was to be a mythological creature in attendance, he had asked Robbie MacBain instead.
“Come on,” Megan said, dragging Jack down the makeshift aisle behind the procession of wedding attendants as they headed toward the dining room. “We’ve got to keep William away from the buffet table. He’s going to make himself sick again.”
“If he can’t learn that sweets will kill him, how does Kenzie expect William to survive long enough to learn how to treat defenseless women?” Jack asked, grinning like the happy man he was.
“Oh God. He’s headed for the cake. Quick,” Megan said, shoving Jack toward the huge wedding cake in the far corner of the room. “You go distract him while I fix him a plate of vegetables.”
William will love that, Jack thought with a snicker. The dragon certainly looked a lot better than he had a month ago, though. He’d lost a good deal of weight and he smelled pleasantly earthy instead of rank. His large, batlike wings were folded neatly against his body, and his scales were dry and appeared almost polished, glittering iridescent when the light hit them just right. Someone—Camry, Jack suspected—had even gotten William to wear a red silk bow tie.
Camry hadn’t flown to France after all, but had locked herself in her mother’s lab, where she had proceeded to wear out a fax machine and email server as she hotly debated with the scientist in France who claimed to have solved the ion propulsion thing. Whenever she surfaced, she was usually muttering something about some arrogant French idiot who couldn’t have calculated his way out of a wet paper bag if the equation had been written on his hand in indelible ink.
When she wasn’t faxing and emailing and cursing her French counterpart, Camry was teaching Kenzie and William to read, as well as the rules of their modern new world. William was actually more man than beast, and he could even talk, though he usually refused to, except to Kenzie and Camry.
Camry now stepped in front of William and the poor beast stopped dead in his tracks, nearly tripping on his tail when he came nose to snout with his tutor—whom Jack suspected was more tyrant than teacher.
Then Megan’s mother walked into the dining room on her husband’s arm. Jack had managed to avoid Grace for two weeks after the skivies incident, before she had finally cornered him in his office, obviously having conspired with Ethel, who had transformed from a proficient clerk to a meddling mother hen to both Jack and Simon. Jack had been forced to spend a rather uncomfortable hour with Grace; he suspected she knew exactly how uncomfortable he was as she’d chatted with him about the weather, and babies, and Native American folklore.
Speaking of babies, Megan was waddling worse than William now. Little Walker was growing large, and Megan complained to anyone who would listen that the boy always did calisthenics when she was ready for bed. Jack’s hand cupping her belly was the only thing that settled Walker down, so he continued to let her believe he had the magic touch.
“Could I please have everyone’s attention!” Megan suddenly called from beside the cake table. “Thank you all for coming out in this blizzard for our wedding.” She held out her hand to Jack, her simple gold wedding band glittering in the chandelier light. “I have a few announcements I wish to make.”
Having absolutely no idea what his bride was about to announce, Jack stepped up beside her nervously.
“First, because I can’t wait another two months for you to find out, Jack and I are having a baby boy,” she said, patting her belly. “And his name will be Walker MacKeage Stone.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. As announcements went, that hadn’t been so bad. They’d had a few arguments over Walker’s full name, and Jack had been adamant Coyote wouldn’t be one of them. He had promised he’d consider it for their next son, but what he hadn’t told her was they’d be having only girls from here on out.
“And second, some of you may not know it yet, but this is Father Daar’s last night with us. He, Kenzie, and William,” she said, nodding toward the dragon in the corner of the room, “are leaving tomorrow for the coast. They don’t know where they’re going to end up exactly, but likely someplace Down East.”
There were a few murmurs, and Father Daar harrumphed and got all red in the face when several people walked over and hugged him.
“Stop acting like this is my damn funeral,” he protested, waving his cane in the air to shoo them away. “I am not too old to begin a new adventure. And somebody has to go with those pagan fools, to keep them out of trouble,” he added, pointing his cane at Kenzie and William.