Page 117 of Beautiful Betrayal

My gaze returns to Eric’s. “Then I should write the check out to you as a fuck-ton?”

Mia, my little keeper of peace, delicately clears her throat and changes the subject. “When do we know if this is over? Are we on lockdown?”

“We aren’t,” Eric replies. “In fact, Blake and I both agree that we need to act as normal as possible.”

“And then what?” Mia asks. “When are we free from this?”

I catch her hand. “Soon, baby.”

Her lips thin and she looks between me and Eric. “Now or in three months?”

Savage stands up. “Axe and I are going to leave you to this. We’ll be nearby if you need us.”

Axe pushes to his feet and offers us a mock salute. I’ve apparently gotten over him and his rash pulling of the gun. Funny how everyone being alive and well smooths out a wrinkle.

“Thanks, Axe,” Mia says. “Take all that chocolate if you want it.”

“Chocolate?” Savage asks, perking up. “What chocolate?”

Mia points to the living room and he heads that way, with Axe scowling and following on his heels.

Eric stands as well. “I need to hit the road.”

My lips press together. “Mia, baby, give me and Eric a moment.”

“Not tonight, Grayson,” Eric replies. “She’s home. Enjoy her being home. I’ll key in the security code and lock up.” With that, he heads out of the kitchen.

Bristling with his dismissal, I stand up with the intent of pursuing him, but Mia is instantly on her feet, stepping in front of me, her tiny hands settling on my chest. “Fighting over money, or me naked in your bed, our bed now, again.” Her blue eyes flash. “Choose now.”

When she puts it that way—Eric can wait.

I scoop her up and start walking to the bedroom.

Chapter seventy-eight

Mia

Grayson wastes no time settling me on the bed and coming down on top of me, the sweet weight of his big body anchored above mine by his elbows. “Mia,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

The truth is, I’m roughened up with emotions, in a way no one else can.

I reach up, my fingers rasping over his newly formed stubble. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

“Me either, baby,” he murmurs, and the mix of tenderness and heat in his stare steals my breath. I still have moments when I can’t believe that this amazing man is affected by me. I know it’s part of what got us in trouble in the past, but I can’t help it. I’m his biggest fan. I will always be his biggest fan, but what I failed to see in the past, by no fault of his, is that he’s mine as well. And for all his years of experience, for all his worldliness, he’s damaged, and I know that I somehow speak to that damage in all the right ways.

He rolls us to our sides, facing each other. “I just wish you didn’t have to feel fear. I want you to just be home and safe.”

“Maybe it’s over.”

“Yes,” he says. “Maybe it’s over, butwe,Mia,are notand never will we be again. And we’re getting married on New Year’s Eve.” Just that easily, he brings us back to where this night once sparkled and shined. His mouth closes down on mine and it’s then that I know he doesn’t want to talk. He doesn’t want to live in the danger and the trouble. He wants to live right here with me, with us, and so do I. His lips caress mine, a feather-light touch I feel in every part of me. Even when we were apart, I felt him deep in my very soul. His fingers trail over my arm, goosebumps lifting in their wake. Right now, there is no Dungeon or house explosion. There’s no murder or mayhem.

There is just us.

Me.

Him.

Loving each other forever.

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