Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
He cupped my face and ran his thumb over my lower lip. “I have no idea, but I’m glad it did.”
“Are we okay?” I asked.
“More than okay. If you forgive me for the things I said, I promise—”
Rafe nodded frantically. “I do. Maria told me it was all bullshit, but I’d already figured that out.”
“Did she say that when she took your statement?”
“You mean, when I gave her a load of bullshit so everyone can come out of this looking okay?”
He laughed. “Same thing. Most statements are bullshit.”
“So what happens now? With us?”
Zach exhaled. “I’ve resigned my position with the FBI.”
“You did?”
“I would have left anyway to be with you, but if I leave, they’ll let me go out with style.”
“Thanks to Maria?”
“Maria, and apparently Xavier.”
I nodded. “Yeah, interesting coincidence.”
“I still don’t quite understand how everything connects.”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure I do either.” I scooted closer and held Zach’s hand in both of mine.
He laced his fingers with mine. “We’d probably be better off not thinking too much about it.”
“I’m sure we would.” My heart was racing. Could he tell?
He parted his lips and ran his tongue over them. “Maybe we could think about us instead.”
“You want there to be an us?” Fuck, I could hardly breathe.
“That’s what loving you means, Rafe. It means I want to stay with you. It means you’re mine. It means I’m not going to let you go.”
I smiled. “I like that. I’m not going to let you go either. I don’t want to hurt you, but please tell me I can kiss you.”
“You better kiss me. I don’t care if it hurts.”
I leaned down and pressed my lips to Zach’s, giving him a gentle kiss at first. Then he pushed his hand into my hair and deepened the kiss. I was lost. Everything faded away—the beeps of machines, the movement up and down the hall, everything but Zach. The feel of him, the taste of him, the smell of him. He was all mine, and I was never going to let him go.
39
EPILOGUE
Three months later
Zach
Ileft the follow-up with my orthopedist with a huge smile on my face. I was finally free of the stupid fucking boot. I’d been wearing it for the last four weeks after six weeks of a fucking cast. I was done. I wanted to wear real shoes. I wanted to feel the ground beneath me. And I wanted to bend Rafe over the bed and rail him.
Ever since Ivanov had captured me and broken my leg, Rafe treated me like I was made of glass. I thought it would be better when the cast came off, but he was still insistent that I didn’t put too much weight on my foot. I couldn’t put him over the end of the bed or hold him up against the wall, no matter how much he loved it. It had been ages before he let me fuck him from behind when I was kneeling on the mattress.
I’d had enough, but now my doctor had cleared me. I’d continue with physical therapy and an exercise regimen, but my leg felt great. I wouldn’t put up with him worrying anymore.
Tonight was going to be a damn good night because I had several surprises for Rafe, including a gift I hoped would mean as much as I thought it would. But first, I had an appointment with Simone, the hairstylist he’d recommended. My natural hair had grown out enough that I was ready to get the blond that was left color matched and be fully back to red, just like he wanted.
“What do you think?” I stared at myself in the mirror. It was me, the normal me, but so much better. “How did you make my curls look like that?”
Simone explained how she used a combination of curl cream and gel and how important it was to use a diffuser or let my hair air-dry. Before the appointment, I hadn’t even known what a diffuser was, but I was ready to buy one if I could look like this every day. Rafe was going to go crazy.
“You have amazing hair,” Simone said.
Heat filled my cheeks. “I’m hoping my boyfriend thinks so.”
“If he doesn’t, he’s an idiot.”
I laughed and then spent more money on hair products than I’d ever imagined I would. When I left the salon, I headed to Marchand’s Jewelry French Quarter. The store had been owned by the same family for over one hundred and fifty years. My research told me they were the best, so that was where I went despite the ungodly cost, not that I really needed to worry. Rafe never let me spend my own money on anything. He insisted there was no need for that, and I had to admit I hadn’t minded being a kept man.