Driving while she sleeps, holding her hand, I reflect on the past three months and try to let my logical side make sense of the fucking storm, just like she has.

Finding out my boy Brand isn’t mine was hell, but the man I chose to be every damn day forced me to get up and continue putting one foot in front of the other. And that boy is mine in every way possible, always would be.

Meeting a woman who infuriates and turns me on like no other gave me a focus, other than missing Brand. She pushed me to continue building a place that is meant to be a home at a time I wanted to just run from it all, all that I knew “home” to be, except Mags and Brand.

I look over as she sleeps. Her dark hair covers part of those sexy as hell red lips. She sleeps a hell of a lot these days.

I smile to myself, not giving a damn if she sleeps twenty hours a damn day. It’s my fault she is always physically exhausted. Her little body is carrying my child.

When she wakes up, looking at me like she wants me, you bet your ass I’m going to give it to her just how she likes it—hard.

Brand still calls me Dad occasionally. It’s confusing as hell to him. Being an adult, I can’t admit it’s confusing as hell to me, too. I can’t and won’t.

Garrett and Juliana, my brother and my ex-wife, the biological parents to Brand, are happy. And Brand is happier than he has been in years, more carefree. There is less tension in his life.

Juliana and I were toxic together. Kids may be resilient, but he sensed that shit. I’m going to always be a little pissed off at the situation, but it does lessen every day. I understand. I just don’t agree with why she did what she did. I understand. I just don’t agree with why he did what he did.

But, in a fucked-up way, if I were Garrett, and I lost my shit, it would be a brother I would want to step up and hold my place in line for me.

Phoenix, who once popped Juliana in the nose—tiny little shit was sticking up for me—is now great friends with her future sister-in-law. Hell, Juliana is giving her all sorts of advice, and I almost laugh when she gives her articles she clipped out of all those fucking magazines she reads all day. When both Juliana and Phoenix looked at me for doing that, I reeled it in. No, Phoenix would never choose her over me, but she’s pretty damn protective of her new best bud, her future sister-in-law. And yeah, Juliana is knocked up, too, so they will be raising little ones close together.

I think that’s good for Brand. Really good. And it’s really good for me, too.

Love that boy.

And my brother, well, he sure as hell could have run from here, taken him away, but he hasn’t. The man he is now, he always was, but life knocked him down

Phoenix and I will still be getting married October 14^th, two days from now. We will just be doing it a little differently. No ballroom. Instead, a barn, one that solidified my need to make her mine on a level I sure as fuck wasn’t familiar with. Same place she all but begged me to fuck her, and I had to force myself to say no.

I laugh to myself, thinking about the moment she took off and I was alone with myself and the big “What the fuck was that?” question.

The answer, loud as the thunderstorm when I ate her sweet pussy, was: that was me being a better man.

As we speak, Mags, Juliana, and Mandee are working on the plans I barked out over the phone when I got the call that our wedding venue was up in smoke due to an electrical issue, I decided right there I was going to grab the future and last Mrs. Gage Falcon.

When we pull onto the Landing’s dirt road, it’s dark. Phoenix slept the whole time, hand still in mine.

The bumps wake her, and she sighs. “We’re home?”

“Yeah,” I say as she sits up a bit.

I watch a smile creep up on her face. It’s fucking contagious.

Home.

Per my instructions, no one meets us or greets us at the door. Her and I are going to have a talk. I’m probably going to fuck her, too, even though I told myself I wouldn’t, and then we are back on task.

She’s looking around when we walk in, and then turns to me. “Where is everyone?”

I start to bend down to help her with her shoes, when I realize she doesn’t have any on.

I look up at her.

“I was in a hurry.” She shrugs.

“Guess we both were,” I reply, standing straight.

“Well,” she says, looking around again, “where are they?”

“They …” I pause as I walk us over to sit on the couch, pulling her gently down on my lap. “They’re waiting until I tell them they can come. Girls are all staying with you until your parents get here. Us guys will be in the cabins.”

“No, you most certainly are not,” she says, taking my chin firmly in her little hand.

“I am. And it’s also important you keep your little ass out of the plans. I got this all under control.”

“Is that so?”

I brace myself for a fight and answer, “You bet your ass it is.”

I don’t get a fight. I get beautiful brown eyes filling with tears, a sexy beautiful full red lip quivering, right before she throws her arms around my neck and squeezes.

