Chapter 137: Loved beyond Goodbye

Tyler's POV

Five Months Later

By the time we reached Italy, I was convinced my husband had secretly been training for this trip his entire life.

We have visited eight different countries in 5 months of getting married. All for what? Just to tick every box of Quin's Dream countries to have sex. I was convinced I married a psycho.

Most people spent years planning something like that. Quin had somehow managed to turn it into a five-month honeymoon without once looking stressed. I, meanwhile, had lost count of how many airports we’d walked through.

“You’re staring at me.”

Quin was sitting across from me on the balcony of our hotel overlooking the Amalfi Coast. The morning sun painted everything gold. The ocean stretched endlessly below us, bright and endless.

“I’m trying to figure out how you’re still functioning.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We landed yesterday.”

“Exactly.”

“You slept eleven hours.”

“ you know damn well I earned those eleven hours.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You also slept on the flight.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“It absolutely counts.”

“No.”

He laughed softly. Five months later and that sound still did ridiculous things to me.

Marriage hadn’t changed him. I don't know why people say marriage changed them, maybe it was their experience, but Quin was still Quin. Still controlled, annoyingly competent and capable of making me feel like the only person in the room with one look.

My gaze drifted to his left hand. The wedding ring caught the sunlight. I smiled. Five months of waking up beside him, hearing him call me husband in a very weird Quinly way, because it's his way. And five months of building a life that felt increasingly real every single day.

Quin's phone buzzed. His expression shifted. Not negatively. Just thoughtfully. I recognized that look.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked up. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

He sighed. “It's today.”

Oh right.

The smile faded slightly. The reason we’d ended the trip here. And the reason Italy had been saved for last.

It was because of Billie.

I looked toward the ocean. Neither of us spoke for several seconds. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It rarely was between us anymore.

Eventually Quin folded his phone and slid it into his pocket. “We don’t have to go.”

His voice was calm. I knew what that meant. He wanted to go. But he was giving me an out.

“We’re going.”

He studied me. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “We came all this way.”

The truth was I wanted to go. Because I loved Billie too. Not the way Quin did though, she was his sister. I loved her enough to miss her, and to wish she’d been standing at our wedding making inappropriate comments and embarrassing Quin in front of everyone and enough to feel her absence.

Quin nodded once. “Okay.”

We finished breakfast quietly. Then we went back inside the suite.

The moment the balcony doors closed behind us, something shifted.

Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe it was the way the morning light still clung to Quin’s skin. Maybe it was just the simple fact that we had a few hours before we needed to leave, and the weight of the day ahead made both of us want to hold onto something warm first.

Quin sat on the edge of the bed to check something on his phone. I watched him for a second—the line of his shoulders and the way his hair fell slightly forward. Then I walked over, dropped to my knees between his legs, and rested my hands on his thighs.

He looked down at me, eyebrows lifting slightly. “what are you doing?”

“We have time,” I said quietly.

He immediately understood why I was there. He set the phone aside without looking at it again.

I leaned in and pressed my mouth against the front of his pants, feeling the heat of him through the fabric. Quin’s breath hitched. One of his hands found my hair, I kissed along the hard line of his dick slowly, teasing, until I felt him start to thicken under my mouth. Only then did I undo his pants and free him.

He was already half-hard. I didn't waste any time. I just leaned down and took him into my mouth.

He tasted so good, the weight and size of his dick filling my mouth up grounded me immediately. I took my time, working him deeper with each slow pass, letting myself enjoy the quiet sounds he made. Quin’s hand tightened in my hair when I relaxed my throat and sank down taking him deeper and deeper. A rough, low sound left him. I stayed there for a moment, breathing through my nose, then pulled back and did it again.

“God—Tyler—”

I looked up at him while I worked. His eyes were darker now, focused entirely on me. The expression on his face made something warm and possessive twist in my chest. This was my husband. The man I’d crossed eight countries with just because he wanted to make love to me in all of them. Watching him come apart because of me still felt like a privilege.

I kept the pace steady, one hand wrapped around his balls and massaging it while I took him deeper down my throat and the other was resting on his thigh. Quin’s breathing grew uneven. His hips twitched once, then again, like he was holding himself back from thrusting. I hummed around him and felt the way the vibration made his fingers tighten in my hair.

“fuck. I’m close,” he warned, voice rough.

I didn’t pull away. I took him deeper, slower, and stayed there until his whole body tensed. A broken sound left him as he came, hips jerking slightly as his hand in my hair tightened. I stayed with him through it, swallowing every drop of his seed, until the tension finally drained out of him.

