Tough Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous, #2)(87)
“Tough looks amazing on you. I always knew it would.”
“Thank you,” I say, casting my eyes down in an old habit.
As he’s done dozens of times before, Rogan lifts my face toward his. “You never have to hide, especially from me. I love you just the way you are. Beautiful, perfect, real.”
“Thank you for fighting for me.”
“I never stopped.”
No, he didn’t. And he never will. He’s my fighter. My love. My Rogan.
EPILOGUE
Rogan
Five months later
“Good for you, Mona,” Katie says from her seat. I glance over to see her typing something into her phone.
“What’d she do? Use ‘onomatopoeia’ correctly?” I grin just thinking about Katie’s friend and her new love of the dictionary.
“No, she dumped White. She says she wants the dream now. I guess seeing how happy I am, how you treat me and how a good relationship works has made her see White for the cheating crapbag that he is.”
“Cheating crapbag, huh?”
She giggles and leans her head back against the seat to smile over at me. “I got tough, but my words are still . . . mild.”
“I think in this case, you could spare something a little tougher, don’t you?”
“Sure. Mona’s worth it,” she says, straightening. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about ‘shitbird’?”
“Yeah, White’s a shitbird!” she says enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling. “A shitty, shitty shitbird.”
I laugh outright. “God, I love you.”
Her face takes on that glow she gets when I tell her I love her. It makes me want to take her to bed and tell her over and over and over again just how much I love her.
“Damn, you’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks stain pink and she stretches across to kiss my cheek. “And you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.” She nuzzles my neck, pressing her chest against me as she rests her hand along my thigh.
“Okay, so we have two options. Either take your wicked lips and your delicious body back over to your side of the car, or stay where you are and reap the consequences.”
“What consequences are those?” she asks around a husky laugh as she rubs her tits against my shoulder.
Damn her.
“They involve me pulling off the side of the road, putting my hands up that tiny little skirt you’re wearing and probably embarrassing the shit out of you right here in front of my friend’s house.”
She turns around, wide-eyed and surprised to see that we have arrived. “I thought you were taking me to some rustic spot in the mountains,” she says as she eyes the big stone house sitting at the top of the circular end of Chiara’s drive.
“I am. We aren’t quite there yet.”
I park in front of the granite steps that lead to the front door. Tag is standing at the top of them, smiling. From the corner of my eye, I see Katie smooth her hair over her left shoulder. I shift into park and reach for her hand when it flutters back to her lap. “Don’t be nervous.”
She turns her dark blue eyes to mine. “I’m not nervous.”
“You are nervous. You still pull your hair around when you’re nervous.”
Her lips part like she’s going to argue, but then she just smiles sheepishly instead. “You know me too well. No fair.”
“You have nothing to worry about. Tag’s a great guy.”
She smiles around a calming breath. “He has to be a great guy. And anyone worth your time is someone I’ll love. Maybe I am a little nervous. I guess I just want him to like me because he’s important to you.”
“He’s gonna love you. The only thing you need to worry about is Tag flirting with you and getting his ass kicked. That could really compromise the weekend.”
Her lips ease into a more natural smile. “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that.”
“Good. Then just relax. This is supposed to be fun.”
“Fun business?”
“Yep. Fun business.”
I kiss her knuckles then give her lips a short peck—anything more than that always gets me in trouble—before I get out and walk to her side of the car and open her door. We walk hand in hand to meet my friend.
He descends the few steps and gives me a bear hug. When he leans back, we exchange a look that says a lot. It says we’re glad to see each other. It says we’ve been through hell together. It says we’re both happy that the threat to our group is neutralized. Yet neither of us has to say a word.
When his gray eyes flicker to Katie, I turn and put my hand at her lower back. “Tag Barton, meet Katie Rydale.”
I see his eyes sweep her appreciatively. He’s my friend and I know he means nothing by it. It’s a guy thing—checking a woman out that way. But more than that, it’s a Delta Five thing. It’s habit now, I’m sure, for all of us to observe, to take in details, to make all kinds of mental notes. It’s part of our training.
I grit my teeth and suck it up, because he’s my friend and this is important. What I’m not prepared for, though, is Katie’s reaction. Her smile is small and shy, like it used to be for me, but her eyes flicker up to his and away, up to his and away. Like she can’t stop looking at him.