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“Ahhh…” His voice trailed off. “I’m going to assume that’s a positive response to my formal declaration of marriage. If I’m wrong, tell me now.”
“Nope, you’re not wrong,” I said. “It doesn’t get any more positive than this.”
His grin transformed his face. “I’ll make up for lost time as soon as possible, with the ravishing, as soon as you’re back in form. Demiguel said you can go home in a couple of days and finish recuperating there. When you’re home, we’ll celebrate.”
“So much to celebrate,” I said. “I can’t even pick a thing. There are too many.”
“Yeah, and Holly will be celebrating having a sister. She’s always wanted one,” Shane said. “She’ll be over the moon that this is happening.”
I laughed at that, wiping my eyes. “Reggie, too. I’ve never seen her so happy.”
“The girls have been helping me open up my apartment, down below Ethan’s and Frey’s. We’re going to need our privacy, when you get home. For all that ravishing, you know. It can get noisy.”
“Can’t wait to see it,” I said.
“I think you’ll like it,” he said. “I have a town house in Seattle, too, but Holly and I always liked this place best. There’s a nice bedroom for Reggie. The room I was thinking for your home office has a great view of Mt. Rainier. Very inspiring.”
I reached up, grabbing a piece of his shirt and tugging him toward myself. “I’m feeling inspired right now,” I said. “Get over here, you.”
“Careful! Your shoulder is still?—”
“Don’t worry about my shoulder,” I assured him. “I’m medicated. I’m feeling no pain. You’re all compliments and gorgeous jewelry and declarations of love and ravishment, but guess what, buddy? You’re all talk and no action. Get your fine ass down here right now and kiss me, already.”
He obliged me, and the intoxicating taste of him was a divine elixir. I could have leaped up and danced a passionate tango, though that might have been the morphine talking. Still. Every sweet detail of soft, warm lips, and tongue, and tenderness. Trust.
So good. So delicious. It just rolled over me like a wave of shining glory.
He leaned back for air, stroking my cheek reverently and gazing intently into my wet eyes. “I love you, Red,” he said roughly. “I can’t believe my luck.”
“That makes two of us,” I admitted. “I guess we’ll have to learn how to believe it. We can teach each other, and remind each other whenever we forget. The kissing helps.”
“Sounds like a great plan,” he muttered, as our lips met again.
EPILOGUE
Shane
The waiter left out drinks on the little tables on each side of the beach recliners, and we snuggled up, inhaling the scent of salt and sand. The sweet coconut scent of slathered sunblock. The zingy lime of the cold margaritas.
I readjusted the beach wrap so that her bullet scar was properly covered. “The plastic surgeon said not to let any sun get on it while it’s healing,” I scolded her gently. “You have to be careful.”
She twitched the wrap open, and touched the puckered, shiny red scar. “I’m thinking I might dress it up with another tattoo, once it’s completely healed,” she mused. “Some big, fun flower. A huge poppy, a Bird of Paradise, something like that.”
I leaned down to kiss it. “If you want. But I think it’s beautiful just like it is. It says to me, I survived the impossible. I conquered all. That makes me happy.”
“Awww. That’s sweet,” she murmured, grabbing her drink for a sip through the paper cocktail straw. She glanced over to Holly, who had just leaped headfirst into a warm, green-blue wave of seawater. “The girls are having fun,” she murmured, as Reggie followed suit, shrieking in delight. “I love to see that. It heals my heart.”
“Yeah, but the whole household seemed pretty shocked that we opted for a honeymoon with two ten-year-olds in tow,” I said. “But after all that time in that cell, I don’t want to take my eyes off Holly. Or Reggie, either. She’s a great kid.”
“So glad we’re in agreement about that. And about staying stuck to them like glue. Besides, any minute now they’re going to turn into adolescents and tell us to piss off, so we should enjoy these moments while we can.” She took another sip, and her eyes flashed over to my untouched cocktail. “Don’t you like your margarita?”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I said. “It’s just hard to let go.”
“Of what?”
I shrugged. “I can’t let down my guard,” I admitted. “Alcohol makes me relax, and relaxing feels dangerous. I can drink a beer up at the Mountain House, with a gate and a wall and a security staff and sensors and cameras always running. But a beach resort? Any random asshole off the street could come walking down the beach with bad intentions.”
“They could,” she agreed. “But statistically speaking, they won’t.”