Hate that she’s crying. Haven’t seen this side of her before.

Nothing I can do, but hold her. Nothing else I want to do, either.

When she stops shaking in my arms, she turns her head so I can’t see her face. “Just go, okay?”

“Excuse me?” I hold back as much shock as I can from those words.

She starts to stand, but I hold her still.

“God,” she groans, batting at her eyes. “I sound just like her.”

“Like …?” I’m still not catching on.

“My mother.” She shakes her head then holds it in her hands.

“You upset about not doing this up big? We can do it up—”

“Are you kidding me right now?” She tries to stand again.

“Not kidding you, but thinking maybe you should chill the fuck out and maybe breathe.”

To that, her eyes snap back to me. “Breathe?”

“Even with black shit running down from your eyes, you are so fucking beautiful,” I say. It’s the truth.

She scowls then looks down.

“You pissed you let go emotionally in front of me, tiny badass?”

She looks up, her scowl deepening.

“You’ve seen me go through some shit, Phoenix. Gave zero fucks by the time I filled that cabin up with flowers. You’re sitting here on my lap, my baby in your belly, going to be my wife in the matter of days; if you can’t let go, cry, lose your shit with me—the man who will now and forever feel honored to hold you together when shit’s fucked up—then we got a fucking problem.”

She leans into my chest, resting her forehead against it.

“We got a problem, Phoenix?” I ask, rubbing her back.

“I’m so tired,” she says as answer. “And being tired and around my mom”—she sighs—“it’s been exhausting.”

“Then we’ll get you to bed.” I stand up with her in my arms. “Just as soon as I make sure you’ve had something to eat.”

“I want scrambled eggs,” she says, looking up at me. “And toast, with blackberry—”

Unable to stop myself any longer, I kiss her. I kiss her like I haven’t kissed her in two days. I kiss her like she’s the only fucking person I ever want to kiss. I kiss her like I own her. I kiss her like she owns me, because all that is true.

Her hands are in my hair, fisting the fuck out of it, pulling me closer like she can’t get enough. I set her on the counter then step back when I know damn well we both need a breath.

As she grabs the hem of my shirt and tugs it up, I bend down so she can pull it over my head. She then tosses it aside and goes for my belt buckle as I move my hands up the back of her shirt, unhooking her bra. Then I pull her shirt up.

She is fumbling with my button, While I am trying to take it really damn easy with her tits.

“Christ,” I grumble when I grip one in my hand. “Two days and they grew that much?”

She stops fucking with the button as soon as my tongue licks slowly across her tight, little nipple. Then she shoves her hand down my pants, grabbing my cock like she fucking owns it. She does.

I suck gently on her nipple as I unbutton my pants and shove them down. She grips me tighter and yanks hard, pulling me closer, which makes me clamp down on her tit a bit too much, and she whimpers.

As I shove my thumbs into her waistband to pull them down, she wraps one arm around my neck, while still stroking me, as she lifts her ass up. I pull her pants off.

After tossing them aside, I reach under her, grabbing her hot little ass and lifting her up. She grips my shoulders as she wraps her legs around me.

“Bed,” I groan out as I feel her hot, wet pussy rub against me.

“Now,” she pleas as she reaches between us and grips me, rubbing my cock against her and lining us up.

“Fuck yes,” I hiss as she impales herself fully.

She cries out, her head falling back.

“Open your fucking eyes.”

Her eyes open slowly. Fire, I see fire in them. The same fire I feel burning inside my balls and following up as if there is a line of gasoline right to my fucking heart.

“Fuck,” I groan, pulling her head to my chest, wanting to ease the burn, or let her fucking feel it—feel what she does to me. What she’s done to me from the first time I saw her.

“I’m gonna come,” she whimpers, then pleas, “Come with me.”

I push her against the stainless-steel refrigerator and fuck her, make love to her—it’s one in the same with her, which is fucking perfect.

I make her feel me deeply, so fucking deep that I know not one thing will ever come between us. Not now. Not ever.

My balls are tight, so tight, as I thrust in and out of her. Her body tightens, her breath hitches, her pussy squeezes my cock so tightly I can’t hold back.

“Don’t you ever fucking leave me again,” I groan as I come hard, so fucking hard it nearly weakens my knees.

“Never!” she cries. “Never.”