It was time to get myself together. I closed and locked my suitcase, looked around the tidily stacked boxes, and made sure the lights were off and everything was unplugged.
I was inventing things to do to delay leaving.
I closed the door, double-checked the lock, grabbed my suitcase, and headed downstairs.
When I reached the lobby, John was coming through the doors from the Strip.
I froze.
He didn’t.
He marched over to me and took my suitcase from my hand, not asking, just ordering. “You can’t go anywhere today.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Honestly, I tried to be offended, outraged, indignant. But inside, not even that deep down, I was gleeful and giddy.
Because he was here.
Because he’d stopped me from leaving.
Because he sounded like after-dark John when he growled like that. I wanted nothing more than to hear that growl and know it was for me. All mine.
He carried my suitcase to the elevator.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
The suitcase hit the floor with a thump as he dropped it and turned to me, putting his hands on my shoulders and running them down to my fingers, then up again to cup the back of my neck.
“Please stay. I want you to stay. Stay with me because I’m lost without you. Because I love you and I hope to God you’re in love with me too.”
My heart flew, beating too fast, winging away. That was all I’d wanted—for him to ask me to stay.
I pressed my lips to his, whispering against his mouth, “I’m so in love with you too.”
He drew me closer for a quick, hot kiss. Then he stroked my cheek possessively. “So, you’re staying. Here. With me. And I’m going to give you everything I can while I can. If that’s not enough, then . . . we’ll figure it out.”
“Figure it out . . . on the fly?” I gave an exaggerated gasp. “You, Detective John Winston? I’ll have to see it to believe it.”
“Believe it,” he promised in a gravelly rumble. His hand slipped around my waist and held me close. “I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do when I got here. I just drove and hoped I’d figure it out before I did something stupid like let you leave without knowing that I wanted you to stay. I didn’t want to let you get away. I don’t ever want you to get away from me.”
Wrapping my arms around him, I confessed, “I was almost stupid enough to leave.”
“But you’re here.” A soft, butterfly-weight kiss.
“I’m here.” And being here required more kissing. Lots more kissing.
I tugged him close, sweeping my lips over his, stepping onto this brand-new path with a kiss and a promise, and he made me one in return.
“If you really want the job in New York, we’ll make long-distance work until we figure out something better. But I don’t want you to go.” He kissed me again and again, as if trying to convince me when I’d already decided. “I want you to stay. You’re so good to me. You get me. You understand me.” He rubbed my arms as if he could tell I was cold everywhere he wasn’t touching. “I can be that for you, Mindy. I want to be enough of a reason for you to stay in Vegas, and if you do, I can help you figure out where you want to go from here. Will you let me?”
“You’ll be enough,” I whispered. “You are enough. You and I together will always be enough.”
I didn’t know what I’d be doing about the job other than obviously giving it up.
But this was worth it. We were worth it. He was my partner, and we’d put our heads together and figure it out.
But first, there would be staying-together sex.
And when he took me up to the bedroom, stripped me to nothing, and pinned me, I counted that—his passion—as another damn good reason for staying.
Epilogue
Mindy
* * *
A few weeks later
* * *
Ajax bounded across the dog park to greet me with the kind of tail-wagging, playful-bowing, tongue-swiping joy that only a dog can manage.
Right behind the beagle was Ryan, also headed my way. I started to crack a joke about the life lesson of appreciating a drool-slimed tennis ball, but a look at his face changed my mind. He hadn’t called me here to joke around. His brows knitted with stress or worry, and something serious flitted through his eyes.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Is Sophie okay? Is she in labor?”
He nodded, then shook his head. “Yes, everything is okay; no, she’s not in labor. As of five minutes ago, at least.”
I scratched Ajax behind the ears as the dog sat beside me. “So, it’s really any minute now, huh?”
Another nod, more decisive this time, a tired grin showing through the clouds of whatever had brought him here. “My first kid is coming. Our first kid. God willing, the first of many.”
“I know I’m job hunting, but my nannying days are behind me,” I said playfully.
Something seemed to strike him as ironic there. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Nannying?”
“Not exactly.” Ajax pawed the ball he’d dropped politely, reminding us about it. “It is about work though. With Michael being out of town half the year, and with business booming, it’s become harder for me to devote all the time I need to our local clients.”
I stood up straighter, just like Ajax did when he spotted his ball. If I had ears like his, they’d prick forward. I had a sense where this was headed, and it was hard to hold back a grin.
“Plus, you’re about to have a little bundle of distraction in the house,” I pointed out. “Another bundle of distraction,” I added as Ryan picked up the tennis ball and threw it for the dog.
“You nailed it exactly.” Ryan stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’m kicking myself for not realizing this sooner, but, Mindy, you’d be a terrific partner in the business. And there is that rumor on the street that you might be available.”
