I step out of my office and into the warm spring air. Easter’s just around the corner, and as winter’s bite has faded and spring has emerged, I’ve never been busier. Or happier. I have a million things on my mind, but first is knowing that some caffeine is just what I need to keep rolling on this busy day. The Broken Angel Foundation has been a total success, and while I’m sad that our clients have been through hell, I’m glad we’re able to help them get back on a happier path.

The gala was a night I’ll never forget. The room was packed, and I don’t know if it was the speech I gave, the band, Nikolas’s party planning, or just pure luck, but it seemed everyone showed up with a checkbook that overflowed with zeroes. In one night, we not only secured enough funds to totally renovate our original location, but also enough to break ground on a second shelter on the other side of town, doubling our bed count. With some of the corporate benefactors we’ve gathered, I’ve even started looking at setting up a unit of family suites. So far, the mayor’s been on board, and when he hasn’t . . . well, as the song goes, Damn, it feels good to be a gangster.

It’s been a gift to give these families a safe place to sleep, even hiring several off-duty police officers whom Marcus recommended to keep everything secure in the evenings and overnight. Ryker was happy about that because while we haven’t had any issue with Jacob’s old cronies since he ‘nailed’ Viktor, as the streets called it, this is still a large city that will always be ripe for criminal activity, so he worries about my safety.

I tease him that he only spends so much time worrying about me because he’s bored, but that’s not really true. With Marcus busy running the city and Ryker being more of a background man in their deal, he has been instrumental with running the foundation. It’s amazing how we can wake in each other’s arms, ride together to the office, work all day as we sneak an occasional long lunch break in, and then ride back home together to do it all over again the next day. I love getting to spend my time with him, both of us passionate to make a positive change for the city and the families who live within the foundation’s care.

I don’t have time right now to think about Ryker. I’ve got a very important debt to pay. Heading down to the parking garage, I have to smile when I see Kendra waiting for me. “Asked Marcus if I could be your driver today. He said no problem.”

“You keep driving for me, people are gonna think you’re not a badass anymore,” I tease, jumping in the back of the black Lincoln as Kendra gets behind the wheel. While she’s dressed more professionally than what I normally see her in, I know she’s armed. And there’s no way she’d fit in some of the boardrooms I’ve done presentations in over the past six months. “So you doing okay?”

“You know it,” Kendra says. She chuckles as I fidget around in the back seat, stripping out of my office clothes for what I normally wear for these sorts of things. Kendra knows, but she still likes to tease me. “Hey, if you wanna take off your clothes for money, I know a place—”

“Just drive,” I mockingly growl as she laughs. It takes us about thirty minutes with downtown traffic to reach our destination, a nondescript squat brick building in one of the middle-class areas of town. I look around as we pull into the visitor’s parking slot, chuckling. “You know, I never would have imagined he’d work here.”

“Hey, the man’s got a cover story that’s damn near airtight,” Kendra says. “Besides, it’s gotta be cool to be able to get away and do something to balance those karmic scales. I’ll wait in the office, though, if you don’t mind. Me and formal education don’t exactly have a good history.”

“Why’s that?” I ask as I get out, Kendra following behind me just as she’s supposed to as we approach the doorway. “Too worried about the guys in class?”

“Nah, but after kicking my seventh grade math teacher in the nuts . . . well, I kinda got a reputation,” Kendra says. She stops at the door, looking at the metal detector. “Damn.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll wave you through,” comes a soft spoken voice from the office. There’s a buzz, and the two of us step through, approaching the check-in desk where I see a balding, slightly overweight man with thick glasses that are just this side of Coca-Cola bottles. He gives me a soft smile, offering his hand. “Miss Desjardins, it’s a pleasure to see you, as always.”

“Hi, Mr. Strauss. It’s good to see you again,” I reply as Kendra and Joe give each other the respectful nod that comes from the other side of this unassuming man’s life. I’ve come to recognize a lot of it over the past six months, and I know that without even saying a word, Joe’s saying he’ll take care of me while Kendra’s saying she holds him responsible for anything that happens. I give them a moment, and when Joe turns his eyes back to me, I smile. “Shall we?”

“Of course,” Joe says, leading me down the hallway. “I have to admit, the students are excited. Now that your show’s getting new airplay on one of the local stations, you’re . . . well, let’s just say I’ve had to tell a few of my more interested boys to tone down the comments.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Joe, we both know boys will say stupid shit.”

“True,” Joe says as we turn a corner, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t show them the right way to do things. I have to say, thank you. I thought you’d stop after that first speech at the student government event.”

