Jolie approached, her eyes fastened on her husband. He watched her in return, gratitude and love all over his face.
She still shook with the adrenaline churning through her blood as she fumbled with the little key. Finally, she managed to shove it in the hole, turn it, and wrench him free.
Instantly, Heath took her into his arms and pressed her close, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in. “You saved me.”
“You’re alive.” Jolie trembled all over.
Never had she loved anyone more. Until him, she had never taken chances, never believed in anything she couldn’t accomplish by herself, never known what it was to be half of a solid unit that would stand forever.
Now, knowing they had a future together, she could finally really live.
“Love . . . You didn’t have to risk yourself to—”
“Yes, I did. You sacrificed yourself to save me. How could I do less for you?” She peppered his jaw with kisses. “Now we’ll have the chance to spend our lives together and—”
“I almost got you killed. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d been your undoing.” He held her tighter—then abruptly let her go. “I’m not worthy.”
Jolie’s heart plummeted to her feet. She stared at him, blinked, tried to read between the lines. “Not worthy? You are the best man. Everything to me . . .”
“I can’t live in a world where you don’t exist, and I only know one way to make sure you’re safe from my past.”
What was he saying, that he intended to leave her for her own good? “I need you beside me.”
He shook his head, his dark eyes filling with moisture. “You nearly died because of my blind foolishness. I never imagined Myles would have been the one—”
“Who in their right mind would?” she argued, reaching for his hands and refusing to let go. “You believed he was your friend. But you saved me. You sacrificed for me. I understand now that you gave your life’s savings to me because you believe in me.”
Heath nodded. “Of course. I know you’ll achieve great things. You may not like the method I chose, and I’m sorry for that. But I never did it to deceive you, simply to provide what you needed and deserved in a way that allowed you free rein.”
His words touched her so deeply. Never had a man been more perfect for her. Never would she find another one like him. Never would she love again.
Even if he left a million times over for her “own good,” she would hunt him down and bring him back.
“I didn’t understand at first. I spent so much time trying not to be duped and used by men, like my mother. I couldn’t believe that anyone would really want to invest in me simply because they thought I could achieve good things. You’re the first one. The only one.”
“I’ll always believe in you.” He looked as if he wanted to touch her so badly but didn’t allow himself.
Jolie wasn’t having any of that. “Then believe in us. Because I believe in you, too. I believe in how good and strong and just you are. I believe you’re the other half of my soul. And if you leave, Myles will have won after all. You don’t want to bury me, live in a world without me? I don’t want to lose you, live my life without the perfect man for me by my side.” Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she pressed closer to him, willing him to understand. “Stay.”
Heath didn’t say anything for a terrible, timeless moment. He searched her face, his thoughts clearly racing.
Finally, someone else cleared his throat and broke into the conversation. Tyler. “Dude, do it. Just say yes. Take it from someone who tried to deny how much he loved his wife for way too long. That walking-away-to-be-the-better-man shit never works out. You’ll wind up with her again and be so damn over the moon that you decided to give forever another chance. Seriously.” Tyler shrugged. “C’mon. Kiss and make up.”
The other men laughed, except One-Mile, who rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re all pussy whipped.”
No one listened to him.
Hope and wonder spread across Heath’s face. “You forgive me? You really want me to stay?”
“Of course!” She sent him a saucy stare. “You said you liked a challenge. Here I am.”
A grin finally cut through his despair and he eased closer. “Yes, living with you will be, I’m certain. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Well, I would never want to bore you,” she drawled.
“You never could, Jolie Powell. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now will you kiss me so we can live happily ever after?” she sniffled through her tears.
He leaned in and put his arms around her, holding on tighter than ever. “I’d like nothing more . . .”
Epilogue
December
CUTTER Bryant stepped through the wrought iron door and into bedlam. Voices and laughter resounded just over the din of holiday music in the massive foyer of what could only be called a mansion. Polished travertine gleamed, blending perfectly with the rich cream plaster walls. The soft color highlighted the intricate crown molding that rimmed the ceiling and every doorway in sight. A festive garland wrapped the soaring columns and elaborate handrails up both sides of the double staircase in fresh pine, scenting the room. Twinkling white lights and big red bows added to the holiday cheer. An enormous chandelier illuminated every corner with a warm glow, centered above a Christmas tree that had to be twenty feet tall.
Holy shit. How much did a place like this cost?
You’re a long way from the double-wide . . .
