Epilogue

Doc

Two weeks later

We spent our first few hours on Blakely installing a new French door, then passed most of the evening at Gladys's house with West, Cam, Inara, and Royce.

Natasha's not in danger any longer—that we know of—but the former SEAL wasn't taking any chances. In a few hours, Lucas and three of Cam's installers will show up to put in a new Oversight system at the house, and then…maybe I'll be able to truly relax.

My house was a goddamn mess when we got back to Seattle. I packed up the last few things I cared about—the photo of me and Tessa, the quilt my mother made me when I left for college, and the handful of medals I earned as a PJ—and Natasha and I moved into a suite at the Five Points Seattle.

I've wanted her every day, but she's been moving so gingerly, so carefully, like she's afraid she'll simply shatter, that we haven't done more than kiss.

But here, in Natasha's house—our house now—after a night with some of those who've become our family, maybe we can find the last bit of healing we've needed.

I lock the door, double-check the windows, and carry our suitcases into the bedroom. Natasha sits on the bed, fresh tears falling in trails down her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" I'm at her side in two steps, and gather her into my arms. "Talk to me, baby."

"I can't believe we're here." She sniffles and swipes her hand carefully under her nose. It'll be sore for another few weeks. The bruises under her eyes have only just started to fade.

"We can go back to Seattle right now, if you want." Graham's Coast Guard buddy had my plane towed to the dry dock, and not only did someone pay to have it repaired, but they even got the blood out of the carpet and replaced the seats. The new lumbar support is amazing. "Ninety minutes, and we can be back at the Five Points."

Natasha cups my cheek, leans in, and kisses me so tenderly, I feel it all the way down to my toes. "I love you."

Worry twists in my gut. The words don't come easy to her. Even now. She only says them in the middle of the night, after the nightmares come for her. I hold her close, tell her no one will ever hurt her again while I'm around, and she always says, "I love you, Doc. I hope you know that."

"You're scaring me, baby. We're safe. We're together."

With a small shake of her head, she straddles me and runs her fingers through my hair. "I'm not tired, Doc. Are you?"

"Fuck no." Stripping off the flowing purple blouse that shows off her toned arms, I drink in the sight of her breasts hugged in black lace. "I want you, Natasha. I want to taste you. I want to watch you when you come. And then I want to bury myself deep inside you and watch you come again."

Her pupils are half blown and her lips part on a moan that sends all the blood rushing to my dick.

"These have to go." I reach for the button on her khaki shorts, flick it open, and expose her matching lace panties. "God. You smell so fucking good."

"How good?"

She wriggles her hips, and I swear under my breath. This woman is my everything. She saved me.

"You're all I need, Natasha. For the rest of my life." I unhook her bra, dip my head, and fasten my lips around one dusky nipple. The other rises to meet the pinch of my fingers.

Natasha fumbles for my belt buckle between her little gasps and moans. Her body sings for me, and mine for her. I toe off my hiking boots, tug my t-shirt over my head, and let my jeans fall to the floor.

My dick tents my boxers. Natasha reaches for the waistband, but I grab her hands and pin them to the mattress. "Not yet, baby. You come first. Always."

Natasha wriggles out of her panties, and I bury my face between her thighs. She's soaking wet. Flushed from head to toe. And begging me with those big gray eyes.

"You are the best fucking thing to ever happen to me, Natasha. I love you."

The boathouse deck needs a good scrubbing. But Gladys is in her Adirondack chair, her feet kicked out in front of her, wearing a pair of tie-dyed crocs, denim shorts, and a bright green t-shirt that reads, "I like my books, my men, and my martinis filthy."

The normality of it all is too much. Tears spring to my eyes, and I take a moment before I step out from behind one of the tall trees so Gladys can see me.

I shouldn't be here. Alive. Safe. Happy. But I am. Thanks to Doc. And his friends. His family.

Ripper emptied that bank account in the Maldives before we left D.C.—along with four others he traced to Bastian, Doherty, and Colonel Sapier. Half of the money went to Chris's widow. Marisol will be set for the rest of her life. I haven't been able to face her yet, but I wrote her a long letter, and she responded, inviting me to Maine to visit her and their two kids any time.

The other half…well, by some miracle, Clancy didn't fire me. Not exactly. He sold me—and Doc—a controlling share of Blakely Island Resort. The house is now ours outright. Clancy will get thirty percent of the profits after expenses, but he's tired of worrying about the place, and he's got enough money saved up to pay for the best senior living Florida has to offer and still leave a sizable inheritance for his children and grandchildren.

My phone buzzes, and warmth spreads through my core.

Doc: I can still taste you. Think anyone would mind if we disappeared for an hour? Or two?

Natasha: Well, they're all here because of us, but…I'm pretty sure Inara and Royce are making out behind the boathouse right now. So…

It takes me another moment to cool the flush heating my body before I pin a smile to my face and step around the tree.

