Page 136 of Faded Gray Lines

The smile in his eyes held me prisoner. They weren’t hardened or shrouded in secrets. Quite the opposite. As they roamed over every inch of my face, I lost myself in their raw honesty. When I gazed into them, all I saw was the love I’d waited four years to reclaim.

Our lips met in a kiss both tender and combustible. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulled my legs until I straddled him, and I deepened the kiss. The sheet slipped down his thighs, his cock already hard against my ass. In just a few touches, slickness had built between my legs, but that wasn’t what this was about.

This was about a promise. This is my need to prove to him that he could walk beside me in his world as my husband—not in front of me as my shield.

“Leighton.” He groaned low and primitive as I raised my hips and slowly guided him inside me. It was instinctive for Mateo to take control—to grasp my hips and thrust upward until my body obeyed him. But this time, he held onto my hips, calling out my name through thinly held restraint as I slowly rode him. I gripped his chest as a spark lit in my stomach and ignited into an out of control flame.

Mateo’s face contorted, and I knew he felt it too. We were no longer Leighton and Mateo. We were a force in this world—one no one could ever break again.

“I love you, Matty,” I whispered as I lowered onto him one last time and splintered apart.

My release prompted his, and he gritted his teeth through a guttural groan. Neither of us moved. We stared at each other with silent words not needing to be vocalized.

Except for four.

“Te amo, Star,”he said, weaving his hands through my hair and bringing my lips to his.“Siempre.”

I love you, Star. Forever.

EPILOGUE TWO

Leighton

Mexico City, Mexico

Four Months Later

“Don’t go too far,” Mateo called out as Stella followed a group of older children around the grounds of Val’s estate.

“Sí, papá,” she called over her shoulder.

“You know, English is her first language,” I said, sipping my fourth margarita.

Mateo laughed, not taking his eyes off her as she struggled to keep up with the herd of kids. “Not anymore.”

Sixteen weeks ago, Santiago Nash Carrera came into the world upside down and backward. Ironically, Eden found it hilarious while Val continuously threatened the entire hospital with slow and torturous deaths during her C-section.

Eight weeks ago, Eden argued like a seasoned litigator when Val postponed Santi’s traditional baptismal celebration. He’d read an article online about C-section recovery and swore she needed more time to heal. I had to hand it to her; she put up a good fight, but logic didn’t stand a chance against the unshakable trifecta of a cartel boss, overprotective husband, and new father. Eventually, she gave in, and as Santi’smadrina, I helped her plan a new party from scratch.

Speaking of parties...

When Mateo told me that traditional Mexican baptisms were all-night parties, he wasn’t kidding. By midnight, my feet hurt, and I was half-drunk. Even though the crowd had thinned out a little, Val and Mateo’s trusted lieutenants and their families still roamed the grounds of the Carrera estate toasting to Santi, Val, Eden, the cartel, themselves, the decorations, their shoes...hell, a few of them were so drunk they were chugging cups of salsa, swearing it was sangria.

“So, I was thinking,” he said, taking my hand in his, “we’ve been in Mexico for seven months now. Stella seems to love it here, and I think she’s used to the idea that I’m her father.”

I nodded. “Kids are resilient.”

“She’s still young, Leighton. If we did it now, I don’t think she’d remember anything different.”

His statement caught me off guard, and I stared at the determination in his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“Her name.” Lifting our joined hands, he motioned to where Stella still played. “She isn’t a Harcourt, and now you aren’t either. It doesn’t make any sense for her to have a different last name.”

“You want to change her name to Estella Cortes?”

“Yes, I do.” He pushed his shoulders back and inhaled, preparing for a fight, but my answer came without hesitation.

“I agree. Let’s do it.”

The shock on his face was priceless. “That’s it? No arguing?”

“Nah.” I grinned. “I’m trying on compromise for size. It’s a tight fit, but I’ll see how it goes.”

We stood in silence as Stella ran around giggling. After a few moments, Mateo wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.

“Do you miss home, Mrs. Cortes?”

Home. It’d been a four-letter word to me for so long—a line in the sand drawn by betrayal, faded with time, and grayed with resentment. Until one man changed everything.

Tilting my head back, I gazed at the thousands of stars blanketing the Mexican sky. “Not anymore.” I smiled. “He came back for me.”