Callie Mackenzie scurried up to him, wearing a stunning red dress, killer black heels, and a welcoming smile. “Hi, Cutter. Glad you could come to the party. Merry Christmas!”
He smoothed a palm down his well-worn jeans, feeling distinctly underdressed. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Mrs. Mackenzie. The sign on the door said to come in . . .”
“Totally. And please, call me Callie.” She paused to look around him. “Where’s your plus one?”
“She couldn’t make it,” he managed to say with a smile.
The truth still felt like a hot poker in his chest.
“Sorry to hear that, but I guess that just means more eggnog for the rest of us.” She winked. “Come join the party. The caterers set up the food in the dining room but we’re all hanging around the kitchen.”
“Thanks. This is for you.” He handed her a bottle of merlot. God, the woman probably had a cellar full of expensive vino. He knew shit about wine and hoped she’d find this more palatable than a cross between Boone’s Farm and Drano.
She took it, looking genuinely touched. “Thank you. You didn’t have to bring me anything. I just wanted your company.”
So Sean had said when he’d texted the invite. Cutter still couldn’t figure out exactly why they had asked him to join their party, but he followed Callie down their airy, window-lined hallway, past a formal living room with a baby grand, a stunning office with an imposing mahogany desk and towering bookshelves filled with hardbound tomes, then finally a formal dining room laden with food and another chandelier so dazzling it looked as if it belonged in the middle of a Neiman Marcus flagship store.
The voices grew louder. Over the murmur of conversation, Cutter picked out the teasing note of Logan Edgington telling his brother to go fuck himself. Hunter gave a hearty laugh. A moment later, he heard Lily Sutter’s polite, high-pitched thanks for a fresh bottle of water. Mitchell Thorpe told the girl she was welcome. He had a smile in his voice when he called her Sweet Pea.
They rounded the corner, and Cutter paused in the wide arch of the entry. Thank goodness the kitchen was massive. There had to be thirty people in here, drinks in hand. Happiness brimmed. Cutter spotted Jolie, who stood beside Heath, holding his hand. Karis relayed something that made them all smile.
“Drink?” Callie asked, playing the good hostess.
“I’ll take a beer, if you’ve got one.”
She pranced past a wall of tall white cabinets, to a floor-to-ceiling
Sub-Zero refrigerator, and pulled open the door. “Stella, Blue Moon, Heineken, Shiner Bock, Coors, Bud, Miller Lite, Corona . . .”
“Whatever’s easiest to grab. I’m not picky.”
When she turned back, she popped off the cap and planted an ice-cold Stella in his hand. “Glass?”
He shook his head. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“No, thank you. You helped Heath keep safe the woman who’s like a sister to me, so if I can do anything to make you happy or comfortable, just let me know.”
Was she really lauding him for getting whacked unconscious in the bathroom at Betti? “I was just doing my job. I wish I’d done it better.”
“Without you, Jolie and Karis might not be here today. You’re brave. The Edgington brothers say you can be damn funny. And my husband thinks the world of you. That makes you as good as family in my book.” Callie hugged him.
Slowly, he embraced the woman. Two minutes ago he’d been feeling deeply out of place. With a few words, she’d made him one of the gang. Usually he preferred to be alone. Now, he liked the crowd, was warming to the sense of belonging.
“You’re very gracious. The Edgington brothers are not only bosses but friends. And I owe your husband a debt of gratitude for giving me a chance.”
She smiled. “Mingle. Eat, drink, and be merry. If you, um . . . ever want to talk about what happened with your ‘plus one,’ I’m a willing ear. I might even know a thing or two about complicated relationships.”
Bless her, but Cutter couldn’t think of anything he wanted to talk about less than the clusterfuck of his love life.
Before he could form a gentle excuse, Mitchell Thorpe sidled up and planted a kiss on his submissive’s temple, then reached out to shake his hand. “Cutter, good to see you.”
“You, too. Thanks for the invite, man.”
“Our pleasure. Let me introduce you to anyone you haven’t met.”
That would take a while. He didn’t know most of the room.
Beer in hand, Thorpe led him over to a stunning redhead.
“Hi. I’m Morgan Cole.” Her blue eyes sparkled as she looked across the room on tiptoes. “I belong to the big, bad Cajun, Jack.”
Cutter had met the man once or twice and agreed with his wife’s assessment. “And you live in Lafayette?”
“Yeah. I think you’re only a couple of miles from us.” She gave him a big smile. “Hey, if you like kids, I’m always looking for a qualified babysitter. Our son, Brice, is an adorable terror who will grow up to be just like his father. And our daughter—”
“Lacey is a lovely baby with her mama’s hair,” Thorpe cut in.
