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She immediately tipped her ass and pushed back.

“You fucking me in the bathroom?”

Oh, I was going to fuck her, just not now and not in the bathroom.

I rested my chin on her shoulder. My left hand went to hers still holding onto the basin. I lifted it, held it out in front of us, and used my right hand to slip my ring on her finger.

“You agreeing to be my wife.”

With her eyes still holding mine in our reflection, my woman preformed a miracle.

She didn’t make an already great day better.

She finished the task she’d started with her flirty banter, wit, intelligence, and beauty all those months before.

She did it with one word.

A word she’d never say if she didn’t believe I was enough.

“Yes.”

And with that, Aria Taylor-soon-to-be-Everette made me a believer.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Jonas Lang

“Thankyou for meeting with me. I’m Amy Hart.”

I hung back with my team and watched Zane shake the blonde’s hand.

“Please have a seat.” She swept her hand in the general direction of the longest conference table I’d ever seen.

The fucker had to be twenty feet long and solid mahogany.

Plush, dark-brown leather chairs crowded the table.

Dark-brown Victorian wood paneling on the walls.

The same dark wood in a grid on the coffered ceiling, creating cream squares.

Marble on the floor.

Typical government building.

“Always nice to see what government overspending looks like,” Cash not so quietly said as he pulled out a chair.

Clearly, the woman heard Cash’s remark. Her mouth twitched but she controlled her smile.

“Call me curious,” Zane amicably returned.

“Curious?” Amy inquired.

“Curious as to why the US Treasury Department is asking for a meeting.”

“Please have a seat and I’ll explain.”

“Actually, before we get to comfortable and waste time, you should explain why you called.”

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