She beams. “What would I do without you?”
“Lose a lot of jewelry,” I quip, and she laughs, moving back into the bathroom to get dressed.
But the real question is, what would I do without her? It’s something I hope to never find out. The relief that hasn’t abated since Cage killed Borovsky means I’ll cherish every day with her.
The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of me healing, adjusting to a new life, and being grateful every day for all the amazing people in it. My incredible team who put their lives on the line to save me and protect Jess.
Cage, in particular, who, without hesitation, shot Borovsky dead. The shooting was investigated and found to be self-defense since Borovsky—a convicted murderer of children—lunged at Cage with a knife. But still, it’s a risk when you take the law into your own hands, and Cage acted without thought to the consequences he might face. I can never repay that, because it has eliminated the threat posed by Borovsky permanently. The FBI—through their informants—are confident that Jess is safe now. Borovsky’s vendetta against her was personal and while the family had no problem in helping in his escape, they were not going to be pursuing things further.
Still, we’re vigilant and I’m teaching Jess how to shoot a gun.
Bottom line, though, with Borovsky dead, it’s allowed Jess and Thea to lead a free life, and it has made all my dreams come true.
I’ve settled into a new life here in Miami, sharing JJ’s house with her and Thea. At first, it was nothing more than rest and relaxation so I could recover from the injuries Borovsky and his men inflicted. The stitches on my front and back came out four days ago, leaving vivid scarring against my dark skin. Jess caresses and kisses them tenderly and tells me how sexy they are. I don’t know if she’s pulling my leg, but they are a permanent part of who I am and a daily reminder of my priorities.
Jess and Thea.
It’s why I’m relocating to Miami to start my life with my new family. JJ and I sat down with Thea and had a frank conversation about the feelings we have for each other, that I was going to be living with them, and while I’m still Uncle Dozer, I’m hopeful that sooner rather than later, she’ll call me Daddy. For now, it’s enough that I think she’s more excited than Jess to have me in the house.
As for Jameson, I’m still gainfully employed with them. I mean, how could I ever leave a company—no, a family—who put their lives on the line for me and Jess? There were serious discussions about where we should live—here or Pittsburgh—but Jess really loves her job, and Claire is here, and really… I want a relationship with my father.
So, the solution—thanks to Kynan and his entrepreneurial spirit—is to open a Miami office, which I will run. Right now, said office is really just my laptop on the dining room table, but Kynan is hoping to buy some property and outfit it within the next few months. I’ll still commute now and again to Pittsburgh, but that’s not Kynan requiring it. So many in that office are my family, too, and I need time with them.
Especially Bebe. While she’s happy for my happiness, she’s sad to lose her lab partner and closest friend. I suggested perhaps she borrow Camille’s plane more often and come visit me here. Camille, by the way, was in no way put out by Bebe’s white lie about her destination, and once she learned the truth behind it was very forgiving. I’m sure she’d let Bebe use the plane on another occasion if she so requested.
Jess walks out of the bathroom again. I stand near the dresser and watch her drop the robe and put on her bra. She has no shame prancing around me naked, for which I’m eternally grateful. It’s a feast for my eyes to watch her do something as simple as pull a dress from the closet and slip it over her head. She smooths it over her hips and twirls. “Do you like it?”
It’s a light peach confection, fitted through the bodice and floaty around her legs, coming down just below her knees. “You’re stunning.”
“Of course I am,” she teases and twirls again. “But what about the dress?”
“It’s okay,” I tease back, moving to take her in my arms. “Let’s see how it moves.”
We dance slowly, not pressed into each other but in a waltz where I twirl her around. We laugh, and before she pulls away so she can put on her heels, I kiss her hand.
Her left hand, to be specific. Just at the knuckle, below which a large diamond ring sits.
When I was released from the hospital, about midday following Borovsky’s death, I headed straight to a jewelry store. Jess thought I was nuts, but I dragged her in and let her pick out a ring. It wasn’t very traditional, but considering I hollered from an ambulance gurney that she start on our wedding plans, it seemed appropriate.