Charlie

Life is . . . good? That’s a massive understatement. Let’s go with incredible. In fact, they haven’t even invented a word yet for how fucking wow my life is right now. Sure, I only got Ever back yesterday, but we danced to James Brown this morning in her kitchen while she cooked me eggs, so . . . wow. Compared to the low point I hit when I lost her, this isn’t just heaven. I’m on cloud nine, baby. And it’s only going to get better from here.

I’m lying between Jack and Danika on a mat inside the gym. Greer just handed us our asses and we’re in recovery mode. Out of the dozens of zombies in academy uniforms sprawled around us, though, I’m the only one smiling like a crazy person.

“Ever is spending the night at our place tonight.” I squint one eye and check the clock, still grinning at the thought of seeing her in my bed for the first time. Holding her there. Listening to her talk in the darkness. “I need to wash my sheets.”

Danika’s nose wrinkles. “When is the last time that happened?”

“No clue.”

She groans. “Some Febreze wouldn’t go amiss, either.” Her elbow meets Jack’s ribs. “That goes for you, too, Garrett.”

“And yet the complaint department has been totally silent.” He stretches his arms over his head and yawns. “Does Ever staying the night mean we should invest in some ear plugs, Charlie boy, you dirty dog, you?”

Sure does. I can’t think about what Ever did for me last night without tenting my uniform pants, so I better not. But it involved her mouth and a lot of moaning. All right, now I’m thinking about it anyway, might as well continue.

Ever broke out the pink bikini.

There goes my cock, rising like baked bread in the oven. Turning onto my side, I untuck my shirt to hide it.

I took her out to dinner last night, because you don’t surprise your girl with a flash mob, then order sushi. No, I took her out for Italian, like a good New York boy. Wine and everything. And I think the wine is what gave her the pink bikini idea, so I’m looking into buying nineteen cases of the stuff. She sauntered out of her closet in the strips of pink and I proposed. Again. Since we already agreed she would become my wife after I aced the lieutenant’s exam, she only laughed. Before proceeding to rock my world.

She stripped off the tiny, little bottoms—real slow, like she wanted to drive me insane—and hung them on that down low part of me she owns. Maybe that’s what she was trying to signal. Well, guess what? She didn’t need to. I’m hers. Until the end of time. I’ll wear a sandwich board that says Ever’s Guy on it if she asks me to.

Her knees found the floor in front of me after that. Tightening the pink material around the base of my erection, she dipped her mouth closer, closer . . . That’s when the moaning—mine—started. I don’t mind saying hers was even louder ten minutes later.

Ideas are already forming on how to make them glass-shattering tonight.

Honest to God, I’m looking forward to our conversation in the dark afterward just as much as the sex. We were up until the middle of the night last night, talking about everything from movies to recipe ideas to memories from our childhoods. Damn, I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface of her. Thankfully she’s giving me all the time in the world to get right to her center. Right where I want to live forever.

“You all right over there, Charlie boy?” Jack asks with a knowing look.

“Oh, uh . . . yeah. Yes, I would look into ear plugs.” My sigh is one of pure satisfaction. “Because we’re going to be doin’ it.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” Danika says dryly. “Do you want to give me the birds and the bees talk, too?”

Jack goes up on an elbow, beaming that 40-watt pirate smile. “Well, you see, honey. When a man and a woman have established a mutual respect for one another—”

“Stop.” Danika is laughing as she claps both hands over her ears. “Make it stop.”

Two things happen next that start my cop sense tingling. Jack begins tickling Danika, which isn’t unusual. It’s clearly nothing more than two childhood friends playing around and mild compared to the roughhousing that goes on in the gym every day. But when my brother, Greer, walks in, he takes in the scene and stiffens, eyes flaring.

“Keep your damn hands to yourself, Garrett,” my brother snaps.

Danika shoots to her feet and stands like we’re getting ready for daily inspection, although she looks irritated at herself for reacting that way. Jack doesn’t budge, but the smile he sends Greer is lazy and patronizing as hell.

That smile vanishes a second later when a redheaded girl walks into the gym behind my brother, carrying a clipboard. Jack sits up slowly, following her progress around the room with nothing short of fascination. And maybe . . . yeah, even a glimmer of recognition. Like he’s seen her somewhere before.

“Listen up, recruits,” Greer shouts, his annoyance still written on his features, especially when he slants a glance at Danika. “This is your new arms instructor, Katie McCoy.”

Jack’s mouth drops open. “Fuck. Me.”