“Perfect.”
“Listen,” I say, ready to bring up what I would have said first if she wasn’t dying for my cock. “I spoke to Darragh after you and the underboss went on your shakedown.” I take a shallow breath. “I told him I’m ready to share custody of my son. I want J.P. to grow up knowing I’m his father, not his uncle.”
Scarlett’s fingers wind through my hair. “What did he say?”
“That he and Ana want that, too.” I exhale. “But I don’t have a life like theirs. They have a nanny, housekeepers, guards, always someone around.”
“You have me,” Scarlett says. “I love you. I want to stay married, and I’m ready to pitch in wherever you need me to.”
This marriage was just supposed to give me credibility. To meet Bradley Ford’s university mandates, and to show him I’m not some reckless, single doc on the prowl without goals.
“I felt a connection with J.P.,” she whispers. “I can’t wait to get to know Sophie better, too.”
My heart stutters, violently.
“My dad was in med school when I was young,” she adds, voice strong. “He always made time for me. I can do that, too. I want to.”
She gives me that smile, the one that cracks every defense I’ve ever built.
“You’re sure?” I ask, apprehensive of her answer. “You’d be J.P.’s stepmother. His immediate family. And a part of my much larger family. Who you’ll meet eventually.”
I expect her to shudder, but one afternoon with the Bratva, she shrugs off the Irish Mob. She’ll think differently when she meets Lachlan.
“You know,” I breathe with the need to reminisce. “There was this day…at Darragh’s house in Seattle. We were under attack, and the house was surrounded by men with guns. We locked ourselves in the safe room. Sophie, who’s severely allergic and can have an episode at any moment, didn’t have her EpiPen there. I was ready to bolt into the gunfire just to get her one.”
Scarlett’s lip trembles.
“But Ana…” I choke on the memory. “She put J.P. in my arms. Told meheneeded me. He was only a week old. That moment, feeling his tiny heartbeat against my chest changed everything. Next, I was in an Irish prison camp cell, shaking and hallucinating, focusing on what I was doing it for. The right to hold my son again. J.P. got me through it.”
Scarlett presses her forehead to mine, tears sliding down and landing warm onto my skin. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers. “You saved yourself. For him.”
“For us,” I say, voice low and rough.
This should just be a happy-ever-after moment. She knows every terrible thing about me.
Except one. And the words are already lodged in my throat.
Scarlett needs to know the final piece to me. The last sin to confess.
If what I did to Ana, how I didn’t want J.P. at first, isn’tenough to make this woman despise me, telling her I’m the Hot-Shot Killer the FBI is looking for is the final test.
It’s now or never.
“Scarlett…” I start carefully. “There’s one last thing you need to know.”
She lifts her head, eyes alert in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
I pull up my pants and help her get dressed before we deal with something this serious.
“Come with me.” I lead her out of the office and down the short hall to the closet I keep locked.
The last locked door between us.
Chapter 51
Scarlett
There’s one last thing you need to know…