Page 101 of The Havenport Collection

Bonus Epilogue

Declan

Two Years Later

“ T his way,” Astrid said excitedly, pointing farther up the mountain we were climbing. I was exhausted. We had been hiking since five a.m. in Thingvellir National Park. We had set out at dawn with heavy backpacks to try and reach several waterfalls and cross the tectonic plates by midday.

I would do anything for my wife. She was one of a kind.

But I was learning quickly that all those years of travel planning may have created a bit of a monster.

Since touching down in Iceland for our honeymoon four days ago we have been on the move hiking, kayaking, and sightseeing.

We have climbed glaciers, bathed in hot springs, and watched sunrises over the mountains.

It had been magical but not quite as sexy as I imagined.

I was realizing more and more why most couples went to all-inclusive beach resorts where they could be half naked and drunk all the time. But Astrid and I were not most couples.

Our wedding was small and intimate. The Captain officiated as we said our vows on his sailboat with a beautiful sunset in the background.

It was everything we wanted. At my urging, Astrid had begun to repair her relationship with her mother, and I was pleased that both her parents joined us for the big day.

After the ceremony, we threw a party in our yard, overlooking the bluff.

Cece and Nora helped get everything ready, setting up lights, chairs, and a makeshift dance floor.

We laughed, ate, drank, and danced all night.

As I held her tight while we danced to “You Are the Best Thing” by Ray LaMontagne, I knew that it was the happiest moment of my life.

Although our wedding was low key, we wanted an amazing honeymoon.

And Astrid had planned the hell out of it, finding us the most unique Airbnbs and wacky tourist attractions.

Traveling with her was just as fun as living with her.

She was still quiet and introspective but possessed a truly incredible appetite for life.

She was up every morning to see the sunrise and sampled some really strange foods that even I couldn’t bring myself to try.

She even indulged my fascination with fishing boats and my desire to chat with every grizzled ship’s captain I could meet in the pubs.

I had proposed less than a year after Astrid moved in.

I wanted to propose immediately, but she kept insisting that we had to take things slow, whatever that meant.

All I knew is that I wanted her forever, and I was willing to put up with “taking it slow” if it got me there eventually.

Every day I fell a little bit more in love with her passionate heart and kind soul.

Not that I was necessarily comfortable saying that out loud, but I always felt orgasms spoke louder than words.

We had made a nice home for ourselves with Ginger.

Astrid was super busy most days, always running around for work or going to Krav Maga or to the diner with her friends.

But at night she was mine. And we spent those nights cooking, talking, and making love.

Astrid was my best friend, my partner, and one hell of a badass.

It was a privilege to watch her blossom over the past couple of years.

Astrid blazed up the trail, totally engrossed in the scenery. Her blonde ponytail swung methodically as her long legs ate up the trail. It was unbelievably beautiful here, but I was a bit distracted by watching her ass in those leggings.

She turned and smiled at me, holding her trail map. “This is incredible! We’re almost there.”

I smiled at her and kept my eye on the trail. I wasn’t sure where we were headed. After we hit the major tourist spots, Astrid told me she had a surprise for me. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I knew it would probably involve more hiking.

When Astrid said she wanted to go to Iceland for our honeymoon, I was a bit disappointed that we wouldn’t be heading to a destination where bikinis were necessary.

But now, here in this wild wilderness with my wild wife, I realized I was wrong.

There was a lot to appreciate about her and the surroundings.

Iceland was rare, beautiful, and a bit intimidating, much like my wife.

After another thirty minutes we finally crested the hill we had been climbing and came around a bend where we encountered a large sign written in Icelandic. Astrid gestured for us to follow the well-trod path.

Through the trees we came upon a clearing with a deep blue pool. It was deserted.

Astrid put down her backpack and winked at me.

“What is this place?” I asked, watching as Astrid untied her hiking boots.

“Our wilderness guide told me about it yesterday. It is a secret hot spring.”

“But we already went to the secret springs.”

“Yes. That one is a major tourist destination and not really secret. This one is the real deal. It’s so hard to reach that very few people ever come up here.” She got both boots off and peeled down her hiking pants to reveal very tiny red bikini bottoms.

She looked up at me. “Take your gear off, Declan.”

I shook my head. Was I really seeing this?

My wife stripping down in the middle of the woods?

I was both confused and turned on. By the time she dropped her T-shirt on the ground, I realized that I didn’t give a shit what was going on.

I reached for her, slipping my arm around her waist and kissing her deeply.

“Declan, get your clothes off already,” she said breathlessly.

“I didn’t pack a bathing suit,” I said, kissing her neck and squeezing that incredible ass.

“You don’t need one. There is no one here.”

She stepped back and untied the strings of her top, letting it fall to the ground. She then walked over and gingerly stepped into the water.

I almost tripped over myself getting my clothes off before joining her in the hot spring. It was small, much smaller than the massive ones we had visited as tourists. But it was perfectly shielded by trees and mountains. It was intimate, beautiful, and kind of mind-boggling, just like my wife.

Astrid swam over to where I stood, and I watched as droplets of water ran down her neck and breasts. I was hard as stone and dizzy with lust. “Do you like your surprise?” she asked coyly.

“Oh, killer, I love it.”