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I’d gone back and forth about whether to let Scott live. And until I took off with Ireland, I hadn’t really been sure what the outcome of the situation would be. Killing his buddies had been the most efficient way to ensure they couldn’t alert Scott to our presence when he arrived, but once we had her safe, I had more options for how to deal with him. Ultimately, I decided we should make an example of him.

He’d still get what was coming to him eventually—after suffering for a long damn time. Only then would the asshole die. And he’d do it painfully.

Mac and I grabbed hands and pounded each other on the back once. “Thanks, prez.”

“No need for thanks, Breaker. That’s what the patch is for. One of us has a problem; we all got a problem.”

I nodded, and he strode off without another word. Slipping back into my room, I stopped to let my eyes adjust to the darkness before making my way back to the bed.

I stripped and slipped back under the covers. As soon as I lay down, Ireland scooted close and wrapped herself around me. I kissed the crown of her head, then tucked her face under my chin. “You doing all right, baby?”

“I was scared, but I never doubted for a second that you would rescue me.”

“Always, Ireland. I will always protect you, no matter what.” I gently set her away from me and quickly reached into my nightstand for the little velvet bag I’d tucked in there a week ago. I’d been trying to plan the perfect moment, but I couldn’t wait another second.

I shook the bag, and a diamond ring tumbled into my palm. Without saying a word first, I slipped it onto Ireland’s third left finger, then placed a kiss over it.

“I love you, Ireland. You’re already my old lady, and hopefully soon, the mother of our children, but I also want you to be my wife. I’m going to marry you, baby. Gonna make sure everyone who looks at you knows you belong to me.”

Ireland gasped and jackknifed up in bed. I nearly knocked the lamp over in my haste to turn on the light so I could see what was wrong. She was kneeling on the bed, her right hand covering her mouth and the other held out in front of her, showing off her ring.

“I forgot!” she squeaked suddenly.

“Forgot?” I didn’t understand what she was talking about.

She began to climb off the bed, then paused and glanced back at me. “Yes, by the way.”

My brow furrowed. “Yes?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” She stood and padded over to the dresser where I’d tossed her purse.

“Don’t recall asking, baby,” I grunted, annoyed that I’d just put a ring on her finger, and instead of throwing her arms around me and letting me bury my cock in my fiancée, she’d put the whole length of the room between us. Especially when I was staring at her gorgeous body wearing nothing but my ring. “Now get your sexy ass back here.”

“I have to tell you something,” she hedged as she slowly meandered back toward me, holding one of her hands behind her back.

“I already know you love me,” I declared.

“No, I mean, yes, I do. But I wasn’t talking about that. Okay, I have something to show you.”

I fell back against the headboard with a huff and crossed my arms over my chest, not bothering to hide my hard, swollen cock that was standing straight up, begging for attention.

“Fine. But as soon as you’re done, I want those pretty lips wrapped around your soon-to-be husband’s dick before he does his best to knock you up.”

“Yeah, about that…” She crawled onto the bed, and when she was only a foot away, she shifted back to sit on her heels. Her hand finally came out from behind her, and she held it out, offering me a white stick. “We’ll be practicing for the next one instead.”

My mouth dropped open as I realized what she placed in my palm. I turned it over to see a little window with two pink lines. “You’re pregnant?”

Her hazel eyes glistened with tears, but she was wearing a giant smile when she nodded.

I whooped and tossed the test away to grab my woman and take her down onto her back.

“I love you, baby,” I whispered. “You’re perfect for me”—I grinned wickedly as I slid my hands up from her belly, where our little one was growing, to cup her tits—“and all mine.”

“And you’re mine,” she sighed happily.

“Damn fucking straight. Now, like you said, practice makes perfect…”



I was enjoying a brief, quiet moment in the dressing room before my wedding, so my head jerked up in surprise when I heard a feminine voice say, “You look gorgeous.”

Meeting Wendy’s gaze in the mirror, I smiled. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

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