I tried to contain my glee. This was the perfect gig—working with people I respected, doing the job I loved, in the city I called home.
As a partner.
There was no playing it cool.
“I accept,” I said, extending a hand to shake on the deal before anything could change his mind.
Though it wouldn’t, because yeah, I would be an excellent partner.
Ryan laughed. “You don’t want to hear the terms?”
“Of course I do, but I’m going to accept.”
Shaking his head, he picked up the ball Ajax had brought back. “That’s a terrible negotiating tactic.”
As we strolled through the park, he outlined what he was thinking in terms of the partnership, and he already looked less stressed. Even if I hadn’t shown my hand immediately, this was such an obvious fit that my yes was just a formality.
I had a very good feeling about today. Today, and a lot of days going forward. It was a gorgeous afternoon, the park was full of snouts and tails and optimism, and it seemed like all the reasons why I was meant to be here, to stay here, lay in front of me. I knew it wouldn’t stay that way, but at that moment, my path was as clear as the sidewalk leading to the gate of the off-leash area.
Sophie waited just on the other side of the fence. Ryan was texting—telling Michael what we’d agreed—and didn’t seem to immediately notice the way she leaned a white-knuckled hand against a fencepost for support.
“Ryan,” I said, nudging him to encourage him to look up. “I think your moment is here.”
Sophie’s eyes connected with her husband’s, and the whole story played out in a look. Here we go. Our next adventure. You and me, in it together.
Timing really was everything.
“Go on, partner.” I gave him another elbow bump. “I’ll take care of your dog.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t meet my eyes as he rushed out the gates—he only had eyes for his wife.
He hurried over to Sophie. Taking her hand and elbow, he guided
her toward the parking lot, telling her the hospital bag was in the car.
Oh boy. I hoped they weren’t in the Aston Martin.
Ajax trotted to the gate then looked back to me, figuring things out. I picked up the slimy tennis ball, and he loped over. The holder of the ball had authority, it seemed.
We went to find John standing with some volunteers from K-9 Buddies and, more importantly, some of their dogs.
This had been John’s idea, formed after our running into retired K-9 Sergeant Jackson and his person. A two-birds-one-stone idea. The meet-and-greet would raise awareness about the service-dog adoption program as the volunteers conducted some education on safety—how to approach a strange dog and the importance of training. Things that a responsible dog person should know, whether they owned a dog or not.
Plus, the dogs got to interact with people and socialize with non-working dogs, and there was nothing like watching an all-business dog learn how to play.
Tossing the ball for Ajax, I sidled up to John, who introduced a retired lieutenant colonel to me. She squatted down by a gray-muzzled doggo, scratching his belly with a gleam in her eye, like a teenager spotting a boy band.
Pretty sure John had a hidden talent as a dog matchmaker.
He tugged me over to the big-dog area and pointed out the dogs romping there. I spotted a shepherd mix with markings like spectacles. He was calmly and intently watching as Sergeant Jackson and Ajax tussled, the three-legged dog holding his own just fine.
“Who’s that?” I pointed to the serious dog on the edge of the group.
“That is Holmes.”
He didn’t offer any elaboration. “As in, Sherlock?”
“I’m not sure. He was with a K-9 police officer. Retired early because he got cataracts.”
So, the spectacles were ironic? The universe was a strange place.
“Can surgery fix that?” I asked.
“The shelter is hoping to raise money to cover it.”
Just then, a gleeful Ajax jumped onto Holmes, and I held my breath, worried that there would be a fight to break up. But Ajax made a play-bow to Holmes with his slimy ball between his feet. Holmes looked unconvinced about the offer. He moved closer. The dogs circled, sniffing tails, and—
Fake out! Holmes grabbed the ball and ran off with it, and Ajax gave chase.
I laughed. “Oh my God. Did you see that? That dog has some game.”
John’s mouth curved into a huge grin, and he couldn’t take his eyes off Holmes. “Yeah, he does. I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of it.”
Because he had game too.
And obviously, Holmes was coming home with us.
It had been a day for adding to families.
The next afternoon, we visited John’s niece in the hospital.
I tried not to play favorites with my nieces, but Isabelle Sloan was the most adorable baby I’d ever seen.
Especially in John’s arms.
That might contribute just a bit to my bias, because I couldn’t stop thinking how good he looked like that, holding a tiny creature who needed him.
Oh hell, heart. You need to settle down.
We adopted a dog yesterday. We still hadn’t arranged our combined furniture in the condo. Every choice we’d made, it was clear, so clear, that it was the right one.
But babies were a different story.
Or maybe not.
Because a few weeks later, after four days of queasiness and an offhand joke from John, I picked up a test at the drugstore. And once I convinced John that I was not joking, I did what I needed to do.
He waited with me, watching the stick like it was a suspect about to break a case wide open. Finally, it turned.
The evidence?
Two pink lines.
