Epilogue
FALLON
"You guys almost done?" I ask, walking into the nursery.
I freeze in the doorway, my breath catching.
Kade's bent over the crib, his large hands—hands I've seen throw punches that shattered bone—moving with infinite care as he settles the new mattress into place.
There's something about watching him like this, preparing for our baby with the same intensity he brings to everything else, that makes my throat tight with emotion.
The guys came by today to help us move into the new cabin.
When we first got together, I'd felt completely at home in their home.
But Kade wanted us to have privacy. With the baby coming, a space that was ours made sense.
When he found this place tucked into the woods not far from where his brothers live, I fell in love instantly with the wrap-around porch and the way morning light filters through the pine trees.
We bought all the furniture together. Every piece chosen side by side—the leather couch he picked because he said it would be easy to clean when the baby throws up on it, the kitchen table I chose because I could already picture family dinners around it.
Most of it was delivered today, already assembled, so the guys didn't have much heavy lifting to do.
But I asked them to put the crib together while they were here. Wanted Kade's brothers to be part of this too.
And now, watching Kade step back to inspect his work, I realize how perfect it all is.
"Just finished," he says, turning to me with that slight smile that still makes my heart skip. He crosses the room and places his hand on my belly—that possessive touch I've learned means mine, protected, loved all at once. "Do you like it?"
"I love it." I let my gaze sweep the room we've spent weeks planning together.
Pale yellow walls because we don't want to know if we're having a boy or girl yet.
White furniture that looks clean and fresh and full of possibility.
The crib positioned perfectly by the window where morning sun will warm our baby's face. "This feels so real now."
"All you need to do is decorate," Kade says, his thumb tracing circles on my stomach through the fabric of my shirt. "And I'll help you with it."
I place my hand over his, still resting protectively over our child, and rise up on my toes to kiss his cheek. The scruff there scratches against my lips—rough and familiar and Kade.
"Hey, I helped too." Ash's voice comes from the doorway, and I turn to find him leaning against the frame with that trademark grin. "Where's my kiss?"
I can't help but laugh. The sound fills the nursery—light and easy in a way I never thought I'd feel again.
Kade scowls, his jaw tightening. "Watch it."
"I'm paying you guys in food," I remind them, already heading toward the kitchen where I've been cooking all afternoon while they worked. "I have it all ready for you to take home. I wish we could have dinner together tonight, but next weekend we can. I'll cook again."
"Even better," Beck calls from somewhere down the hall, probably admiring his reflection in one of the mirrors we hung. "Two meals. You're spoiling us, Fallon."
"I'll take that deal any day," Ty adds as we all converge in the kitchen. He lets me call him Ty now instead of Havoc. Apparently I'm the only one besides his brothers who gets that privilege, which secretly makes me feel like I've been accepted into something sacred.
"So you guys have that dinner with Grace and Damián tonight?" Beck asks, leaning against the counter as I start loading him down with containers.
"Yeah," I confirm, stacking garlic bread on top of the baked ziti.
"Who all's going to be there?" Ash wants to know, already eyeing the brownies.
"Not sure exactly," Kade says from behind me, his presence a steady warmth at my back. "It's kind of a family dinner for them, so I guess all of the Lázaros. And us. And Dad."
"Yeah, I think so," I add.
"So is Elías going to be there?" The question comes from Ash, casual enough, but I feel Kade tense behind me.
His jaw ticks. That tell I know so well now.
"Probably," I say carefully, turning to look at my boyfriend. "It's fine, baby. I'm over it. He did what he did to protect everyone, even if the way he went about it was completely fucked up."
"Well, I'm not over it." Kade's voice drops to something cold and dangerous—the tone that makes grown men take a step back. "And I won't ever be. I swear, if he wasn't Damián's brother, I would—"
"Shhh." I cut him off, pressing my finger to his lips. Then I point deliberately to my belly.
He takes a breath. I watch him rein it in, that rage he carries for anyone who's ever hurt me getting locked back down behind discipline and control.
"Come on," I say softly. "We need to get ready." I turn back to loading the guys down with enough food to feed them for days. All the comfort food I know they love because cooking for people is how I show I care. "Here, take these before they get cold."
