“How do I look?”

Olive twirls in a slow circle in front of me, showing off her costume. I take her in, my eyes feasting on the gold, shimmering dress hugging tightly to every single one of her curves. It’s short, much shorter than anything Olive would normally wear out, and I’m already getting off on a fantasy of pulling off the stilettos and running my tongue all the way up her legs later tonight.

In fact…I stalk toward her, yanking her closer to me so she can feel just how much I want her right now. My hands snake up the backs of her thighs. My fingers gloss over the garter holster on her left leg and the toy gun stuck inside it.

“You look so fucking sexy,” I murmur, staring into her eyes. “I don’t want to go to the Halloween party anymore.”

She swallows, leaning into me, gazing right back into my stare like she’s on exactly the same page. “Jeremy and Rayne will kill us if we don’t show.”

I lean down and run my nose along the shell of her ear before tugging the lobe between my teeth. I seem to have a biting fetish where Olive is concerned. It’s something I never knew I liked, but she always tastes good enough to eat.

“Don’t care.”

She moans and arches into me. “Ronin…”

Finding strength I really wish she didn’t have, she pushes away from me and takes a step back. Holding up a finger, she smiles. “Later.”

Scanning me, she licks her lips. “I might not be able to wait until we get home, though. You’re the sexiest James Bond I’ve ever seen.”

I smooth a hand over my dark suit, my fingers glossing over my real (unloaded) pistol situated in my hip holster. “And there’s no Bond Girl out there more stunning than you.”

She holds out her hand. “Shall we?”

We exit the condo and ride the elevator down to the parking garage. Our condo, because the day after everything went down at Margiano’s distribution center, she officially moved in with me. Her house in the suburbs is on the market, and having her with me every day on a permanent basis feels like the best decision I ever made.

Almost.

Yesterday was the arraignment for Albert Margiano. Mick is testifying against his uncle, in exchange for a lesser sentence. I think he regretted the fact that his uncle went after Olive solely because Mick wanted her. But if he ever gets out of prison and attempts to contact Olive…well, that’s a bridge I’ll cross if I ever get there. Just because Mick isn’t the cold-blooded murderer I thought he was, he was still an abusive asshole to Olive, and I’ll never let him near her.

I’m confident that nothing will end well for Mick.

It was satisfying as hell, watching the D.A. tell a judge everything that bastard has done, and sitting in the courtroom with Olive by my side as I watched the judge deliver the news that Elle’s killer will stand trial not only for her murder, but also for the murder of Grace Hodges and a whole host of other crimes, a deep sense of rightness filled me, and I knew that I was set free from everything that’s plagued me for years. The Margiano crime family’s been cut off at the head, and we all know what happens to snakes when the head is separated.

They die.

The streets of Wilmington, North Carolina, will be that much safer for it.

After court was over, Lindy Hodges admitted that she knew Grace had gotten in bed with Margiano’s crew, but she was too scared to tell us, fearing retaliation from the Margianos. Olive and I both hugged her, letting her know that we understood her doubts and that we were happy she no longer had to live with that fear.

Unlocking the doors of my new Ram, I lift Olive inside and round the front to climb in on the driver’s side.

“You realize that I’ve never in my adult life dressed up for Halloween, right?” I ask her as I start the ignition.

She shrugs. “I haven’t either. But Jeremy and Rayne made a compelling case.”

I snort, pulling out of the parking garage and heading for the downtown home that my best friend shares with his wife. “If, ‘Dress up for our party or be shamed for the entire next year’ counts as compelling, everything I thought was true in the world no longer is.”

She looks at me, brows lifted. “Even though I make a stunning Bond Girl?”

Reaching over, I grab her hand and lift it to my lips. “Not that. That’s definitely the truth.”

Every day I’m still trying to figure out how I got so damn lucky. If Jeremy hadn’t asked me to watch over Olive while he went on his honeymoon, I don’t like to think about what would have happened. She might not have turned to me when she needed help. She might not be the center of my world the way she is now. There are way too many “might not’s” that I don’t want to think about.

I’m just thankful we made it out on the other side as the new Ronin and Olive, together no matter what.

When we walk into the Teague house, the party is in full swing. Decker runs up to us as we close the front door, and I take one look at him dressed as a Storm Trooper and Night in a doggie R2D2 costume and lose it.