“And her daddy’s temper.” Morgan laughed. “But she’s precious.”
“Absolutely.” Thorpe gave her a fond grin.
Cutter had never pictured the dungeon owner as the type who liked kids, but he guessed that having a son could have changed the man’s outlook.
“I’m afraid I know more about handguns than kids, ma’am,” he told Morgan.
“Oh, god. Ma’am is my mother. I’m not old enough for that. Call me Morgan or I’ll have my husband call you something hideous in French. But it will sound beautiful. Don’t worry.”
Cutter couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe coming here really had been a good idea. Beat the shit out of being alone and wishing he hadn’t fucked everything up.
Just then, Jack Cole sidled up and shook his hand. “Hey there. Good to see you.”
“You, too.”
“How did a smart man like you end up working for my dumbass competitors?” Jack teased.
Cutter had to smile. “They were smart enough to hire me first.”
Everyone laughed.
“Touché,” Jack shot back. “If you ever change your mind—”
“We’ve got him under contract, asshole,” Hunter Edgington butted in, holding his wife’s hand. “You’re a day late and a dollar short.”
“I’m sure you’re doing just fine without me,” Cutter drawled to Jack.
“Well, there seems to be enough business to go around.”
“And then some. Not sure if that’s a good thing . . .” Hunter shook his head, then turned to Cutter. “I don’t think you’ve officially met my other half. Kata, this is Cutter Bryant.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice to finally meet you,” the gorgeous Latina with curves for days said.
“You, too.”
“Hey, we’re having a New Year’s party at our house, and you’re officially invited.”
“Are you going to suggest I babysit, too?” he poked at Morgan.
“Hell no. Despite being a baby, I can already tell that our son, Phoenix, is going to be a man’s man. Between his father and his uncles, he doesn’t need more male influence. Besides, I’m going to do what Callie did for this party and hire a couple of babysitters. It’s great having the kids upstairs so we can pop up and check on them while enjoying the evening.”
Cutter figured spending New Year’s with this crowd would suck way less than spending it alone with his regrets. Besides, this bunch made him smile for the first time in weeks. “I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll have Hunter give you the details.” Kata turned to Jack. “And you’re bringing that awesome gumbo, right? Please . . .”
“Happy to.” Jack nodded her way. “Morgan’s brother Brandon, his wife Emberlin, and their beautiful bundle of joy who is probably being born right about”—he glanced at his watch—“now will be visiting from Houston, so they’ll probably be with us. Is that all right?”
“The more the merrier!” Kata assured.
“Cutter!” A hand slapped his back, and he turned to see Hunter’s brother, Logan.
“Hey.” A new smile stretched across Cutter’s face.
“You doing all right?” The man looked concerned.
Tonight, Cutter wanted to forget everything weighing him down. Resisting the urge to rub at his neck, he nodded Logan’s way. Why the fuck had he gotten drunk last week and spilled his shit? “Fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Logan said just loud enough for Cutter to hear. “See that pretty redhead over there?” He motioned to a petite beauty with eyes only for her husband. “I pined for that one for an eternity before I got smart enough to marry her. Maybe you should do the same.”
It would be a cold day in hell.
Logan’s wife joined them. “Hi. You must be Cutter. Tara Edgington.”
“Happy to meet you.” He bit back the urge to call her ma’am. He doubted she would like it any better than Morgan, but it was hard to cast off his Texas upbringing.
“Did you check on the twins?” Logan asked his wife.
“Mandy is asleep. Macy, predictably, is causing trouble.” She shook her head ruefully. “She’s trying to keep up with Luc and Alyssa’s little one.”
“Those two are going to be running buddies, aren’t they?” Logan shook his head as if that possibility was something to fear.
A drop-dead gorgeous blonde in wicked heels and a dress designed for seduction strolled up with a grin. “I’ll just apologize now. Chloe was born a troublemaker, and it’s bound to rub off.”
“I blame you,” teased a man with inky hair and laughing dark eyes who wrapped his arm around the blonde.
Cutter frowned. The guy looked familiar, but he couldn’t place the man.
Thorpe jumped in. “Do you know Luc and Alyssa Traverson?”
“I don’t believe I do.” Cutter held out his hand at Luc. “But I recognize you. You’re a famous chef, right?”
“TV strikes again.” He laughed. “Do you cook?”