Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(162)

“Erin, remember?”

“Yeah. So?”

“My own mother never made a steam tent with a towel for me, Doc. You think someone who would do all of that for a grown man would be capable of doing any less for an infant she grew in her own body?”

His brow tipped up.

My mouth poised to argue but I had nothing. “But…” Oh hell. Was I really this pathetic?

The reality of my fears felt heavy, making my shoulders slump. Defeat was exhausting. And there he was, completely naked underneath me, still giving a shit. His compassion for my mental breakdown was written all over his face.

I rubbed the bands of rope still around my calf between my fingers. “What are these ropes made out of anyway?”

Adam dropped his gaze.

“You put truth serum on them or something?”

He chuckled softly, tracing the braid under his hand. “Something like that.”

I took a few regrouping breaths, relieved to see the severity that marred his face earlier had subsided. That’s when it dawned on me. Not only did the truth spill out of me while bound in his magical rope, so did his.

I traced my finger around the curve of his pectoral, delving into the area of his heart, circling the spot. “You really want children, don’t you?”

He met my eyes. “Yes. Eventually.” He covered my hand with his, pressing it flush to his warm skin. His other hand reached up, his thumb softly brushing the edge of my jaw. “But I want to have them with you.”

“Even after all of that?”

“Yes. We may have to live with our guilt, Erin, but together we won’t let it define us.”

I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve this man but I now knew I’d kill to keep it. Both of us, damaged and flawed, and yet together we were more than the sum of our fears.

Words he’d spoken to me rang true and snapped all the pieces together—he made me want to be a better woman.

This is what love was truly all about.





TABITHA MORTON HAD been indicted by a grand jury on charges of first degree murder, aggravated child abuse, aggravated manslaughter of a child, and four counts of providing false information to police.

I scrolled down the screen, seeing justice had been served when she’d been sentenced to life behind bars. Erin had been named as a witness for the prosecution but all other information and original charges had been expunged from record.

Good. That’s good.

I rubbed my forehead, imagining her at sixteen, scared shitless, facing murder charges. And now she was dating a cop who loved seeing her wearing his handcuffs. That was something I’d have to curb going forward. I probably forced her to relive some dark moments while testing her limits.

“Erin all moved out?”

Marcus leaned on the cubical wall divider behind me, coffee mug in hand.

I closed the link to the judicial system web portal. “Yeah. Got everything out yesterday.”

“Sorry I couldn’t help ya.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Now that they extended the hours at the bank, Cherise has been working every other Saturday.”

“No worries, man. We had enough help. She didn’t have that much shit actually.”

“You sure about moving her into your place?”

“I moved her into my house; her furniture and stuff is all in storage.”

Marcus tossed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I know what you mean.” I wasn’t stupid. “Let me ask you a question—were you sure about marrying Cherise when you did?”

His eyes widened a smidgen. “You at that point already?”

I leaned back in my chair. “No. Just trying to make a point.”

Marcus bobbed his head. “When you know, you just know.”

“There you have it.”

“You ready for marriage? That takes shit to a whole new level.”

The rickety chair protested when I leaned back farther. “Slow down and let me enjoy living in sin for a while. We got time. For now, going to sleep and waking up just got a whole lot nicer.”

“Yeah, well. Enjoy that shit while it’s nice. We’ll have this conversation again when your balls are blue from too much hallway sex.”

“Hallway sex?” He stumped me with that one. I hadn’t f*cked Erin at the top of the steps yet, but I could move that location up on the to-do list if it was recommended.

“Listen, there are three different types of sex in a marriage. There’s exciting sex, necessary sex, and hallway sex. Exciting sex is the kind of sex you’re having right now, when you first hook up and can’t wait to get at each other. Necessary sex comes along after you’ve been married a few years and your woman sees it as more of chore than anything. And hallway sex is after you’ve been married so damn long, you pass each other in the hallway and say ‘f*ck you!’”

I cracked up laughing.

“There’s actually a fourth kind of sex,” he continued, “but we don’t like to talk about it. That’s courtroom sex—where your wife and her lawyer f*ck you in public. Ain’t no man want to get anywhere near that kind of sex.”

My gut started to hurt. “You’re too much.”

“That’s what she said.” He grinned broadly at me.