But then my stomach clenches and my heart expands when Olive drops to her knees beside the little boy and takes him into her arms. “You and Night win the best costume award,” she announces, hugging him tight.

He pulls back and gestures toward the big stone fireplace in the center of the great room, where Jeremy and Rayne are standing with Berkeley, Dare, and their friends from Lone Sands, Drake and Mea Sullivan. Olive’s neighbor from her old neighborhood, Macy, is here with her husband and her son. “Wait till you see Mom and Dad.”

For Decker, I don’t roll my eyes, but Jeremy is truly in his element. Olive squeezes my hand, and when I glance down at her that bottom lip is squeezed tightly between her teeth as she tries to stifle a laugh.

Jeremy is in full costume as Anakin Skywalker, and Rayne, tucked into his side, is dressed as Padmé Amidala.

“Oh, my God,” whispers Olive. “I just can’t with their little family cuteness.”

Leading Olive by the hand, I walk with her over to Jeremy and Rayne. Olive places a hand on Rayne’s stomach, and both sisters look down at the tiny bump protruding there.

“I still can’t believe it,” whispers Olive as the sisters exchange a look that only they can understand.

My hand goes to the back of her neck, squeezing gently as I swallow hard against the emotion threatening to choke me alive. When Olive looks up at me, there’s something in her eyes that I’m thanking God for every day.

Trust. Deep and never-ending. It’ something I’m never going to take for granted, and one day in a future not so far away Olive is going to be the one with the bump.

This is the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my days with. Start forever with. And I can’t fucking wait to see her pregnant with my baby.

Pulling her toward me, I drop a kiss on her forehead and then lead her into the party to join our friends.

My palms sweat as I take another sip of the bourbon meant to calm me. Jeremy stares me down from where he stands in the kitchen, his hands folded across his chest and a smirk on his face.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?”

“The right time,” I growl, setting the glass down on the island.

Jeremy spreads his arms wide. “Everyone she loves is here in this house. It’s been the right time all night.”

I nod, pacing away from him. When I turn around again, I bounce on my toes like a fighter getting ready to head into the ring. “You’re right. I gotta do it now before I lose my goddamn mind.”

Jeremy nods. “Thank God. Rayne’s taking Deck up to bed soon, and he’ll be pissed if he misses this.”

I shove Jeremy’s shoulder as I pass him, and zero in on Olive as I walk back into the great room. She’s sitting in a chair by the front window, talking to Grisham’s fiancée, Greta, and she looks so relaxed and happy that I just pause for a minute to take her in.

Until I feel Jeremy’s index finger digging into my spine.

“Do it, asshole,” he hisses in my ear. “Or I’ll shoot you.”

Rolling my eyes, I don’t bother to turn around. “That’s your finger, Brains.”

“Sentiment’s still true,” he assures me.

I’m not the kind of guy who stands in front of a roomful of people and makes a pretty speech. Olive knows this about me. So she won’t fault me if I screw this up.

I hope.

Holding her in my focus, I stride over to her and stop when I reach her chair. She glances up at me, pausing in her conversation with Greta, and her eyes light up.

God, I love this woman.

“That, right there.” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as I drop to my knee.

Greta gasps, her hands flying to her mouth, but Olive’s eyes well with tears as she holds my gaze in hers. She doesn’t move a muscle, her eyes burning into mine.

“That’s my whole reason for being, Red. When your eyes light up just because I’m around? It’s not just the best damn feeling in the world. It’s the driving force of my day. Every day.”

A single tear rolls down my girl’s face, and I want so badly to reach up and brush it away. But first, I need to ask her the most important question of my life.

“Will you let me keep making you happy to see me, every single day, for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me, Olive Alexander?”

Olive’s face breaks into a beautiful smile, dimples and all, and I take a breath for the first time since entering the great room.

“Yes,” she says simply.

My heart pounding, I reach into my pocket and pull out the simple, platinum engagement ring. A solitaire, pear-shaped diamond sits on top, sparkling and perfect, exactly the same way my future wife does.

After I slip it onto her finger, she slides off the chair and right into my arms.

“I love you so much,” she whispers fiercely in my ear.

Greta’s voice pipes up. “If you two get married before Grisham and I do, I’m going to kill someone.”

The room erupts in laughter, and then applause, and through it all I hold on to the woman who saved me from a lifetime of loneliness and revenge.

She’s the best fucking promise I ever made.