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Page 105 of Property of Tacoma

“I love you,” I murmur against his lips.

“I love you too, Angel. So fucking much.”

We stay like that for a long moment, just holding each other, letting the reality of everything sink in.

We’re getting married.

We’re having a baby.

This is really happening.

“We need to go upstairs and celebrate,” Tacoma says, his voice dropping to that low, growly tone that makes my toes curl.

“You have a one-track mind.”

“Can you blame me?” He stands, scooping me up bridal style. “My woman just told me she’s having my baby and agreed to marry me. I need to show her exactly how that makes me feel.”

“Oh yeah?” I wrap my arms around his neck. “And how’s that?”

“Like I’m the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet.”

He carries me up the stairs, his lips never leaving mine, and I can’t help but smile against his mouth.

This life—this beautiful, chaotic, perfect life—is mine.

With a man who loves me fiercely.

Kids who’ve become mine in every way that matters.

A family.

A home.

As Tacoma kicks open the bedroom door and lays me down on our bed, one thought echoes through my mind.

There’s no place like home.

THE END