Guarding What’s Mine (Men of Maddox Security #3)

Bonus Epilogue

Aubree

It’s nearly ten o’clock at night, and I’m still at Slice Slice Baby. I don’t usually linger this long, but we had a huge catering order for a graduation party this afternoon, and the kitchen is a disaster—flour footprints from the prep station to the walk-in, half-empty cans of tomatoes stacked by the sink, sauce splattered on the steel counters. My staff all went home hours ago. I insisted, actually; they worked hard, and I felt like I had enough energy to tidy up alone. Of course, that was before I realized how late it would be when I finished.

The overhead lights are on half-power, casting a warm glow across the empty dining area. I take a moment to enjoy the hush. During the day, this place bustles with customers—teens after school, families grabbing a quick bite, even the occasional traveling musician. It’s my pride and joy, my life’s work. But right now, it’s a quiet sanctuary where I can count the squeaks of my sneakers on tile.

I mop the last sticky patch near the counter, leaning on the handle and blowing a stray curl from my forehead. “Done,” I announce to the empty shop. My voice echoes off the walls. I smile wryly—Boone would tease me for talking to myself again.

Boone. Just thinking his name warms my chest. It’s been a while since he joined me in Nashville with Maddox Security’s new branch, but sometimes I still can’t believe we share a life here—no more living in fear, no more kidnappings or dangerous secrets. We’re truly free to be together, and it feels surreal.

I shake my head, swallowing a grin as I roll the mop bucket toward the kitchen. The big overhead clock reads 10:08. He usually checks in if I’m staying late to make sure I’m safe or he begs me to lock up early. But he hasn’t called tonight, which is odd. Maybe he’s tied up with a mission briefing or coordinating something for Dean. He’s got a million responsibilities as the head of the new Nashville office. Still, the silence makes me a little uneasy.

As if on cue, a sudden noise rattles from the back hallway—like a metal pan crashing to the floor. My heart leaps. I freeze, gripping the mop handle tight enough to whiten my knuckles. It’s probably just something shifting on a shelf… But the memory of being ambushed, months ago, still lingers in my bones.

I set the mop down, forcing calm. “It’s nothing,” I murmur, though my pulse hammers. Another faint sound—like shuffling footsteps—sends a chill through me. Immediately, I pull out my phone.

Scrolling to Boone’s number, I think, Better safe than sorry.

“Aubree? Pull yourself together,” I whisper to myself. Even though I’m armed with new self-defense moves Boone taught me, my heart still spikes with adrenaline whenever I’m startled like this. Just check it out, or call him.

My thumb hovers over the Call button. But before I can press it, the swinging kitchen door pushes open. I jump, nearly dropping the phone.

“Surprise!” a chorus of voices booms from the shadows—voices I recognize. My heart practically catapults out of my chest as the overhead lights flick on to full brightness.

Standing there, half-hidden by the door, is Boone—grinning from ear to ear, a cupcake with a lit candle in his hand. And behind him is a crowd of familiar faces: Ranger with his arm around Tory, Orion with Briar on his left, Dean and Sophia, Asher and Lincoln, Dean’s sister Isabella, and a handful of other dear friends. My mother is among them, holding a box of decorations, her eyes shining.

“Happy birthday, Aubree!” Boone exclaims, stepping forward, candle flickering dangerously close to his short hair. He quickly sets it down on the nearest table.

I stare, mouth agape. My pulse is still thrashing from the scare, and now it’s thrashing for a completely different reason—shock, delight, absolute disbelief. “You guys… oh my gosh,” I manage, pressing a hand to my chest. “You scared me half to death!”

My mother crosses the tile in a few quick strides, wrapping me in a warm hug. “We’re sorry, darling,” she says, laughing. “But we had to catch you off-guard. It was Boone’s idea.”

Boone slides the cupcake away so he doesn’t accidentally burn something, then shrugs, all sheepish. “Guilty.” But his eyes dance with mischief. “I had to make sure you couldn’t suspect a thing. Hence the silence all day.”

I let out a breathless laugh. “I was about to call you—thought someone broke in! You’re lucky I didn’t throw a rolling pin at your head.”

He grabs the cupcake, holding it out to me. “Make a wish.” He smirks. “And no wishing to hit me with the rolling pin.”

I laugh, and then close my eyes. I’ve got everything I could ever wish for, so I blow out the candle, wishing for more precious moments like this. “Thank you.”