“Most of the time, it’s not the class presidents we need to reach out to,” I say softly, pausing in the hallway. “It’s the kids who never get within sniffing distance of that sort of recognition. The kids who’ve already seen it modeled for them by their own parents or, God forbid, are already caught up in the cycle themselves.”

“You ever know someone caught up in it and you need my help, give me a call,” Joe says, his voice still quiet but colder. “No charge.”

“I’ll pass that along,” I say. We get going again, emerging into the school gymnasium just as the principal gives me a rousing welcome. I take the microphone from her with a nod and a hug before stepping back and looking around at the six hundred faces watching me as I clear my throat.

“Thank you, Garfield Junior High, for having me today. I’m sure some of you are wondering just why I’m here. It’s not about acting. That’s another life for me. Instead, I’d like to talk about something that started just after I stopped acting for the cameras and started acting for my life.”

There’s always this moment as I set the microphone down on the small table that the school’s prepared for me, and I untuck the plain black dress shirt that I wear for my speeches. When I pick up the microphone again, I can see a few people sitting forward, curious. I get right down to it, and I reach for the first button on my blouse, and I can practically feel three hundred boys’ eyes half pop out of their skulls as I begin unbuttoning my top. A few people look shocked, but the principal knows what I’m going to do. I’ve already sent her pictures. When I reach the last button, I pull my shirt off with a bit of flair, revealing the swimsuit I wear underneath. It’s specially made, with a low enough cut that the biggest scar on my chest is visible. I set my shirt aside and pick up the microphone again.

“Let me tell you not about my life in front of the camera, but the acting I had to do after the lights were off and the man I married carved these on my skin.”

* * *

“So, how’d it go?” Kendra asks as I get back in the car.

“If you can believe it, Joe cried when he gave me a thank you hug,” I tell her. “Oh, and if we ever need his services in a situation relating to the Foundation, he said it’s free of charge.”

Kendra glances over, nodding in appreciation. I’m sitting up front this time. I only ride in the back with her if I have to. I enjoy this casual, friendly setup more. “So, where to now?”

“Back to the grind,” I say with a laugh. “You sure you don’t want to volunteer down at the Foundation?”

“You kidding me?” Kendra says as she pulls out of the parking lot and we head back downtown. “Hate to tell you, but most criminals are that way because they like getting a lot of money for not a lot of hours working. And you want me to just give my work away for free?”

“Damn right, I do,” I reply. “I’m not asking Ryker’s crewmember. I’m asking my friend.”

Kendra glances over, shaking her head. She says nothing until we’re all the way back in the parking garage and she puts the Lincoln in park. “I’ll see you Monday morning then,” she says quietly. “Just promise me that I don’t have to get all dressed up or anything. You make me wear a skirt, and I’m quitting on your ass.”

I lean over, giving her a hug. “You can wear anything you want. Ride or die, babe.”

She claps me on the back, and we get out, Kendra walking me to the elevator before stopping. “I’d go up, but I promised Marcus I’d get some other things looked after. I’ll stop by the penthouse sometime over the weekend, if you’re free.”

I give her a wave and take the elevator up, my exhaustion hitting me like a ton of bricks. I realize I’d skipped my earlier coffee dose and head for the break room as soon as the elevator doors open. I’m hustling so much as I turn the corner that I almost crash into Ryker as he turns the corner, catching me as his large hands wrap around my upper arms when I stumble.

“Hey, babe, where you headed so fast? How was the speech?”

“Coffee. Must have coffee,” I reply, faking a pretty good zombie moaning growl, and he laughs at me.

“I’ve got you. You know, if you ever want to go back to acting, I bet The Walking Dead would love to have you as a guest star with that imitation. C’mon.” He grabs my hand, walking toward the kitchen. Grabbing two cups of joe, we head out to the garden.

Yes, the Broken Angel Foundation has a garden. The building is built in an octagonal shape, and there was no way I was going to waste that big open area in the middle. In the center of the garden is our mascot, a gorgeous marble angel standing seven feet tall. The garden is full of flowering trees and bushes, little pops of colorful flowers, rows of veggies, and private sitting areas for people to escape to when they need a moment alone. It’s peaceful and one of my favorite things about the whole facility. Settling in my favorite lounge chair, I take a long, slow sip, the fog clearing from my eyes enough to realize he’s staring at me, his eyes virtually twinkling.

No way. I haven’t told anyone my secret, not even Kendra when I had the opportunity earlier today. I mean, I just found out yesterday. But . . . does he know already? There’s no way he knows.

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. “You’re looking at me like a kid who just got a puppy for Christmas. What’s up?”

