“No,” I say, just as I see the anger bubble up in Edge, his fists clenching. “I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking.”
“Fucking deranged, stalker, psycho, motherfucker, dickless pervert,” Edge is muttering through gritted teeth, the swear words just flowing out of him like a river. “He wanted to kill you because you rejected his ass? Fucker’s going to die. I swear to God, that piece of shit is going to—”
“No!” I say, laughing as I grab Edge by the arm and tug at him so he’ll look down at me. “Don’t you see, Edge? He’s a psycho and he wanted to kill me, yeah. But not because I’m a woman or because I rejected him or insulted him or whatever! It’s because I really was a threat to his own business! Don’t you get it, Edge? This is as fucking legit as it gets for a compliment about my business! Maybe we are making progress as a society if the primary motive for killing a woman is that she’s too damned good to compete with in the marketplace!”
Edge just stares at me like I’m insane. And maybe I am insane, but in a way it really does feel like I’ve achieved something when I frustrate a competitor to the point where he’s willing to kill me because he can’t go toe-to-toe with me! Hell yeah, I’m good!
Edge is rubbing his forehead as we walk down the street together, and then finally he breaks into a smile and slides his big arm around my waist. I lean my head back and laugh as people turn to stare at us, this strange couple walking in the sun, a man the size of a truck, tattoos peeking out from under his prison orange, a woman in a business suit with no panties on, the two of them kissing each other like they’re the only two people in the world, the only two people that matter, the only two people in this story.
We are the only two people in this our story, I think as the camera pans away from us and we merge into the crowd, walking toward our future, our destiny, our forever.
Because this is our story.
The CEO and the Soldier.
Always and forever.
∞
EPILOGUE
TWO YEARS LATER
FOURTH OF JULY WEEKEND
SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDWEST
EDGE
“This is taking forever,” I grumble as I honk the horn and lean on the steering wheel.
“Um, they’re stuck in traffic just like we are,” says El from the passenger seat. “Just relax. We’ll get there when we get there.”
I rub my eyes and shake my head. It’s hot even with the air-conditioning, and I’m pissed off at the traffic. I wish we’d just stayed home. Who the fuck visits Mount Rushmore on Fourth of July Weekend?!
“Americans do,” says El softly, and I frown at her, wondering if I was talking out loud.
“How do you do that?” I say, finally showing a smile as I look upon her pretty face, let my gaze drop down to her boobs that can barely stay hidden behind that stars-and-stripes tank-top that I swear is the best fucking use of the American flag I’ve ever seen.
“I can read your caveman mind,” she says with a triumphant shrug. Then she winks and giggles. “Also, you’ve been saying ‘Who the fuck visits Mount Rushmore on July Fourth’ for the last three hours.’ ”
I grin and glance up into the rearview mirror. I can see the faces of all four of our kids: Two sets of twins over the past two years, and I bet there’ll be another couple of buns in the oven after I take my curvy wife hard and fast in full view of the Founding Fathers.
Hell, I’m a Founding Father too, I think as I study the happy faces of my infant children. Two boys named Everett and Elliot. Two girls named Eloise and Elizabeth.
I glance back over at my wife, the smile breaking full on my battle-scarred, lean face. Yeah, I’m a Founding Father. I found her, and I fathered them. Makes sense.
I laugh at my private joke, reaching for the oversized McDonald’s cup with the full-sugar soda and taking a long sip from the ice-cold drink. I breathe deep and smile as the scent of burgers and baby-food invades my senses like an oncoming enemy horde.
But I love it, and as the traffic finally moves, I drive forward in our blue minivan, my wife by my side, babies safely in the back, the smell of freedom in the air.
I’m a soldier, I think as I scan my family one more time and then look away so they don’t see the tears of joy in Daddy’s steel-blue eyes, and this is what I fight for.
This is what we all fight for.
Every warrior from the beginning of time.
We fight for them.
We kill for them.
We bleed for them.
And we’d die for them.
Always and forever.
∞
Curvy for Him: The CEO and the Soldier (Curvy for Him Series Book 5) Page 8