I gasped, and John? Well, his face lit up with the biggest smile I’d ever seen.
I hadn’t planned on this.
We hadn’t planned on this.
But I hadn’t planned on getting fired or chucking a perfectly adequate job offer in order to stay with the man I’d fallen in love with either.
His expression, his radiant happiness, told me the unexpected was worth it. The baby was unplanned and completely wanted, late nights and long hours be damned.
“We’re having a baby,” he said in wonder. Then he slid me a sheepish look and admitted, “I was hoping it’d be positive.”
“You were?”
Just like I love you, it surprised me until he said it, and then it seemed so obvious.
He smiled. “I was. I never thought I’d say that, but the second you felt sick to your stomach, I was hoping this was why.”
So his joke hadn’t been a joke so much as a wish.
Same here.
Because as soon as I saw those lines, I knew I wanted this as much as if we’d planned it.
He drew me in for a kiss, consuming my lips with a whole new wave of possessiveness.
When he let go, he nodded toward the door and the world outside our bubble.
“What do you say to marrying me tonight?”
I knew exactly how to answer. “I say yes.”
Another Epilogue
Mindy
* * *
Five years later
* * *
I pulled into the parking lot of the Thomas Paige Memorial Library with my husband, who immediately hopped out and opened the car’s back door to undo the seat belt for Amelia and then for her younger brother, Jackson.
It was storytime, and Amelia never wanted to miss a word.
I didn’t either, because it was a chance for all the kids to see each other. One of many, but we never took any opportunity for granted.
I hoisted my son onto my hip. “This little guy is getting bigger by the second.”
John took Amelia’s hand and looked both ways before we all crossed the parking lot. “Good. We can make him start walking the dogs soon.”
“I like walking the dogs,” Amelia said.
“Me too,” Jackson chimed in. If his big sister liked something, it was a sure bet he’d like it as well.
We went inside the library and found our friends and family in the children’s section, where Brent and Shannon sat in beanbags while their three kids scampered through the shelves. Where Colin wandered among the books with his seven-year-old daughter, a girl he and Elle had adopted from foster care. Where Sophie, in a peach dress, cooed at baby Olivia, their third daughter, and my business partner Ryan had parked himself in a kid-size chair that somehow held his weight as he read a book to his two older girls.
Michael and Annalise wandered in after John and me. They didn’t have kids of their own, but that was by choice. They were perfectly content with each other, they’d said, and they had no shortage of nieces and nephews who they loved spending time with.
My throat hitched with happiness.
The groundbreaking five years ago for this library had set so much of my new, wonderful life into motion. That day stood for all I had hoped my friends and now my family would enjoy.
Peace, love, and happiness.
The Sloans had come far.
And so had I. From that moment, I’d come into a new chance, a new love, and a new family all my own.
This man had once been my sinful temptation, and now he was my friend, my lover, and my husband.
He was mine, always.
And even though sometimes he worked long hours, and sometimes he was stressed, and sometimes—well, oftentimes—I worried about him, it was worth it.
Loving was always worth it.
* * *
THE END
Sign up for my newsletter to make sure you don’t miss my next new book! DEAR SEXY EX BOYFRIEND is coming soon and it’s a hilarious and sexy best-friends-to-lovers fake fiancé romance that you’ll devour! Preorder it everywhere at a discount!
* * *
* * *
Let me just say -- none of this was supposed to happen.
I didn't expect the letter to go viral. I didn't think anyon
e would figure out who Dear Sexy Ex was. And I especially never thought he would find out about it.
Yeah, bit of a miscalculation there.
But see, I need the money to fund my brand new venture. And Dear Sexy Ex, well, it turns out he needs me to save his business.
By becoming his fake fiancee.
Yup, that's the pickle I find myself in -- pretending to be madly in love with the charming, brilliant, and utterly infuriating man known as Dear Sexy Ex.
Only, it's not an act. And he can never know.
* * *
Preorder DEAR SEXY EX-BOYFRIEND everywhere at a preorder discount!
Also by Lauren Blakely
FULL PACKAGE, the #1 New York Times Bestselling romantic comedy!
* * *
BIG ROCK, the hit New York Times Bestselling standalone romantic comedy!
* * *
THE SEXY ONE, a New York Times Bestselling standalone romance!
* * *
THE KNOCKED UP PLAN, a multi-week USA Today and Amazon Charts Bestselling standalone romance!
* * *
MOST VALUABLE PLAYBOY, a sexy multi-week USA Today Bestselling sports romance! And its companion sports romance, MOST LIKELY TO SCORE!
* * *
WANDERLUST, a USA Today Bestselling contemporary romance!
* * *
COME AS YOU ARE, a Wall Street Journal and multi-week USA Today Bestselling contemporary romance!
* * *
PART-TIME LOVER, a multi-week USA Today Bestselling contemporary romance!
My Sinful Temptation Page 9