Ryker sets his coffee down, almost vibrating with excitement as he reaches out and takes my hand. “I heard back. They said yes. The league agreed, and now I’m the coach. Hey, batter, batter, sa-wing, batter.”

His grin is so big, lighting up his face with joy, that I can imagine what he looked like as a boy. He’d come up with the idea of a Little League baseball team for the kids staying at the shelter, but there were a ton of challenges. First was the fact that so many of the city kids have never played baseball. Basketball? Sure, they’ve been hooping since they could walk. But baseball takes space, and in this city, that’s at a premium.

But Ryker’s been insistent. “It’ll make sure every kid starts off with a fair chance,” he said when he explained it to the Foundation board, “and it’ll give every kid a chance to feel real grass. It might be the biggest chunk of grass these kids have seen in their entire lives up to this point, and that’s not right. So let’s start making it right.”

It convinced the board, but it was a logistical difficulty to get approval because players have to be on the roster for the whole season and we have a rotating list of kids depending on when their families move in and move on. But Ryker’s personality and force of will are undeniable, and within days of announcing it to the shelter families, Ryker had enough kids interested to start holding practices. Convincing the league took a bit more persuasion, but with all of his resources, Ryker’s a convincing person.

“So you made them an offer they couldn’t refuse?” I joke, and Ryker laughs, leaning back in his chair.

“What can I say? They respected my point of view.”

I can’t hold back my excitement, getting out of my chair and sitting in his lap. I give him a huge hug, squeezing as tight as I can. I’m so damn proud of him. “I’m so happy for you. You know, you really should think about running for mayor someday. This town could use someone like you running it.”

He chuckles, and we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, relaxing back into the lounger. Ryker absently runs his fingers up and down my arm, leaving goosebumps, both of us enjoying the moment of calm in our new busy daily schedules.

After a few minutes, he kisses my shoulder softly. “Sarah, thank you. This life . . . it’s not what I ever thought I’d have, but you gave me more than I ever thought I deserved. You’re amazing.”

I smile, turning to look at him and stroke his face. “Ryker, you saved me—not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I had almost given up. That run where you caught me was it for me. I was getting away or I was gonna die trying. You have kept me safe and taught me that love does exist, and it is beautiful, not ugly, controlling cruelty. With you, I thrive. Thank you.”

I lean forward, and our lips meet in a kiss, sweet at first, but as always, our fire lights easily, and we kiss with passion and abandon. After a moment, Ryker ends the kiss, pulling back. “Wait. I wasn’t done. You’re more than I deserve, more than I dreamed, but I want more.”

Ryker helps me out of the chair, getting out himself to kneel alongside it. My breath hitches in my throat and my heart stops as I think, Is he doing what I think he’s doing?

He is. Oh, my God, he is. Ryker takes my hand in his, kissing my knuckles with a butterfly soft kiss before looking up into my eyes. It’s hard to see. I’m already tearing up, but I have to hear the words. “Sarah, you are my Rygirl. Forever in my heart, the only person I will love. I promise you, I will do everything I can, give everything I am, to give you a home that is safe, a family that cares for you, and to give you every happiness that exists in this world every day for the rest of our lives. Sarah, will you marry me?”

I’m so filled with joy that it bursts out in tears as I nod, barely able to say yes, but he seems to understand. He swoops up, pulling me into his arms and hugging me tight. And I know I’m right where I should be, safe and happy in his arms, in his heart. Laughing, he twirls me around until I beg him to stop. I look up at him.

“So, uh . . . Ry? I have some news too. You’re gonna be Coach, but you’re also gonna be . . . Daddy. I’m pregnant.”

His jaw drops as his eyes go wide, and he takes a step back, catching his balance as the news hits him. “Are you serious? Oh, my God. Daddy. You’re pregnant.”

He’s rambling, obviously a bit in shock, but then his gaze locks on me as he pulls me in tight, swaying back and forth a little. I feel a little shudder in his chest, and his voice cracks. “Sarah? Thank you for making me the happiest man alive. I love you so much.”

I wrap my arms around him, laying my head on his shoulder. “I love you, too. Oh, and one last thing. You have to call Nikolas to tell him we need a wedding before I start showing. He’s probably only got a couple of months, but he pulled off the gala that fast before, so hopefully, he can work some magic.”

Ryker kisses my temple, laughter in his voice. “For you, we can definitely make some magic happen.”

I know there’s a thousand and one things still to do today. Knowing that makes me happy. But for right now, I just want to take a moment with my king, holding each other and swaying in the garden, surrounded by our hopes and dreams coming true.