He’s breaking this down so nicely. It’s quid pro quo, and I’d be the biggest kind of arsehole not to give him what he gave to me. And let’s face it, he lost a lot because of what I did.
I suddenly feel small and petty when I realize that what he did to me doesn’t compare to what I’d done to him. Not that it’s a game of one-upmanship, but, clearly, Saint had been in prison and hadn’t had the chance to see his mother before she’d died.
The worst that happened to me had been a needle in my neck and missing out on a dangerous drop off that could have cost me my life.
I fold my hands in my lap, staring at my fingers. I can’t even bear to look at him as I murmur, “I forgive you.”
Those words seem so inadequate. Sure, Saint and I had both been operating from the same place of care and worry over each other. Our reasons had been—some would even argue—altruistic. However, the consequences to him were severe while I’d merely had my feelings hurt.
Gah… I’m the world’s biggest arsehole. I don’t deserve him.
It hits me… I need to flee. Get out of here. Out of the Rosewood. Let Saint move on to a life with someone who—
“And now,” he says smoothly, cutting into my thoughts. My eyes fly to his. “Can we get to the I love you part?”
I blink.
Blink again.
Jaw dropping slightly, I ask, “Excuse me?”
“The I love you part,” he repeats, now scooting to the edge of his chair and reaching out to snag my hand in his. He leans in. “I love you, Sin. You are my soulmate—as cliché as that sounds. There isn’t another woman I could even remotely love. You’re it for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to get married and have babies and grow old together. I want it all. The life we’re supposed to have because God knows… we’ve both been through fucking hell to get here.”
And suddenly… nothing about our past matters. Not if forgiveness has been so freely given and accepted.
What matters is right now.
And tomorrow.
And all the days to come.
I uncurl my legs, then lurch out of the chair to throw myself at Saint. He catches me easily, suavely maneuvering me sideways onto his lap. My arms around his neck locked in a death grip, I bury my face in his neck where I’m able to whisper, “I love you, too. So much. And I want a future with you. It’s the only thing I want.”
“Marriage and babies?” he asks, and I jerk up to see his face.
And God… that look.
I feel like I could get pregnant from the intensity of his gaze on me right now.
“We’d make beautiful babies,” he points out.
“We could get started right now,” I counter, looking over to the elevators. “You can take me up to your room… and we could so get started right now.”
Saint is up and out of his chair so fast I yelp, grabbing at his shoulders to hang on. Doesn’t matter. His arms are strong, and he strides through the lobby confidently carrying me.
Anyone who’s watching knows exactly where we’re going and what we’re about to do.
I smile, resting my head on his shoulder.
It’s the beginning of our new life together.EPILOGUESaintTwo months later…
“It’s a perfect day for an outdoor wedding,” Sin says as we move into the second row of chairs from the front.
I couldn’t agree with her more. A mild seventy-six degrees, it’s sunny with white fluffy clouds rolling lazily by.
Joslyn and Kynan have been planning this wedding for a few months. They wanted low-key for only close friends and family. Joslyn wanted it at their house, which Kynan had bought for them upon moving to Pittsburgh permanently.
A beautiful log cabin home with a forest-green metal roof and matching shutters, it sits on the side of a hill that overlooks the city of Pittsburgh down below.
We’ve been asked to take our seats as the wedding is starting soon, but we’d done some socializing early on after arriving. Of note, the entire Jameson Force Security team is—for the first time since I started—all together. Every member from Vegas flew in, including the prior owner, Jerico Jameson, and his wife, Trista.
It’s good to see Tank and Merritt. They’d convalesced back in Vegas, which is where they’re normally based—Tank with a gunshot wound to his shoulder, and Merritt with some shrapnel wounds from explosives.
Noticeably absent are Jimmy and Sal, and, of course, Malik. There’s been absolutely no progress in finding him. Things on that front feel… hopeless.
Which is why I’m glad Kynan and Joslyn are going forward with the wedding. There’d been some talk of canceling it—making a quick trip to Vegas to do the deed—because maybe it would be a little inappropriate to celebrate happiness when there had been such tragedy this summer for our Jameson family.