The Last Guy

“It was for old times’ sake.” His lips are at the top of my head, and I tighten my arm over his. “Fuck shots. I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”

My entire body heats, and I turn so I can face him. “I’ll never forget a moment of this. Not as long as I live.” Our eyes meet, and I can’t hold back any more. “I love you, Cade Hill.”

Warmth fills his blue gaze, and he leans forward, capturing my lips with his. My mouth opens, and his tongue finds mine, teasing gently, claiming definitively. Cade Hill is my man. He’s my prince. He’s my Star-Lord, and I can’t even begin to understand how it happened.

“It’s positive,” he says, pulling back.

“What?” I’m slightly dazed and my lips are warm and well kissed.

“The Beatles song. It’s positive. We should make more love. Then there’s more love to take.”

My nose wrinkles. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

He reaches up to cup my cheek, and all signs of humor leave his face. “I remember everything about you . . . every minute, every laugh, every sigh, every moan. I love you, Rebecca.”

He’s never said my name that way, thick and heated. I have to blink fast. I don’t want to cry, but . . . Shit, I’m going to cry.

His dark brow lowers. “What’s wrong?”

Joy so strong it hurts fills my chest, expanding my lungs. “I’ve never known this kind of happy. I didn’t know it existed . . .”

That dimple I love pierces his cheek as he smiles. He leans down and gives me another, longer kiss. I reach up to hold his face as we melt into each other, as our hearts move together in time.

His lips trace my cheek, brushing against my ear. “We should make more love now.”

Laughter bubbles in my throat, and I stretch my body against his. “You won’t get any arguments from me.”

It’s out of this world how life can change on a dime. I’d gone from frustrated, ready to give up, to one stupid, wasted night that turned out to be the luckiest break of my life . . .

With the last guy I ever expected . . .

Right here, on this planet, making all my dreams come true.

Cade

ONE YEAR LATER

I WAKE UP at the crack of dawn, way before I have to be at work, and Stone’s curled up next to me, her soft naked body glued to mine. She’s snoring delicately, and I grin and pull her even closer if that’s possible. She’d moved in to the penthouse about six months ago and every single day when I wake up next to her, a sense of rightness settles in my chest.

She stretches out and mutters something about tacos, giving me a view of the curve of her hips and those luscious tits. My girl is so hot she could sell bikinis during a snowstorm. She’s fucking perfect with her creamy skin and long wavy hair. With a light touch, my hand traces the line of freckles on her nose, and she waves her hand in the air like she’s swatting a fly. She flips over on her stomach, and her arm flings out, smacking me in the face.

Still, she doesn’t wake up.

I chuckle.

A bit zany, compassionate, funny, and crazy in the sack, I’m lucky she loves my ass—literally. She’s in love with my tight, muscular backside, and me, of course. I grin again, my permanent expression since we’d made up and she’d finalized her contract with KHOT, making her the nightly co-anchor with Matt and me.

I think back to everything that’s happened over the past year. Marv had been fired and is now working as one of those goofball consultants he loves to listen to so much. Lots of travel and he was low man on the totem pole. Fitting. Savannah had resigned and is currently working at the Gap.

Trent still works for Dad and is branching out to start new charities for other inner-city schools. He and Dad did some counseling to hash out the hateful things in their past. Their relationship isn’t a miracle turnaround—I didn’t expect it to be—but they do love each other and want to have each other in their lives.

Coach Hart and Cheetah won the high school football championships this past November, and part of me likes to think we all played a part in getting that trophy.

My phone buzzes on silent, and I scoop it up off the nightstand as I sit up on the side of the bed. It’s Chas.

Morning, Killer. Hope your ass is awake. I’m tapping my heels in your lobby. Don’t you think it’s time you gave me a key?

Shit. She’s early. Jerking up, I slip on last night’s hastily discarded football shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms I have to dig out of the drawer. It takes several minutes to find a pair because with Stone around, we’re naked most of the time.

I slip out of the bedroom and head to the front door. Killer is nipping at my toes the entire way, but I ignore her and exit the apartment. I hop in the elevator and ride down to the lobby.

The door opens, and I see Chas leaning against a marble column. The doorman is eyeing her fishnet hose, spiked red heels, and mini-skirt with a steely gaze. She straightens and swishes toward me holding the ends of a black cloak with a high fur collar.

I wave at the doorman. “She’s with me, Bobby. Next time send her on up if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Mr. Hill.” He gives me a short nod and turns back to the double-glassed doors, his expression blank.

“You’re early—and very dramatic,” I say.

She shrugs her tall frame in an effortless way as she makes her way over to me, the ends of the cloak flapping behind her. “Had to. Found out last night I have a face-to-face meeting with the bigwigs at Bloomingdale’s. Happened rather suddenly to be honest.”

“Makeup, I assume?”

She nods, a hint of nerves on her face—something I’ve never seen. “According to the voicemail they left me yesterday, they adore my new line of eye shadow.”

I’m not surprised. Since we’d met, I’ve learned Chas’s work ethic is mostly work your ass off until you get someone to say yes. “You deserve it,” I say. “With those million hits on YouTube of you using your product, you can name your price.”

She purses her lips. “Mercury is in retrograde again, and my horoscope did say I would make my fortune this month.”

I laugh. Chas is Stone’s number one friend, which is why I’d enlisted her help with picking up a special package for me yesterday when I’d realized I wouldn’t be able to make the final pickup because I had to work late—with Stone.

“Do you have it?”

Chas nods and passes it to me. I take it, my hands suddenly sweaty. My heart somersaults as I peek inside.

“You gonna hurl?”

I tear my eyes off the gift—the one I’d carefully designed and selected months ago after Stone and I had come back from our spring break trip to Hawaii. “Maybe.”

She studies me carefully and then after a few tics, her head does a quick bobble. “It doesn’t take a palm reading to see you guys are written in the stars. I knew it the second you walked in the Pussycat Club. Forever and ever, Amen.”

I feel light-headed but squash it down. “Yeah,” I say and start backing toward the elevator. I’m anxious to get back to Stone. I don’t want her knowing anything about what I have planned. “Uh, good luck today. Let us know how it goes.”

She’s already turning to the door and sending me a jaunty little wave. “Bye, Star-Lord.”

I head back up to the penthouse, hop in the shower, and dress. Stone is still sacked out, and I know it’s because we were up until the wee hours of the morning making love. I have a shit ton of work waiting on me, so I dress quietly, writing her a quick note before I walk out the door.