Dean steps forward, Sophia by his side, both looking very pleased with themselves. “We cleared the idea with your mom,” Dean explains, slipping an arm around Sophia’s waist. “Figured you’d be alone this evening.”

Sophia, radiant as ever, nods in agreement. “Besides, we can’t let your birthday slide by without a fuss. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve a real celebration.”

A wave of gratitude and affection floods me. These people—my family, my friends, the security crew—are all here for me. I blink back tears, though I can’t wipe the huge grin from my face. A surprise birthday party, I think, shaking my head in wonder. “You guys are incredible.”

Ranger, his dark hair tousled, smirks. “Yeah, yeah. Enough with the sentiment. Let’s get some pizza going.” He pats Tory’s shoulder, who flashes me a bright smile. “Tory’s been dying to learn your technique.”

I laugh, feeling the tension drain from my body. “Sure, absolutely. Let’s… do you all want to make your own?” My voice brims with excitement. Pizza-making party, it’s a concept so close to my heart. I always loved the communal energy of kneading dough and sprinkling toppings with friends.

“Yes, please,” Orion chimes in, flicking a playful glance at his girlfriend, Briar. She’s tall, with a long brown hair that flows halfway down her back. “Briar claims she can out-pizza me. We’ll see.”

Briar snorts, elbowing him. “Even Jeb can out pizza you, buddy.” Yes. her African-gray parrot, Jeb. He’s a real character.

Smiling ear to ear, I gesture them all toward the back, where the big dough mixer and giant prep tables stand. “Let’s do it! I’ll show you how to knead the dough, shape it, top it. That is, if you’re all prepared to get flour everywhere.”

“We’ve been warned,” Garrett says. He looks slightly more relaxed than usual—back when he first joined Maddox Security Nashville Team, he was always so serious. Now he’s letting Thor talk his ear off about some new training regimen.

Dean laughs, pressing a quick kiss to Sophia’s temple. “We brought wine, by the way. Not sure if it pairs with pizza, but we’ll make do.”

Boone’s eyes meet mine as everyone filters into the kitchen, the tension in my chest replaced by a warm, giddy feeling. I mouth thank you to him. He winks, trailing his fingers down my arm lightly—a simple touch that sends a thrill through me.

Soon, the back kitchen buzzes with chatter and laughter. We set out bowls of shredded cheese, sauces—marinara, Alfredo, even a pesto option—plus an array of toppings: pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, onions, bell peppers, olives, pineapple for the brave. My mother helps me measure out lumps of dough so everyone can start shaping their own pies.

“Okay,” I say, voice raised to be heard over everything. “First step: flatten the dough into a disc. You can use your hands or a rolling pin. Don’t be shy with the flour.”

Tory, wearing an oversized apron, watches me with wide eyes. “Wait, I do this ?” She tries to press the dough with her palms and nearly sticks it to the table. “Oh no, it’s all sticky!”

Ranger laughs. “You’re just not used to getting your hands dirty, Princess.” She swats him with a flour-dusted hand, leaving a white print on his black T-shirt. He yelps, and we all laugh.

Next to them, Orion and Briar engage in a playful dough-throwing war. Briar flicks a pinch of flour at Orion, and he retaliates by tapping her nose with a sauce-dipped finger. “Hey, no fair!” she protests, though her laughter undercuts any real complaint.

Dean and Sophia, more subdued in their mischief, share a single piece of dough, shaping it together. Every so often, I see them pause to whisper or exchange a soft kiss. They look so content—married life suits them perfectly.

Garrett and Thor stand at the far side of the table, quietly following my steps, though Thor occasionally cracks a joke that makes Garrett roll his eyes. They’re an interesting duo—both laser-focused when they want to be, but also comfortable enough to banter.

Isabella, Dean’s sister, edges closer to me with a conspiratorial grin. “I’ve always wanted to know your secret sauce recipe. Dean raves about it.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Isabella’s come a long way since we first met—she used to be so guarded, but now she’s blossomed in her own right.

I wave a sauce-stained wooden spoon. “Oh, that’s top secret. But maybe, if you’re nice, I’ll let you watch me make it next time.”

She laughs. “Deal. Just let me handle a ladle or something.”

Boone stands near the dough mixer, arms folded, grinning like a proud conspirator. It’s obvious he’s enjoying this scene—everyone he cares about, all in one place, celebrating my birthday in the simplest, most meaningful way: making pizza.

At one point, my mother sidles up to me, eyes sparkling. She sets down a wine bottle on the metal counter. “I think it’s time we pop one of these open, don’t you?”