"Gladys? Are you ready to go?" I ask. "Everyone's waiting on us."

"About damn time." She wobbles to her feet, hands me her tumbler, and pushes her oversized sunglasses on top of her head. "What took you so long?"

So much for trying to cool myself off. My cheeks catch fire again. I turn quickly, but Gladys grabs my arm before I can rush down the steps to the ATV.

"Spill it."

"I was…um…"

"Doin' the horizontal tango with Dr. Sexy Pants?" She cackles and slaps her thigh. "Good for you, baby girl. You two were lookin' a little…pent up when you came over for dinner last night."

"God, Gladys. Please don't repeat that to anyone."

Despite my embarrassment, she wasn't wrong. Doc and I only came back to the island yesterday, and we hadn't risked anything more vigorous than kissing until last night, when being back in my—our—house left me so emotional, I scared him into thinking something was wrong. We made love for hours, and this morning, I woke up with him spooning me, his hard length half nestled between my ass cheeks.

We needed this. To be here. Where we first met.

We needed to rediscover each other. His ribs are still tender. So is my nose. I bought a tube of concealer before we left Seattle to cover the sickly blue and yellow bruises around my eyes. It…mostly works. Of course, my lack of experience in makeup doesn't help. Inara gave me some tips this morning, and I think I look almost human today.

Gladys slides onto the back of the ATV and wraps her arms around my waist. At the top of the hill, Inara and Royce wait for us on the scooter they rented for the week. Her lips are swollen, and I swear Royce's Hawaiian shirt was buttoned over his black tank top when I left them. Not anymore.

Despite Wren, Zephyr, and Ripper's assurances that they haven't found anyone else connected to Bastian or Sapier, West didn't want us coming back here alone until Cam's company—Emerald City Security—could install a top of the line system for us.

West, Cam, Inara, Royce, and Cam's coworker, Lucas, are staying in the resort's largest cabin for the week. It's also the one closest to our house.

A team of installers showed up an hour ago, and they're setting up cameras, panic buttons, and silent alarms. Nash built us new nightstands with a single-pistol gun safe in each of the bottom drawers, and we spent some time at the range before we left Seattle.

Ten minutes later, the four of us pull up to the Orcas cabin. Royce takes Gladys's arm to help her up the steps, and I catch sight of the tag on Inara's tank top. I touch her arm before she makes it through the front door. "Your shirt is on inside out."

"Oh, fuck. I…uh…needed help putting on more sunscreen…"

It feels so good to laugh. Even better now that I consider Inara and Cam—along with Wren, Cara, Hope, Quinton, and Raelynn—almost…friends. "More sunscreen is always a good idea."

She quickly strips off the dark red tank to reveal a cute white bikini top, flips the shirt to rights, and tugs it back over her head. "West would have given me shit all day. The walls in this place need more soundproofing."

"We can work on that over the winter." I follow her through the cabin, and we find Doc on the beach just off the patio, stacking wood in the fire pit. It's in the low eighties today, but after sundown, we'll want the extra warmth. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my cheek against his back.

"Take a break, babe. You've done too much today."

He turns, and though I can see the strain in his eyes, we both slept easy last night. That hasn't happened in a long time.

"I'm glad you're back," he whispers in my ear. Draping his arm around my shoulders, he keeps me close as we head for the deck. "I know we're safe here, Natasha. And Inara was with you the whole time. But fucking hell. This is hard."

I stop, sink my fingers into his hair, and pull his head lower so I can kiss him. "I know. I don't like it either. But sooner or later, West is going to call you because someone's hurt. And you'll fly back to Seattle at two in the morning, leaving me here alone."

He growls, the sound almost feral. "Or you'll come with me."

"At two in the morning? Hardly. You know I need my beauty sleep."

Doc grabs my ass, and I slap my hand over my mouth to stifle my yelp. "You're beautiful, Natasha. Perfect. And Mine."

"Get a room, you two." Cam eases herself down onto the cedar glider, her gaze pinned to the beach. And her husband striding out of the water wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks.

"Like you don't want to jump West right now," Inara teases as she hands Cam a glass of iced coffee and perches on the railing.

"He's been out there since ten," Cam says. "You'd think after so many years as a SEAL, he'd hate swimming."

"Not when the water's as perfect as it is up here." West grabs a towel from the basket next to the stairs and drapes it around his shoulders. Cupping the back of Cam's head, he brushes a kiss to her lips. "Swimming without sixty pounds of gear is pure heaven. You should come in with me, angel."

"I'll stick to the pool," she says with a laugh. "Sand and I…don't have a good track record."

"I'll carry you." He sweeps her up in his arms, and her cane clatters to the deck.