All the guys hug me as they prepare to leave. I kiss Ash on the cheek because he's become like the annoying little brother I never had but somehow always wanted.
"Aww, Peaches." His grin goes wide and genuine. "You're the best."
Kade's hand connects with the back of his head in a controlled smack.
"Ow! Jesus, I'm just playing, bro. Chill." Ash rubs his head but he's still grinning, the troublemaker. Then he winks at me.
I can't help but laugh again. "Alright, see you guys next weekend for dinner. Text me what you want and I'll make it."
They file out, already arguing good-naturedly about meal options before they even reach the truck they brought to help with the move. Their voices carry back through the open door—easy brotherhood and the kind of family I used to only read about in books.
"I love them," I say when Kade shuts the front door, sealing us into the quiet of our new home.
"Peaches," he growls, and there's real irritation in it.
I laugh, light and free. "You know I mean like brothers. Not the way I love you."
"Better not." He stalks toward me with predatory intent. "Because I don't want to have to kill them."
"Oh god, Kade. You're ridiculous." But I'm smiling as I walk away toward our bedroom to get dressed for dinner at the Lázaro family restaurant where apparently tonight's gathering will be equal parts celebration and potential bloodshed.
Kade's right on my heels, exactly where he always is.
Exactly where I need him to be.
Half an hour later, I'm putting the finishing touches on my makeup—which is very light these days since I'm not covering bruises anymore.
After Daniel's "disappearance," I had to talk to the cops some. But apparently the detective over his case is in Walker's pocket. I don't know what kind of pull that man has, but I'm grateful. After about a month, everything cooled off. I started staying at Kade's every night. Pretty much moved in.
And now we have a place of our own. I'm going through the drawn-out process of getting a divorce, which hasn't been easy. But it's almost over.
I walk into the bedroom in my black dress and flats—heels hurt too much right now. Kade's sitting on the bed reading something on his phone but looks up when I enter.
"You ready?" I ask.
"Almost." He holds his hand out for me.
I walk over. He places his hand and head on my belly. I slide my hand into his hair—it's so soft, longer now than when I first met him.
"Are you going to behave tonight?" I ask, because I am worried about him and Elías. They haven't been in the same room since the day I met Elías and told Kade he's the guy who got into my car and told me to stay away.
He exhales. Then his hands go to my ass and make their way down my thighs.
"I'll be good if you will," he says as his hands find their way under my dress and start going up my thighs.
"We're going to be late," I say, but I'm a little breathless. This pregnancy is making me horny as fuck. Twenty-four seven.
His fingers trace the edge of my panties.
"Five minutes," he murmurs against my belly. "That's all I need."
"We're already late," Kade murmurs, his lips trailing kisses across the fabric of my dress—the black one that he picked out this morning.
His fingers find the edge of my underwear, hooking them with ease, pulling down so slowly I feel each millimeter of silk sliding against my thighs. "Five more minutes won't matter."
"Kade," I protest, but the word comes out breathless and unconvincing even to my own ears.
My body betrays me immediately—legs spreading slightly, hips tilting forward, giving him better access despite every logical thought screaming that we need to leave now.
Damn these hormones that have made me insatiable.
Damn him for knowing exactly how to touch me, exactly which buttons to push to reduce me to this needy, desperate version of myself.
"Yeah, Peaches?" His voice carries that cocky edge that drives me absolutely crazy—the tone that says he knows he's already won this argument.
His fingers slide between my thighs and find me already wet, already ready for him.
Of course I am. I've been wet since this morning when he fucked me in the shower before the guys arrived to help move boxes, since he pressed me against the cold tile and made me come so hard I nearly collapsed.
"We really should—oh God." The protest dies on my lips, morphing into a moan as his fingers find exactly the right spot, that perfect combination of pressure and movement that makes my knees go weak.
He stands in one fluid motion, spinning me around and bending me over the edge of the bed before I can process what's happening. My dress rides up over my hips, bunching at my waist. The cool air hits my exposed skin and I shiver.