I glance at the label—some fancy red blend. “Ooh, yes. Let’s see if it pairs with mozzarella.”

She chuckles, rummaging in a drawer for a corkscrew. “I had no idea that boy was planning such a big surprise,” she muses. “But he’s obviously gone to great lengths to gather everyone.”

A wave of affection sweeps through me. “He’s wonderful,” I say softly, watching Boone lean over to help Tory flip her dough without wrecking it. “I never thought I’d find someone so… committed and sweet and protective, all at once.”

My mother smiles, patting my arm. “You deserve it, darling. And he deserves you.”

I help her open the wine, and soon enough, glasses are distributed. People sip, some swirl, others just dive in. The kitchen warms with laughter. The entire vibe is joyous, safe, and fun—completely different from the tension we all knew when Charles and Earl were looming threats.

It doesn’t take long for the pizzas to start emerging from the ovens, each one unique: some with extra pepperoni, some loaded with veggies, one with pineapple that Garrett rolls his eyes at. We set them on cooling racks, the air filling with the mouthwatering aroma of fresh dough, garlic, basil, melted cheese.

Ranger proclaims, “We’ve officially discovered the best way to celebrate a birthday. Screw cake, pizza is where it’s at.”

Tory bumps his hip. “We can have dessert pizza, too, you know?”

I grin. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve got a Nutella and strawberry recipe that’ll blow your mind.”

Boone, a glass of wine in hand, sidles up behind me, slipping an arm around my waist. “You realize the second you mention dessert pizza, these animals will never leave,” he teases, jerking his chin toward the group, who have already devoured half the first pizza.

“Well, that’s the point,” I reply, leaning into him. “If I never let them leave, this party never ends.”

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. The simple gesture makes my pulse flutter. “Happy birthday, Brie-cheese,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against my ear.

I groan, burying my face in Boone’s chest. He laughs, gently prying me away to address the group. “Aubree’s old nickname from high school was Brie-cheese. As in the cheese.”

Immediately, my mother giggles. “Yes, well, my daughter was obsessed with cheese on everything when she was younger, so a few friends started calling her that.”

Orion nearly chokes on his wine. “Oh, this is golden.” He raps a fist on the table. “Brie-cheese, indeed. She’s the pizza queen, it all comes full circle.”

Briar, eyes shining with amusement, points a tomato slice at me. “So, do we all get to call you Brie-cheese now?”

I shoot a mock glare at Boone. “No. Absolutely not.”

But Dean just laughs. “Too late, Brie-cheese.”

I throw my hands up in mock despair as everyone breaks into giggles or smirks. Boone slips an arm around me again, nuzzling my temple. “Sorry,” he mouths, though he looks anything but apologetic.

“Traitor,” I mouth back, but my grin betrays me. I can’t stay mad at that face.

Once we’ve all had our fill of pizza—at least four or five pies demolished—someone finds a stereo in the front, and soon soft music floats through the shop. We gather around the dining area, which Dean and Sophia have festooned with colorful streamers. My mother has a small cake, too, because apparently you can’t have a birthday without at least a slice of something sweet. She sets a single candle on it—like a nod to tradition. Everyone gathers, softly singing “Happy Birthday” as I blow out the candle, cheeks burning at all the attention.

Ranger’s girlfriend, Tory, compliments me on the “best birthday idea ever,” and I remind her, “It wasn’t my idea, but I’ll take credit anyway.”

We pop open another bottle of wine, and the conversation flows. We talk about everything: how Orion and Briar are thinking of adopting a rescue dog, how Garrett is toying with the idea of going undercover in a big upcoming job, how Thor has decided to coach a kids’ soccer team in his off hours, how Isabella is busily helping grow the Maddox Security teams. Dean and Sophia recount a hilarious story about the time they had to fake-marriage themselves into a mission, which sends everyone into peals of laughter. It’s amazing how many inside jokes and stories we’ve all accumulated in such a short time.

Eventually, the shop quiets a little. Some of the group starts drifting toward the front, gathering their coats and leftover slices. It’s nearing midnight, and even this crowd has limits. My mother winks at me, saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow, honey. I’ll leave you with your friends.” She hugs me tight, whispering, “Happy birthday, dear,” before stepping out.

Ranger and Tory are next to leave, followed by Orion and Briar, who promise to text us about that rescue dog. Dean and Sophia stick around for a bit, helping me and Boone gather empty cups and plates, while Garrett and Thor engage in a quiet debate about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. (They never settle it, obviously.)

