The Wrong Right Man(61)

“Yeah.”

“Freddie isn’t pressing charges,” he tells me—something I already heard.

“Jamie will be happy.”

“He’s been arrested for what he did to you.”

“Good,” I mumble, and silence settles between us. I close my eyes and try to sleep, but his statement from yesterday keeps replaying in my mind. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Ask away.” His hand moves to my hip to squeeze.

I tip my head back toward him and find his eyes closed. “Do you want kids?”

At my question, his eyes open to meet mine then he rolls me to my back and cups my cheek. “Yes, I want kids.”

“How do you feel about adopting?” I ask, holding my breath as his eyes search mine.

“Is that something you want?”

“Yes,” I admit quietly. “I want kids of my own, but I also want to adopt. I’ve always wanted a big family with lots of kids running around.”

His eyes soften and he rests his forehead to mine. “I like that idea.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t move away, so I take a breath to work up the courage to ask what I need to ask.

“Why do you think you’re falling in love with me?”

“I don’t think I’m falling in love with you.” His eyes stay locked with mine as his thumb glides over my jaw. “I am in love with you.”

“How do you know?”

“How do you know you need to breathe?” he asks in return, and tears start to fill my eyes. “Loving you isn’t something I think about. It’s something that has happened without me thinking about it and is as natural to me as taking my next breath.”

I lift my hand and rest it against his scruffy cheek as tears slide into my hair. “I love you too.” The words are harsh as I lean up and press my lips to his. He kisses me back, and I smile against his lips then let my head fall back against the pillow. “How did this happen?”

“Determination.” He rolls to his back with me in his arms, and I straddle his waist then look down into his eyes, knowing he’s right.

The only explanation for everything that happened between us since the moment we met is his determination to get his way.

I’m just glad that Mr. Wrong ended up being Mr. Right.





Epilogue


Braxton

Two months later . . .



I WALK INTO the kitchen glancing along the counters for my cell then go to my office and look under the stack of papers there then into the living room where Dakota is sitting on the couch reading to look around. It’s been two months since we found out Freddie was responsible for everything that happened to her. Since then he sat Jamie down and explained that he hoped she would find out about the threat, tell her brother and then step in to save the day. He didn’t know about me, but knew his plan wouldn’t work when he saw her and I together. That’s when he got drunk, stole the watch she had given to Jamie and broke into her place trashing it in a rage. His hope in admitting the truth was that he would be able to go on tour with Jamie and the rest of the guys, but all that happened was Dakota got closure. The guys left him behind, the trust they had built demolished by his actions and now Jamie is on tour with a song playing at number one on every single radio station in the country and in some parts of the world. Dakota has also won over Kathy, or I should say Hanna introduced her family to her new man and Kathy let go of the hope that Hanna and I would end up together. But that doesn’t mean that myself or Chris has stopped trying to move Dakota, not that it’s worked.

“Can I help you?” Dakota asking that question pulls me from my thoughts and I focus on her, feeling my chest warm. As fucked up as what Freddie did is, I still understand why he would go to such extreme lengths to get her attention. Why he would do something fucked up in the attempt to make her his.

“Have you seen my cell?” I ask narrowing my eyes on her, because my phone seems to disappear a lot when we are home alone together, and then reappear in the oddest places. And I do consider this our home even if she still has her place downstairs. Since I told her I love her we haven’t spent a night apart unless I have to be out of town and even then she still stays here.

“Your cell?” She glances around then looks at her book muttering. “I haven’t seen it.”

“Dakota,” I wrap my hands around my hips. “I’m expecting an important call.”

She slowly lifts her eyes to meet mine. “Then Braxton you should really be more responsible with your stuff. Plus it’s Sunday, no one works on Sunday.” Fuck I love her. I had no idea I was capable of loving someone the way I love her. I eye her for a moment then say screw it, work can wait. I go to her and pull the book from her hand then toss it across the room. “Hey, I was reading that.”

“To bad, if I can’t work you’re going to entertain me.” I scoop her up and with her laughter ringing through the apartment I carry her to my bed where I spend the rest of the day making love to the woman who changed everything for me.

________________

Eight months later . . .



I shut off the water and get out of the shower to dry off then tie my towel around my waist. I head into the closet to get dressed, and as I usually do, I place my suit on the chair along with my dress shirt then go to my new tie rack, finding it empty. I frown then go to the drawer my ties used to be in, but it’s full of delicate lace.