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“I don’t have time for kids,” he muttered.

“Ever heard of a condom, asshole?”

He rolled his eyes, and I lost it. I punched his face.

He jumped from his seat, charging at me even with cuffed hands.

“That hit was for Kiera. This one is for her mother.” The second punch broke his nose. “And this one is for Yolanda. You and your fucking organization brainwashed her.”

He dropped to the ground. “Who the hell is Kiera?”

“The daughter you don’t deserve.”

With that, I left him to the authorities and headed to the clinic to see my love.

CHAPTERSEVENTY

KIERA

While Forrest worked in the greenhouse, I sat at my desk in my spacious office—a room I recently decorated inside Forrest’s home. I organized the greeting cards that were delivered by the printing company. I’d ordered a few copies of each to send to Grandma Morena. She’d asked that I address her that way before she returned to Texas last week.

It had been two weeks since the awful incident that almost killed me. But it was that near-death experience that showed me the abundance of love around me. I didn’t know if I’d have survived if I hadn’t heard Forrest calling me. I could have easily been lost in the darkness,never finding my way back to him.

When I’d regained consciousness and saw my mom and Grandma Morena, I cried with them. They’d taken wonderful care of me, especially when I tried Forrest’s new medication.

Though the taste could be improved, the medication was a lifesaver. I recovered faster than when I had the flu. I was healthier now than I’d ever been. It boosted my body, instantly improving my energy.

That was proof that nature could heal any ailments. We just had to find the right blend.

The hammering stopped, and I grabbed a gift box I’d wrapped earlier and headed toward the back room. Forrest was expanding the indoor greenhouse that connected to the outdoor one. He’d bought more plants, and the area looked like a little forest. I loved it.

Last night, he showed me Goddess K, a character I had inspired in Level Four of his video game. She looked like me, dressed in beautifully sophisticated clothing. She grew these unbelievable Agoona fruits, which had magical blood that could heal people. He blew my mind with all the details that went into the game.

I stood in the doorway and acknowledged how lucky I was to be loved by him—to call this perfect man mine. He stood shirtless, with ripped jeans sitting low on his hips. He toweled the sweat from his face, neck, and chest while gulping down a jug of water. Every movement he made, his taut muscles flexed, arousing the hell out of me.

“Don’t move,” I said.

I set the gift box down on the table with the tools, pulled out my cell phone from the back pocket of my jeans, and snapped a photo of my BaMBu Beast. The image rendered him a sophisticated farmer, hunky doctor, and spectacular lover.

He tossed the towel aside, arched an eyebrow, and raked his eyes down my body, sending a sizzle through me. “Miss me?”

In three steps he stood in front of me, pulling me into him. He smelled of earth, masculinity, and security.

“Always. I love you.” I looped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair, which needed a trim. But that could wait another week. The long hair reminded me of our beginning—how I’d inspired him to grow it out.

He kissed me lightly. “I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

He poked my ribs, and I squealed with laughter.

“According to that journal you love, there’s no such thing as impossible.”

I poked him back. “Glad you remembered.”

“Are you done with the greeting cards?”

“Wanna see?” I grabbed the gift box.