Finally, with the place mostly tidied and the leftover wine corked, Dean and Sophia wave goodbye. Garrett and Thor leave with Isabella—someone mentions going out for a late-night coffee. In a matter of minutes, the shop returns to silence, lit only by the overhead lights and a few decorative strings of white bulbs around the windows. The clock reads nearly one in the morning now.

I let out a contented sigh, leaning against a booth seat. Boone steps toward me, his eyes bright with affection and maybe a hint of mischief. “You okay, Bree?”

“I’m fine, Boone.” My voice softens. “Thank you for… everything. For the surprise, for getting all our friends together. For making today so special.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch sending shivers down my spine. “You deserve it. It’s your first birthday in a long time where you’re not looking over your shoulder.”

I swallow, remembering the terror of the past—kidnappings, threats, heartbreak. Now, it’s replaced by laughter and pizza. “I never thought I’d be so… happy,” I admit, voice trembling with emotion. “It almost feels unreal.”

Boone steps closer, warm hands resting on my hips. “It’s real,” he murmurs, voice low. “We made it real. You and me.”

Our gazes lock, and I see the reflection of the overhead lights dancing in his dark eyes. My heart clenches with a fierce love I can hardly put into words. I slip my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I love you,” I whisper, the words tasting sweet and certain on my lips.

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I love you, too. You have no idea how much.”

Then he dips his head, capturing my mouth in a tender, lingering kiss. I melt against him, my body warming under his touch, my mind swimming with the sensation of his lips exploring mine. There’s no fear, no tension—just pure contentment and a slow-burning passion.

I tighten my grip around his neck, leaning up on my toes as the kiss deepens. His hands press firmly into my lower back, pulling me flush against him. The low hum of the fridge motors fades away, replaced by the pounding of my heart and the soft sound of our ragged breathing.

Breaking apart, I rest my forehead against his, our chests rising and falling in sync. “Where’d you learn to kiss like that, tough guy?” I tease breathlessly.

He laughs softly, brushing his nose against mine. “Must’ve been that extra cheese you keep shoveling into my dinners. Gave me power.”

I roll my eyes again, but I’m smiling so hard it hurts. He nudges my chin, kissing me lightly again, and I can’t resist letting out a giddy sigh.

We stand there for a moment, wrapped in each other, until the overhead lights flicker—an automated timer set to nighttime mode, reminding us it’s after hours. “Guess we better lock up,” I murmur, stepping back to glance around the shop. The tables are tidy, the leftover decorations drifting in a half-deflated balloon pinned to the corner. The faint smell of tomato sauce and melted cheese still lingers. It’s comforting, homey.

Boone nods, hands slipping from my waist reluctantly. “Let’s do that. Then we can head back to the cabin. I’ve got one more surprise for you.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Another surprise? You’re relentless.”

He just grins, grabbing the keys from the counter. “A man’s gotta keep his girlfriend guessing, right?”

My heart flutters. I can’t believe this is my life: teased and treasured by the man who once rescued me and took me to a cabin in the woods. Now we share that cabin as our home, building a future that grows more certain each day.

I step into the cool night air, turning to lock the glass door behind us. Boone stands at my shoulder, scanning the quiet street. Ever the protector. Once I’m done, he guides me gently by the elbow to his truck, parked by the curb, and opens the passenger door for me. I climb in, tucking my hair behind my ears, the afterglow of the party still making my cheeks warm.

As he slips into the driver’s seat, I ask softly, “Can you at least give me a hint about this last surprise?”

He glances my way, the overhead dome light illuminating a playful glint in his eyes. “Well… it involves a certain leftover Nutella and strawberry sauce we forgot to use tonight.”

A laugh bubbles out of me. “That’s not a surprise, that’s just dessert.”

He leans over, pressing a quick, mischievous kiss to my lips. “Trust me, Bree, it’s gonna be sweet.”

I can’t help but grin as he starts the engine. The truck rumbles to life, headlights slicing through the darkness. We pull away from Slice Slice Baby, the neon sign flickering behind us. My chest feels full, brimming with gratitude for my friends, my mother, the new life we’ve carved out in Nashville—and, most of all, for Boone.

As we drive, I let my hand rest on his thigh, a silent thanks. We talk in hushed tones about the night’s events; Orion’s flour fight, Ranger’s sauce mishap, my mother’s quiet laughter as she watched it all unfold.

