She’s fine.
Perfect, even.
I, on the other hand, still flinch every time someone closes a door too loudly.
Tate survived, thankfully. Smoke inhalation, concussion, bruised ribs—but alive. He’s taking four weeks off, but he’llbe back before our little princess is born. Security is still tight, but now Jack O’Connor is dead, we all sleep a little easier.
Nico and Felstead were lucky they were out of the building, thanks to my peanut butter cravings.
I finally let myself exhale.
I’m safe.
Our daughter is safe.
And the man who carried me out of hell hasn’t let go of me since.
Jack O’Connor’s sons were located in his underground lair in the woods. What the Gardaí discovered beneath the woodland clearing looked less like a makeshift hideout and more like a bunker built by a man who had spentyears preparing to burn our world down—exactly as he threatened he would.
A shudder rips over my spine.
‘You okay, sweetheart?’ Cole’s voice is soft—too soft for a man who usually speaks in blunt demands.
I turn to face him. Concern lights his cool blue eyes. His full lips purse into a tight line. He’s still absolutely livid about Jack’s attempt on my life, on our baby girl’s life, even though he put a bullet in his head. I swear he wishes he could bring him back so he could kill him again—slowly.
I drink in his strong shoulders, perfectly sculpted by a casual polo shirt. The urge to touch them torments me. His lips lift into a small smile as he crosses the room and hands me a mug of tea. He doesn’t need to play barista. Magda, my housekeeper, and Helen, his housekeeper have agreed to job share. They practically argue over which one of them gets to fuss over me. So there’s really no need for my billionaire boyfriend to make me Barry’s Tea with a splash of milk.
‘Yes,’ I murmur, even though the truth is… I’m still not entirely sure what “okay” feels like anymore.
‘Come here,’ he whispers, turning me towards the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The evening sun is low, the sky smeared in soft golds and powdered pinks. The Irish Sea churns rhythmically beneath the cliff, waves rolling over one another in slow silver curls. A fishing boat hums along the horizon, the sound faint, comforting.
Skerries has never looked more beautiful.
We stand there silently, wrapped up in each other, letting that shifting, shimmering view rinse away the memories I’m trying my darndest not to replay.
‘You scared the shit out of me, Zara,’ he murmurs, lowering his forehead to my temple. ‘I thought I’d lost you. And the baby.’
‘I thought I’d lost you too,’ I whisper back.
He turns me fully then, hands cupping my face. His eyes blaze with something fierce and tender simultaneously. That familiar Cole Hartmann intensity—the kind that makes me feel like he would take on the whole world with just his bare hands if it meant protecting us.
His hands lift to sweep a strand of hair from my cheek. His thumb lingers at my jaw like he’s memorising every millimetre of my face. ‘Do you want to hear something really crazy?’ he asks softly.
‘Tell me.’
‘I knew something was up.’ He doesn’t need to explain when. I know exactly what he’s referring to. ‘I got this weird tightness in my chest. It happened to me before.’ He swallows hard. ‘When my father had a heart attack. I know it sounds weird, but I swear, it’s like an instinct or something.’
He drops an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him. ‘It’s not weird. It’s how you’ve got so far in life, listening to that gut instinct. It’s like a sixth sense. I sort ofhave one when it comes to you,’ I admit, brushing a kiss over his full warm lips.
‘In what way?’ His hands gravitate to my stomach, to our baby girl.
‘Like when we were in the Dominican, and I didn’t even know you, I felt your presence before I saw you. Whenever you were near, I just… knew.’ I reach up to wrap my hand around the base of his neck, holding the mug tightly with the other hand. ‘And sometimes, when I think of you, you text—like that second. How’s that for weird?’ I tease.
‘I don’t think it’s weird. I think it’s proof that we were meant to be,’ he murmurs.
‘Did you ever get it with anyone else?’ I’m not jealous, I’m just curious.