When I finally pulled off, Quin was looking down at me with that soft, wrecked expression he only ever wore for me. He reached down, cupped my face, and pulled me up into a slow kiss. I could taste him on my own tongue and he didn’t seem to care.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured against my mouth.

“I wanted to.”

He kissed me again, deeper this time, then rested his forehead against mine. For a moment neither of us spoke.

Eventually he exhaled. “Thank you.”

I smiled. “Anytime.”

The drive took about twenty minutes away from the hotel. When we got there we headed straight to the overlook where we all stood before she collapsed. The exact same stone pavement she had been on, smiling while in pain.

We stood there for a few minutes looking at the ocean without speaking. Then he finally spoke.

“She hated mornings.”

I blinked. “What?”

A small smile appeared. “Billie.” His eyes remained on the water. “She hated waking up early.”

I laughed softly. “Really?”

“Passionately. If we had to be somewhere before nine she spent the entire journey complaining.”

I could picture it immediately. “That sounds accurate.”

“It was.” The wind moved through his hair. His expression softened. “She would’ve loved this view though. She didn't enjoy it much the last time.”

I looked out across the ocean. “Yeah.”

“She would’ve taken about six hundred photos.”

“Obviosly. She's Billie.”

A quiet laugh escaped him. Then the smile faded a little.

“I miss her.”

I reached for his hand. He let me take it.

“I know. I miss her too.”

His fingers tightened around mine. “I still try to call her sometimes and wished she'd call and say it was a prank.”

I didn’t say anything. Because I understood. Grief wasn’t logical and it didn’t follow rules. Sometimes it arrived unexpectedly and sometimes it sat quietly for months.

Quin exhaled slowly. “I wish she’d met our kids or even Cooper.”

My throat tightened. Kids. We’d been talking about them more lately.

“I know.”

“She would’ve been ridiculously sweet to them..”

I smiled. “and spoil them rotten.”

“She would’ve bought them loud toys. She would’ve ignored every parenting decision we made.”

“One hundred percent.”

That got a laugh out of him.

The wind picked up again. For a while we stood there. Looking out at the water. Thinking about someone we loved. Someone who should have had more time. Someone whose absence still mattered.

Eventually Quin reached into his jacket pocket. I looked over. He pulled out a folded photograph. Old. Slightly worn. Billie. She was laughing. Mid-motion. Like whoever took it had caught her saying something outrageous. Which honestly seemed likely.

I stared at it. Then at him. “You brought a picture.”

His thumb brushed the edge. “Yeah.” A pause. “I wanted her here again.”

A knot in my chest tightened causing a pain I couldn't describe.

Quin looked at the photograph. Then out at the ocean. “You wouldn't believe it if I told you dad apologised to Tyler.”

I smiled despite myself. He continued talking like she was standing beside us. Like she’d merely stepped away for a moment. He told her about the wedding, about Cooper and Atlas, Jake finally admitting he was in love with Dylan and about Cassie and Mara. He told her about everything she’d missed.

And somehow it felt right. I listened. The wind carried his words toward the ocean. Toward nowhere and everywhere.

When he finally finished speaking, the silence returned. But it felt different now. Lighter somehow.

Quin folded the photograph carefully. Then tucked it away. “I think she’d like this.”

“The trip?”

He shook his head. “Us now.”

My heart squeezed. I looked at him. At the man who’d become my best friend, my home and my husband.

“I think so too.”

His gaze met mine. For a second neither of us spoke. Then he stepped closer. Rested his forehead against mine. The ocean stretched endlessly behind him as the wind moved around us.

She'll forever be one of the best parts of our lives.

Quin kissed me softly and gently savouring every taste of my mouth. When we pulled apart, his eyes were brighter.

“Ready to go?”

I smiled. “Yeah.”

We turned away from the ocean. And walked back toward the car. Hand in hand.

The moment we entered our hotel room Quin pulled me towards the balcony.

"What do you want from me Mr McKenzie?"

He stopped and smirked in a creepy and mischievous way. "Checking Italy off the list."

He continued pulling me, I struggled to pull free but it was all in vain.

"Can't you respect the reason we came here."

He began to remove my shirt, then my shorts. "Billie would be proud of her brother." Was all he said before he began to take off his own shirt.

"People can see us if they look properly. Come on."

He chuckled." I don't care. I want my husband."