Page 43 of Jealous Convict


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Soon she’ll be in my arms again.

I’ve been gone six days and it felt like six years. My jaw clenches hard as the agony of being away from her flays me alive.

Five years ago I promised my father one clandestine mission a year for four years just to ensure Kitty’s safety during that prison riot, then I added another year just to be with her for one more minute before I was dragged away.

I’d needed to confirm for myself that she was unharmed.

My bastard of a father didn’t know I would’ve promised one mission a year for the next century if it meant seeing her beautiful face, feeling her soft skin, those soft lips on mine for just one second.

Well, I’ve kept my promise. And now I’m free. Thank fuck.

Which means I’m never leaving her side. Ever.

One more mile to go.

I see the signpost for the small town in Northern Seattle where we moved four years ago and another layer of tension evaporates.

If I had my way, I’d have found us the remotest place on earth so I wouldn’t have to share her with anyone, but my girl wanted to be close enough to see her parents a few times a year and to pursue her law career.

She has me wrapped around her little finger and I’d happily die there with a smile on my face. It’s a good thing she doesn’t mind my rabid emotions where she’s concerned.

Her last year at Stanford before she transferred to a Seattle college to finish her law degree revealed the true depths of my unhinged feelings for her.

But my brave girl took it all in her beautiful stride.

She didn’t whine when I stalked her around campus, growling at any fucker foolish enough to venture close.

She learned quickly enough to sit with female students because I had no qualms about sliding into her lecture halls and encouraging any guy sitting next to her to move along. Or fucking else.

And when her belly grew round with our baby and she switched to remote learning, I drew baths and rubbed her beautiful feet, worshipping every inch of her body every chance I got.

And the years have just gotten better and better.

She has her law license now but practices remotely from home, which I’m stupidly thankful for. I’m one hundred percent sure I’d lose my mind if she was out of my sight all day.

I rev the throttle again and the kick of horsepower propels me ever closer to home. I would be worried about delaying my return with a possible stop for speeding if all the cops in our small town weren’t in my pocket in some way, shape or form.

I’d made myself invaluable to them by giving every one of them off-duty jobs of protecting my family and working part-time in my cyber-security company and paying them handsomely for it.

I spot one now as I take the last bend in the mountain pass.

He sends me a salute and I nod in return.

He, along with six of his buddies, have been guarding Kitty and our babies in my absence.

Not that she knows this, of course.

She and I have our own set of agreed rules on how to keep safe when I’m away.

Which is why my jaw clenches when the front door flies open a second after I turn off the ignition, step off the bike and flick the kickstand into place in front of the stone and wood cabin I built for us with my bare hands.

I freeze for a second and every scrap of oxygen leaves my lungs at the sight of her.

Fuck me. She’s a vision.

Then my long legs eat up the distance because she’s rushing toward me in her bare feet—another rule she’s breaking, damn this girl—and flings herself into my arms.

“You’re home!”

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