Page 105 of Redeeming

Amelia wraps her arm around my shoulders and squeezes me like I’m one of her boys. “Try harder, Sam. I will not miss out on one single second of my first grandbaby’s life because of you and your business.”

“So, do I have your permission?”

“You don’t need my permission, Callen. But you have my blessing. Keep her safe.” He offers me his hand.

“And maybe try not to assault any more US Senators,” Becket adds.

“Time to shut up, man,” Cade tells him, and I decide it’s time for me to go.

I’ve got better things to do tonight.

CAITLIN

I once read that in the hands of the right man, a woman can be a hundred different versions of herself, limited only by his willingness to make her feel loved and safe. I feel loved and safe. So when do I get to be the version of myself who can see my feet again? Because I miss being able to bend to shave my legs in the shower.

—Caitlin’s Secret Thoughts

Book club is different when one of your friends is a romance author. You talk about the spice in the book, and she points out the plot holes. I mean... it was still hot, even if I now realize it wasn’t very good. It also made me appreciate Callen and his big, beautiful dick because listening to Bellamy, Adelaide, and Coraline talk about the lackluster sex they’ve either had before or are having now—yeah, even nearly nine full months pregnant—I can’t relate.

My sex is great.

We’ve had to get a little more creative as my bump gets bigger and more in the way, but I’m pretty sure Callen has taken that as a personal challenge he’s determined to best. And I’ve got to say, my man loves a challenge.

Pregnancy got so much better once I started getting orgasms whenever I want them.

Which is exactly what I think I want when I walk in the house that night. An orgasm... or three. What can I say? Callen’s a giver, and I will happily be a taker tonight.

Cupcake greets me at the door, like always, shaking her chubby booty as she goes. Only she has a big pink silk bow tied to her collar, and when I untie it, a tiny key slips into my hand.

I look around the dark living room but don’t see Callen anywhere.

He must be home because there’s a fire burning in the fireplace and candles lit on the mantle. Then I notice the giant white box tied with the same pink ribbon that Cupcake wore sitting on the coffee table in the center of the room.

What the hell?

“Callen—” I call out and walk over to the box.

It’s huge.

If I sat this sucker on the floor, it would come up to my knees.

I look around again . . . “Callen?—”

Still nothing.

I mean... it can’t hurt to just untie the ribbon, right?

Of course, the lid accidentally comes off when I untie the bow, so I may just have to look inside. And since it’s already open, I pull out piece after piece of pink tissue paper with small black kittens covering it until I find a smaller box under it all.

Box after box, like little Russian nesting dolls, and each one is bursting with more black cat tissue paper.

I laugh as the tower of tissue paper grows to the point that Cupcake is hidden, snoring underneath it somewhere, and Ifinally get to what I’m assuming is the very last box—a small antique jewelry box with a lock.

Wait. . . my key.

I pull out the key that had been attached to Cupcake and slowly turn it in the lock, then crack the box open and feel my heart squeezing in my chest.

“Callen . . .”

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