“But I am on birth control.”

He jerked his head back and tilted mine up to look at him, his brow furrowed. “Then why am I always wearing one?”

I shrugged. “Neither is one hundred percent effective, and since Candice was always with guys I made her use both so she wouldn’t have mini Candices running around. I guess my own argument just followed me.”

His scowl deepened. “Do you want to marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to have kids with me?”

“Someday,” I whispered.

“Do you ever miss taking your pill?”

“Never.”

His gray eyes turned silver and the heat in them warmed my body. “Bed. Now. We’re never using condoms again.”

“Pancakes?” I argued miserably.

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He turned off the skillet, put the batter in the fridge, and pointed in the direction of his bedroom. “We’ll make them later. Go.”

“But—”

“Woman, I just found out that you’ve been on the Pill this whole time. Right now I’m struggling not to spank the hell out of you. Last time I’m going to tell you.” He leaned in close and ordered gruffly, “Bed, Rachel. Now.”

Goose bumps covered my skin and a pleasant shiver made its way through my body as I turned to leave the kitchen. I’d barely made it two steps when his hand came down across my butt, which was still covered in his shirt. “Whoa!” I yelled, and covered myself with my hands as I turned to face him. “Ow! That hurt, you jerk!” I went to smack him but he caught my hand and smiled as he kissed my palm.

“Don’t lie, Sour Patch, you enjoyed it.” When he lifted me up, I automatically wrapped my legs around his hips and let him walk me back to the bedroom. “And you’re gonna get another one for making me take you to the bed.”

I didn’t even try to argue. The way his heated eyes mixed with that arrogant smile I’d fallen in love with made for one delicious combination. And I decided right then that I liked this side of Kash.

Epilogue

Four months later . . .

Kash

“YOU GOOD?” I asked Mason as we headed back toward the elevators.

He shrugged and punched at the buttons on the wall. “There’s only so much you can do to get them to go in a different direction. He wanted to follow his brother.”

We’d gotten a call late last night from homicide detectives about a murder that looked gang related. It had ended up being a drive-by involving a newer gang that we’d come across recently, and one of the two victims was a thirteen-year-old Mason had been trying to get off the streets over the last few months named Lil Tay. And though Mason was acting like this was just another case, I knew this was harder for him than the rest.

Knowing there was nothing I could say, I clapped his shoulder and let him be alone with his thoughts. Grabbing my phone, I smiled when I finally saw Rachel’s text from last night.

SOUR PATCH:

Just so you know . . . cleaning up from a whipped cream war without you isn’t nearly as fun. See you when you get home. Love you.

We just finished up, be home soon babe. Love you too.

Rachel had moved to Tampa Bay the week after she showed up in my apartment and I’d never been happier. My parents loved her just as much as she loved them, and she fit in with my life well. Mason’s younger sister and Rachel were practically inseparable and his parents viewed her as an extension of their family, the same way they did me.

Candice was graduating at the end of this month and we were taking a two-week vacation to be there and spend time with the Jenkinses in California before Candice came back with us for a month. Rachel couldn’t wait to see her, and honestly, I think Mason was excited to have that particular hookup back.

Work was going well; Mase and I—as well as our parents—were happy we were out of the inner parts of narcotics. Living that way isn’t something that any cop would want; the reward of bringing down an entire drug ring was what had made it worthwhile. For us to go to the gang division was natural. We knew the ins and outs of different gangs, already knew a lot of the members, and were no longer undercover. It was perfect for us, and we were good at what we did. Most importantly, Rachel supported me one hundred percent.

A month after Rachel had moved here, I’d asked her to marry me again. This time, there was absolutely nothing between us and everything about it felt different . . . felt right. We talked about everything, there were never secrets kept unless there was a surprise involved, and there were never any lies. And even when my family and Mason’s asked for her side of the story about our time in Texas and when we broke up, Rachel never held it against me. She’d gotten everything out the night she came here and left it there. She wasn’t one to hold grudges, and I loved her for it. I would always hate myself for what happened, but whenever I started to bring it up, she would kiss me to shut me up and say we were moving forward.

We were getting married at the end of June, and Rachel and my mom had been busy planning the wedding since we set the date. I loved that she was enjoying this and that she was going to get the wedding she deserved, but I didn’t care about the details. I just wanted her to be mine, and in a month and a half, she would be.

The doors to the elevator opened and we stepped in. Just as they were closing, someone started yelling my name from down the hall and Mason caught the door just in time.

“Ryan! Gates!” Sergeant Ramirez ran toward us and as soon as he was in the elevator, he started pounding on the Close Doors button.




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