Epilogue
BOONE GRABBED RADLEY’S hand, tugging her toward Holt’s house on Sunday afternoon.
The past week had been a whirlwind, culminating with the thwarted terror plot in L.A.
a few days ago and Seattle early Saturday morning, handled by their teammates.
Boone and Radley had flown back from L.A.
last night, and he was more than happy to sleep in his own bed.
Well, not exactly his own bed. Boone had taken to staying at Radley’s each night.
Though it had been less than a month since they’d met, he also knew it was right.
They both did.
For two people who’d previously had no intention of being in a relationship, they’d both fallen—hard.
It was wild to fathom that she hadn’t even been in his life until recently.
Things were comfortable with her. Familiar, yet right.
Their personalities simply clicked, and the chemistry they had, both in and out of the bedroom?
It was explosive enough for him to thank his lucky stars he’d found this woman.
“Think anyone will notice we’re late?” she asked, flashing him an innocent look.
Boone smirked. Although they were both usually early risers, they’d been happy to sleep in and spend the morning in bed.
Boone had taken her slow and sweet, both of them drowsy with sleep and lost in one another.
After round one, he’d flipped her over, taking her from behind until she was pleading and begging for release.
He’d reached around, strumming her clit while he thrust into her slick pussy, and she’d finally screamed into the pillow, coming apart once more.
“I think everyone will notice, kitten. But after the week we’ve had? Not a single person will care.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across it.
“Get a room, lovebirds!” Xaden razzed as they walked into Holt’s expansive home.
“I was in a hotel room with them,” Gage joked. “We had a tango pinned to the ground, a crying hostage, and Boone was still all googly eyed for Radley.”
Boone’s gaze slid toward his buddy. “Can you blame me?”
“He’s lucky he found me,” Radley joked.
“Damn lucky,” Boone agreed, and he kissed her right there in front of his teammates, not caring in the least that they saw how far gone he was for this woman. “You’re mine,” he murmured huskily into her ear when they finally came up for air, the rest of the guys whooping and hollering around them.
She turned her head toward him, a sly smile on her face. “And you’re mine, soldier.”
He kissed her again, slow and sweet, then took her hand as they moved further into the home.
“How are you feeling?” Holt asked as he walked over to say hello.
“Good,” Radley said. “It was terrifying at the time, but I’m thankful Boone found me so quickly.”
Holt nodded, giving both of them his thanks for thwarting the L.A. terror plot.
Two more guests arrived at Holt’s home, and Boone noted that it was the military servicemember and his sister—the woman they’d rescued.
“I just wanted to thank everyone in person,” the young woman said, looking around the group. “I wouldn’t be here without any of you. I don’t know how you found me but am so grateful that you did.”
Holt had his arms crossed, looking slightly intimidating, but the other men had relaxed poses. Her brother stood protectively at her side, and Boone hoped he hadn’t gotten into too much trouble with his superior officers for going onto the dark web to connect with the homegrown terror cell.
“Fortunately, we found your notes,” Knox told her. “Both of them. We knew someone was being held against their will by the terror cell.”
The woman looked toward him, eyes wrinkling in confusion. “Both notes?”
“The first was written in sawdust at the cabin,” Knox patiently explained. “We discovered the second on one of the crates when we intercepted the vehicle in Seattle. They both said help.”
“But I—I didn’t leave two notes.” Her voice trembled as she exchanged a glance with her brother. “I was watched all the time,” she continued. “I wrote a note in the sawdust by the window, but there’s no way I could’ve accessed any crates to leave a message there.”
Boone’s head swiveled toward Radley. “If she didn’t leave both notes, then who the hell left that other message?”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Knox said, frowning. “There was definitely the word help written on the crate we discovered.”
Just then, Holt’s phone began vibrating. He pulled it from his pocket, frowning. “Holt here. What? Yeah. Affirmative. Yeah. God damn it!” His gaze swept over the group, landing on Knox specifically.
“That was someone from IT. Quinn is missing.”
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR reading Boone and Radley’s story!