Page 90 of Dirty Love

He laughs. “Okay.” He moves out of the way. “Have a nice night, Carter. See you around.”

I take the stairs down to the floor below, where my love is waiting.

She swings the door open as I approach. “There’s my secret girl,” I whisper as she folds into my arms.

“I’ve missed you.” She tips her face up to mine and I dip her back so we can kiss.

“I’m going to quit my job and follow your tour like a groupie.”

“Luckily it ends tomorrow night, because I think you like your job.” She kisses my jaw. “Come to bed.”

“In a minute.” I dump my bag on the luggage rack and pull out the long, flat jewelry box from the front pocket. “I got you something to celebrate the end of the tour. And the start of us.”

The box opens smoothly. Inside is a long, narrow gold chain with a heart in the middle.

“It’s a belly chain,” I explain, suddenly unsure if it’s a good gift or not. It made sense when I bought it. “And the heart can sit…”

She blinks up at me, her eyes swimming brightly with unshed tears. “I get it. Oh, Wilson. I love it. I love you. It’s perfect.”

I kneel in front of her and she lifts her t-shirt, baring herself to me. I wind the chain around her waist, carefully connecting the clasps first before resting the pendant right above the filigree heart at the bottom of her tattoo.

It is perfect.

—epilogue—

Wilson

one year later

Seattle

February

My secret girl has the flu. She’s been sick for days, and I’ve been playing nursemaid—and a few rounds of dirty doctor, too.

Even when she’s not feeling well, we still slide into that desperate, needy connection that was all that we had for so long.

I glance around the waiting room. Her new doctor has been extraordinarily good with her, patient and understanding.

The door from the clinic space opens and Tabitha steps out. She’s still talking to the nurse. “Still keep taking the Tylenol?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Lots of rest, fluids, and making sure you’re eating enough, that’s the main thing.”

“Will do.”

“And we’ll see you back here in another month.”

I stand up and hold her coat for her as she wriggles her arms into it. “Ready to go?”

She gives me an unexpected grin. “I am. There’s a quick stop we need to make on the way home.”

I’d gotten a perfect parking spot, so my Range Rover is right out front. I still have my Tesla in Washington, but I needed something more rugged for out here, and the Rover was just as compatible with the electronic upgrades I’d gotten used to in my Tesla.

The security system at her house—our house—for example, is fully integrated into the car. I can pull up all the same video streams I can on my phone, even take a snapshot with the touch of my finger and send it to my bots to run through the databases.

Bulletproof glass, reinforced doors…the only thing it’s missing is a rocket launcher.

Washington State frowns on those in cars, and I’m trying to be more law-abiding these days.

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