Eventually, the city lights fade, giving way to the moonlit pines that line the road to our cabin. Boone turns off the main highway onto the gravel path, and I roll down the window, inhaling the crisp forest air. It’s such a different world from the day we first found ourselves holed up in a cabin, me terrified for my life. Now, it’s a place of safety and love.

When we finally arrive, Boone parks, cuts the engine, and we sit for a beat in the hush of the wilderness.

“Give me a minute or two to set up,” Boone says, kissing my hand before hopping out of the truck.

I follow him to the front porch and wait while he rushes inside. I hear the distant hoot of an owl, and my heart aches with contentment.

Boone opens the front door, reappearing by my side with a big smile, and it nearly takes my breath away. He takes my hand and leads me inside. The cabin interior is cozy, lit by a single lamp in the corner. I notice the coffee table is cleared, replaced by a soft blanket spread across it, and on top sits a small tray of the leftover Nutella sauce and a container of fresh strawberries. I laugh softly, turning to Boone. “So, this is your big plan? Dessert after the big pizza party?”

He smirks, shrugging off his jacket. “Hey, you said you love sweet pizza combos.”

I watch as he dips a strawberry into the Nutella and offers it to me. My breath hitches, and I lean forward, taking a bite. The taste is divine—rich chocolate, ripe berry. But the real sweetness is the way he’s looking at me, eyes full of adoration.

We feed each other a few more strawberries, giggling when a drop of chocolate lands on his finger. I wipe it off with my thumb, and he catches my wrist, guiding my hand to his mouth so he can kiss my fingertips. The moment thickens with an undeniable tension.

He sets the tray aside and pulls me gently into his arms. “Happy birthday,” he murmurs, voice husky. “I hope it was everything you wanted.”

I lay my hands on his broad chest, feeling his heartbeat steady under my palms. “It was perfect,” I whisper. “But you made it that way.”

He slides a hand into my hair, tilting my head so our eyes meet. “I’d do anything to see you smile like that—like you’re free of every worry. That’s all I want.”

Emotion clogs my throat. I close the distance, pressing my lips to his in a slow, deep kiss that conveys all the gratitude and love I can’t put into words. He returns it just as fervently, arms circling my waist, drawing me flush against him. A soft sound escapes my throat as his mouth moves with mine, tasting of chocolate and strawberry and promise.

Time stretches, and the only things that matter are his lips, his warmth, the quiet hush of the cabin that envelops us. His hands roam my back, and I thread my fingers into his hair, losing myself in the closeness. We break away only to catch our breath, foreheads touching.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, voice trembling with devotion. “And I’m yours.”

I grin through the tears threatening to spill, nodding. “Forever,” I say, letting the word settle between us like a vow.

He eases me down onto the plush blanket, the Nutella tray forgotten on the table. Our kisses grow languid, a heady mix of passion and tenderness. The entire day—the surprise party, the laughter, the silly teasing about my nickname—culminates in this moment, where everything is right in the world.

Eventually, we drift into a slower pace, curling against each other, legs tangled, hearts beating in unison. He tucks me under his chin, stroking my hair. The lamp’s glow casts dancing shadows across the cabin walls, and I wonder if life can get any better than this.

In that stillness, he leans down to whisper against my ear. “Thank you for letting me love you, Bree.”

I smile, shifting so I can look into his eyes. “Thank you for loving me enough,” I say softly, then my voice softens. “Boone, this is everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m so happy. I feel safe. And I just… I can’t wait to see where we go from here.”

He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “Wherever we go, we go together.”

I snuggle closer, letting my eyes slip shut. The gentle thump of his heart lulls me, reminding me how far we’ve come—through danger, betrayal, heartbreak—and how we emerged stronger, building a life so filled with warmth and joy that my heart could burst.

Outside, the wind rustles the pine trees, and somewhere, an owl hoots softly. But within these walls, all is still, and I’m home. Wrapped in the arms of the man I love, stomach full of pizza, head full of laughter, and a future that glows as brightly as the stars. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.

I lift my head for one final kiss, a soft brush of lips that seals this perfect night. “I love you,” I whisper again. It never gets old, speaking those words.

Boone smiles, eyes shining. “I love you, too, Aubree.”

We settle back into each other’s arms, letting the night envelop us. And in the quiet hush of our cabin, I realize that this—this shared joy, this unwavering trust, this simple, everyday magic—is my happily ever after.

Thank you for reading Boone and Aubree. Keep reading for the first chapter of Taking What’s Mine, Book #4 in the Men of Maddox Security Series.