"I don't have my suit on! Put me down! Or a least…carry me to our room so I can get changed first!"

The two disappear inside the cabin. Royce comes out with a six-pack of lemonade and a bowl of chips. "We won't see them for a while."

Inara's phone rings. Her brows shoot up, and she lifts it to her ear. "I have to admit, I didn't expect you to actually come," she says. "We're outside on the deck. Drop your stuff and come join us."

Doc stands up a little straighter, his shoulders stiff. My fingers twine with his. Two minutes later, a small white dog on a leash trots out from between the two cabins, followed by a second who's her exact opposite. Twice her size, black, sleek. And clearly totally in love.

"Pixel, stop," Ryker calls, and the white dog freezes, one paw up in the air. "Wait for Torrent."

As soon as the black dog catches up, Pixel yips, and the two start to play.

The big man carries his daughter in a bright yellow harness strapped to his chest, while Wren gapes at the view. "Fudgesicles, this is gorgeous."

Ryker drapes his arm around her shoulders. They're so completely focused on one another, they don't notice all of us watching them. Until West carries Cam back out on the deck and stops, clearly not ready for the scene in front of him. "Uh, Ry? Did Pixel make a friend on the ferry?"

Ryker laughs, his big hand bracing Harlow against him. "That's Torrent. He's a year old, and thinks she's the best thing that ever happened to him. The jury's still out on us."

Later that night, with the fire pit blazing on the beach and everyone full of hamburgers, veggie burgers, and Gladys's chocolate chip cookies, I snuggle up against Doc's side on a thick blanket.

"I'm going to have to raise my prices," Cam mutters. "All these free Oversight installs are eating into my profits. Raelynn and Nash's place, Doc's house in West Seattle, your place here… Not to mention all the work that went into fixing that hole Xavier found."

"Hidden Agenda is paying for all of those," West says. "Tell Lucas to stop giving us the family discount."

The big man with the easy smile chuckles and pulls his toasted marshmallow off the skewer. Lucas supervised the install today and only joined us a couple of hours ago. "Honey, do you really want me chargin' your family retail?"

"Of course not. But we're raising our prices. When you present our proposal to Pueblo Software next week, mark it up five percent."

"Hallelujah!" Lucas smashes his s'more together with a big grin. "It's only taken you months to agree with me this time."

"You know…Hidden Agenda could invest in Emerald City Security," West offers.

"Oh, hell no." Cam shoves at him. "One of us is completely legit, stud. And that one of us is staying that way."

"We'll send it through Second Sight. You'll still be legit, angel. Just…better funded."

The two debate all the way back to the cabin, West cradling Cam to his chest so she doesn't have to navigate the shifting sand with her weak leg.

Gladys is the next to leave. Lucas walks her across the beach to her place, the two of them bantering back and forth like they've known one another forever. Inara and Royce turn in not long after.

Finally, it's just Ryker, Wren, and Harlow left with us. The two dogs passed out an hour ago, curled up together at the edge of the blanket.

Wren nurses the baby, leaning back against Ryker's chest. "It's so quiet," she says. "And the stars. I've never seen so many. I love the city, don't get me wrong. But this…we need to come up here more often."

Ryker skims his hand down his wife's arm and stares out into the inky darkness off shore. Before sunset, Wren carried Harlow down the beach and let her toes touch the water. She squealed and laughed the whole time, while Ry stared on in awe.

"You and Natasha have a good thing going up here, Doc," Ry says. "I wouldn't blame you if you decided to retire. You can't tell me flying back to Seattle whenever West needs you won't be a hardship."

"I did it four times last year and you never even noticed. Besides, the resort is only open April through October. The rest of the year…we'll be in town."

"Fu…dging horsepucky," Ryker mutters. "Four times?"

"With how bad city traffic is, it's faster for me to fly down from here than drive from our place in West Seattle."

Every time Doc talks about us—about our plans, our life, our…anything—I can't believe how lucky I am. He didn't give up on me. Not even when it could have cost him his life.

The baby falls asleep in Wren's arms, and she carefully lays her in the carrier. "There's something in the air up here. She never goes down this easy."

"Little bird, is that your way of suggesting we invest in some property?" Ry asks.

"Maybe…"

"There's a place for sale just down the road, McCabe—Ry." Doc grins. "But the neighbors are real troublemakers."

Ryker leans back on his hands, with Wren snuggled up next to him. "As long as they're family, they can make as much trouble as they want."

Thank you for reading Guarding His Heart! More than once while I was writing this book, I doubted it would ever come together. Doc and Natasha had so much chemistry, but they were both so stubborn, getting either of them to talk to me was…difficult. But once they did…wow, did they ever have a lot to say.

And of course, there was Gladys. I love Gladys. She's who I want to be when I'm eighty-three years old. Funny t-shirts, dyed hair, and all.