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“Looks like Craig knew me better than I thought he did,” he grunted with a short laugh. “I’d have pulled that one over easy on Grant, Maggie. He would have never known I was gone until I didn’t return.”
“Craig did this?” Joe helped her to her feet, his arm curving around her waist as they watched the SWAT team gather up Jose, Roberto, and their henchmen, under the close supervision of Craig Allen, the district attorney, Mark Johnson, and the federal prosecutor, Andrew Jordan.
Craig turned to them slowly, his eyes watching them for long assessing moments before he lifted his hand, touched his fingers to his forehead, and nodded slowly.
“My car is ruined,” Joe sighed.
Maggie jerked her gaze to the car. It was scarred with bullet holes from one end to the other.
“You can fix it.” She was still breathing harshly, hardly daring to believe that it was all over. The information they needed was found, the Fuentes group was back in custody, and she was free.
“How about ‘we’ fix it?” He turned to her, staring down at her with sudden sobriety, his brown eyes almost black with emotion. “We could redecorate the house while we’re at it.”
“We?” she whispered.
“We.” He nodded slowly, his fingers lifting to the bloody scratch on her chest before his gaze came back to hers. “I won’t let you go again, Maggie. Ever. So for your sake, I hope you love me as much I love you, because if not, we’re in for a hell of a battle.”
“We’re in for a hell of a battle anyway.” She couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t stop crying as she threw her arms around his neck, felt his surround her, and knew, in that moment, that her dreams had come true.
She was in Joe’s arms, and he was talking forever. And forever was a good thing.
epilogue
three weeks later
joe found the little plastic stick with the line running through the result window when he dragged himself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom.
Sleep wasn’t something he had gotten a lot of the night before. Maggie, on the other hand—he had gotten a lot of her. He had taken her until he was certain sex would be the furthest thing from his mind for days. Only to reach for her again, impossibly hard, desperate to feel her coming around him.
He stared down at the home pregnancy test, hardly daring to believe what it meant. That in the weeks since he had her back in his bed, a child had developed. The child he had dreamed of having with her every fucking night she had been married to Grant.
He had lived in fear of the other man announcing pending fatherhood. Certain that the moment he heard the news, life would crumble around him. Two years he had spent in hell, aching, tormented by memories of Maggie and a hunger that never slept. A hunger that still didn’t sleep.
How had one tiny woman buried herself so deeply within his heart without his knowledge of it? Yet Maggie had. He loved her in ways he had never loved his first wife. In ways that still defied his own understanding. He would die for her. Without thought. Without regret. He would die for Maggie. And now for their child.
He reached out and picked up the stick, feeling his chest clench as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. And amazingly, he felt the erection between his thighs, his cock thickening, straining as arousal began to tear through him.
Maggie was pregnant.
Joe blinked back the moisture that filled his eyes as the knowledge overwhelmed him, weakened his knees, and made him feel like whimpering in excitement and fear. Damn, he felt like a fucking teenager with his first woman now. His flesh prickled with the sudden awareness of the bond, and his chest felt too tight as his heart seemed to swell with the overabundance of emotion flooding through him.
He backed slowly from the bathroom, his eyes on that small line of color in the result box of the test stick.
“There’s still time to escape.”
He swung around, meeting the brilliance of Maggie’s uncertain gaze. It moved from his face to his cock, her expression flickering with surprise before her eyes returned to his.
“Escape?” He winced at the sound of his own voice, hoarse, ragged. “Maggie…” He shook his head.
Son of a bitch, there were words he should be saying right now. Something poetic or romantic, something that would alleviate the uncertainty in her gaze. But his throat was locked with emotion, his chest heaving from it as he fought to breathe.
But he could still move, and he did so without conscious effort. He dropped the result stick, strode to her, and within seconds he had her in his arms. She wore nothing but his shirt, and he could feel the heat of her body searing him through it. Emotion threatened to overwhelm him as he stared into her eyes, saw the hope, the fears, and the love. Maggie had always stared at him with such love. Then slowly, desperate to feel her, to feel the life within her, Joe went to his knees as his arms wrapped around her hips, pulling her to him. He jerked her shirt up over her abdomen, his face pressing against the soft flesh as he felt the moisture that refused to evaporate from his eyes.
Fuck, he was a grown man. Grown men didn’t cry.
“Joe?” Her voice was low, a sweet little cry filled with hope and love, joy and innocence.
He pressed his lips to her stomach, his hands moving around to grip her hips and hold her close as he imagined he felt the life growing beneath his lips, inside her precious body.
