Page 93 of The Love Interest

Say ’ello to jolly old England for me on your honeymoon, luv.

Cheers.

EPILOGUE THREE – Goliath the Cock

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday, dear Jackson.

Happy birthday tooooo yoooouuuu.

Aaaaand many mooooorrrrre.

God, I’m an amazing singer. It’s a crying shame these people can’t hear me. I get up at the crack of dawn out here every morning to cock-a-doodle-doo, even though it doesn’t wake up anyone inside that house. As far as they know, I’m just a huge, beautiful rooster. But there’s a lot more to this big, beautiful cock than meets the eye.

I may be big and hard and made of iron. I may be a proud, virile alpha male who rules the roost and vigilantly stands guard in this backyard. But I’m from California, man—I have a gentle soul, and my soullovesthese people. Well, not the pretty boy—but Fiona and Jackson.

I fucking love them, and they don’t even know it.

This is the second time I’ve sung happy birthday to Jackson. The three of them live here half the time now—Jackson and Fiona and Pretty Boy. The whole family’s out here now to celebrate with cake and nondairy ice cream. The little one is so cute. He has Fiona’s quirky lovable energy and Pretty Boy’s blue eyes. But he also has my confidence and lust for life. He’s masculine—like me. I honestly don’t see much of Pretty Boy in him, aside from the blue eyes.

But I have no complaints about Pretty Boy. If Fiona hadn’t married him four years ago, then Sissy wouldn’t have brought her a stunning and absolutely beguiling four-foot hen as a wedding present. Sure, she made her for the bride and groom. But Titania the Hen is mine. She loves to stick her chest out, and she’s got a heart-shaped tail that just won’t quit. Fuuuuuck. So hot. She’s exotic and sweet, and I don’t want to brag or anything but she thinks I’m awesome. My girl knows a fancy comb when she sees one. She’s as hot for my wattle now as she was the first time she saw it, and Ialwayskeep her satisfied.

It was about fucking time someone brought me a mate.

First, I had to stand around Sissy and Rick’s backyard, watching them crazy-love on each other for years. Then I had to watch Fiona and Pretty Boy make out on a bench by some river and bone all over that living room in there—right in front of me. That guy thinks he’s got moves—he doesn’t have moves.I’vegot moves. He thinks he’s hot shit, and sure, he makes Fiona happy. But this ismyhouse. Yeah, he’s the guy who had an extension built for Fiona’s office so she can write her best-selling romance novels in there. Yes, he threw her some big fancy costume party out here a few years ago to celebrate her publishing deal. He also had a guest house built for Sissy and Rick to stay in when they come to visit. He’s always talking about how he needs to spend all that money he’s made from the Jack Irons movies.

ButI’mthe one out here protecting them and everything on this property all night and day—while also keeping my woman fulfilled in every way.

Fiona and Pretty Boy come out here really late at night sometimes in the summer. The hanging white lights twinkle, and it’s so peaceful and quiet. They just sit together under the stars, drinking wine and talking about the books they’re writing. They joke around and tease each other. Sometimes they don’t talk at all. Occasionally, they get it on. Or they just hold hands. They’re comfortable with each other now—in a good way. Like Titania and me.

But sometimes, Pretty Boy comes out here in the evenings and sits by himself. He turns the lawn chair to face the house so he can watch Fiona and the baby inside, and he looks so damn happy. Like he can’t believe his luck. Sometimes I forget how frustrated Fiona was with him for a while there. But I saw it in those sad blue eyes of his, that very first night. I saw how he looked at Fiona. He didn’t even flinch when she carried me out of the apartment. He just took me from her and brought me over to the cab. That told me a lot, right there. You can learn a lot about a man from how he treats a lady’s cock.

I mean, it was a little weird that he was on that date with us, but whatever.

They were falling in love.

They didn’t know it then.

Or they did, but they didn’t want to admit it for some reason.

But I knew. I knew how their story would unfold.

It was just a subplot in the epic tale of how I met Titania—but it’s an important part of the story. I’m glad they got to be a part of our happily ever after; however, the cock always gets the last word.