Don't Look

Mick shakes his head, but his attention falls to the book on the floor. “You saved more than just me today. A lot of questions will be answered with that book. Money returned. The Bureau will probably connect it to his drug business and lives will be saved by shutting it down. You were damn brave, baby.” He stands up, cradling me in his arms and giving me a stern look. “Just never, ever do it again.”

“Never,” I whisper, smiling and holding on to him for dear life. “Take me to Montana, Mick.”

His arms tighten around me. “On it, Goldie.”

EPILOGUE

Mick

One year later

Before I met Hailey, I thought this ranch in Montana was as close to heaven on earth as I could get. I was wrong. Since I brought home my girl, I’ve surpassed the highest level of paradise and we only continue to travel higher together. Every single day is a blessing I never expected and I am positive I don’t deserve.

I watch through the open doorway of the barn as Hailey takes her daily piano lesson. True to our promise, we learned to play together, but she had more of a knack for it and wanted to be instructed more often. She has the heart of an artist, my Hailey. The walls of our house are decorated with her paintings, each one more gorgeous than the last. Bright splashes of reds and oranges and pinks in a once-beige living space, so similar to the way she’s affected my life, bathing it in color.

We were required to remain in Los Angeles for a couple weeks after Hailey’s father was killed by my own hand, but I managed to get the paperwork, statements and red tape expedited. Nothing was going to stop me from getting her to Montana where I could make her my wife. And I did that immediately, carrying her through the doorway of the closest courthouse on our second morning home. Christ, just the memory of her repeating our marriage vows, sunlight in a halo around her head, has the power to rob me of breath.

She does. Look at her, sitting at the piano bench, her back straight, fingers dancing over the keys. Her instructor—an older woman named June—paces behind Hailey with a satisfied smile on her face, keeping time with a tapping finger on her crossed arms.

Impatient for a better look at my wife, I saunter into the barn to take in her profile. The swell of her pregnant belly heats my blood. Every time. I can’t stop my hands from smoothing over it every time we pass in the hallway, on the ranch, in the bedroom. Inevitably, touching the life we created together makes me hungry for her pussy. I’m never anything but famished for it—and right now is no exception. I ache to express my love every minute of the day. I’m able to do that best when she’s awash in pleasure and I know I’m doing my God-given duty.

Making Hailey happy.

She is happy, isn’t she? I think of her talking with the new book club friends she made, sipping wine in the study with her Kindle in her lap. Think of her running through the fields alongside the horses in the early morning light, laughing and spinning. Even though she never stops smiling, I still worry I’m not doing enough. I was given the world’s sweetest angel and the fear of waking up from this incredible dream never leaves me.

My wife is paradise.

I walk closer to the piano and sunlight dances on the curve of her neck. Goosebumps lift there and I know she senses me. Her fingers hit a bad note on the keys and she stops, her hands dropping to the bench. Clutching it. The only sound in the barn becomes her breath, rasping in and out of her lungs. Hailey is horny. It’s no wonder, since I woke up early to meet with a horse trainer two towns over and didn’t want to disturb her. I’m determined to make sure she stays well rested while carrying our child. Even if that meant leaving my cock hard this morning when I wanted nothing more than to slide into that tight pussy and let it milk me dry.

Not going to lie, it’s even harder now as I approach the piano. Hailey has assured me over and over again that she doesn’t need nice things to be happy. I’ve been determined to give her every single comfort, regardless. Vacations, clothing, jewelry, the best art supplies. She’ll have everything her heart desires—and after this morning, that will be painfully easy. Without my FBI job, I needed to go full throttle on the horse business. And I’ve just negotiated a deal to breed our best stallion with the offspring of a Triple Crown winner, putting a lot more zeroes in our bank account. Maybe I’ll fly her to Paris tomorrow to celebrate.

Fuck it. We’ll go tonight. I want to ride her while she looks through a hotel window at the lit-up Eiffel Tower, dripping in fucking diamonds.

I settle a hand on top of the piano.