Wicked and True (Wicked & Devoted 4)

His heart caught and lifted. He’d waited forever to hear those words, and having her say them now was way more than he’d dared to hope for today. Hell, maybe for weeks or months. As long as Tessa had agreed to be his, he’d been prepared to do or say whatever he needed to win her over. But if she already loved him…

She sniffled and looked at him with such an earnest gaze, he melted. “In fact, I’ve loved you for a long, long time, since shortly after you first walked through my door.”

“Baby…” He gripped her shoulder. “Is that a yes? You’ll marry me?”

More tears fell, but she gave him a watery, heartfelt nod before throwing herself against his chest. “Yes. I’d be thrilled and honored to marry you.”

“Oh, thank fuck. I want this ring on your finger before you have a chance to change your mind.” He slid it on, surprised to find his own hand shaking.

It fit perfectly.

She gave him a tearful giggle and looked down at the diamond winking on her finger, then back up at him. “Oh, my gosh. I’m going to be Mrs. Garrett.”

“Damn straight.” Zy couldn’t resist another second. He kissed her—for the first time finally knowing he could claim her mouth every day for the rest of his life. “The sooner the better.”

“I can’t wait. My life is complete now because I have you.”

“Same, baby.” He cupped her face. “And you better not ever stop looking at me like that.”

She grinned, beaming with joy and love. “Like what?”

“Like you want me to peel off your clothes and take you to bed as much as I’m dying to.”

“I’ll never stop, I promise. I just want to know what you’re waiting for.”

“Nothing. I’m done waiting. You’re mine now—forever.”

February 2

3 a.m.

Forest Scott, known to most everyone as Trees—because what else was someone supposed to call a gawky-as-fuck, six-foot-eight dude?—jolted awake to the nagging whine pealing from the alarm panel and sat straight up in bed.

Someone unauthorized had opened one of his doors or windows.

His first thought was of Laila Torres.

Had someone come to take her from him…or was she trying to escape?

Again.

It didn’t matter which scenario he was facing, someone was getting interrogated tonight.

Trees vaulted out of bed and disengaged the alarm before hopping into his sweatpants and steel-toed boots. Without bothering to lace up, he grabbed the Benelli he kept propped beside his bed and a pair of cuffs from his nightstand, then pocketed the nearby flashlight.

Trees prowled across the house quietly—a skill acquired from years at war in both urban dogfights and desert shitholes—until he reached Laila’s bedroom. He wasn’t surprised to find the door closed. She shut it every night. Locked it, too. Apparently, she thought that would save her from him if he was the kind of asshole who would force his way into her bed. She had known men like that most of her life, so he’d let her keep the illusion. Trees hated to screw with her peace of mind now, but…

He had her door open in less than ten seconds.

Her bed was empty, her window tightly shut. But it was chillier in here, as if someone had recently let the winter night into her room.

Son of a bitch.

He doubled back, charging to the front door, plucked his coat off the nearby hook, and shoved it on over his bare torso as he hauled ass onto the porch. Thank god he still had a pair of thermal night-vision binoculars in his pocket.

Trees lifted them to his face and found Laila in seconds.

She was alone.

He grunted, wanting to be grateful that someone hadn’t taken her from him, but he was just too pissed. Did the woman not understand that her life was in danger? Or did she simply not value her goddamn safety?

Cursing, he bounded off the porch and ran after her. He would catch up to her quickly for four reasons: First, she had nothing on her feet but flimsy flip-flops. Second, it was thirty-seven degrees, and she was covered only by a tank top and short shorts. Third, his height advantage meant he had hella long legs, and her soft curves proved that, unlike him, she didn’t run a few miles a day. Fourth—and most important—she might want to leave him badly enough to brave nature and the elements at three o’clock in the morning, but he was far more determined to keep her under his roof.

Hell, if he could, he’d keep her in his bed. But ever since he’d heaped a trio of orgasms on her and shared the most mind-blowing fuck of his life, she’d done nothing but try to escape him.

Time to drag her back, put his foot down, and tell her exactly how things were going to be.

It didn’t take him long to catch her. He could see the flash of her sleek, naked legs in the moonlight, along with the puffs of her breaths in the cold.