“Took my back,” he whispered and I tried to move to lift my head but his fingers tightened on my neck and I stayed were I was. “On the move, rushin’, outta breath to cover me.”

“Ty –”

“I love you, Lexie.”

My heart skipped and warmth flooded through me.

“Ty –”

His hand gave me a squeeze and he cut me off, whispering, “Love you, baby.”

His hand moved then, sifting then fisting in my hair, I lifted my head and he guided it to his mouth where he kissed me, hard, wet and very deep.

When he released my mouth, he didn’t release the hold on my hair and pressed in so my forehead touched his and I looked up close into his beautiful, curly-lashed eyes.

“You know,” I whispered, my hand sliding up his chest to wrap around the side of his neck, “I love you too.”

“On the move, rushin’, outta breath to cover me,” he repeated. “Yeah, babe, I know.”

I smiled at him.

Then, still whispering, I said, “I gotta go clean up.”

To that, his fist loosened in my hair but his big hand cupped the back of my head and pressed my face in his neck, I felt his jaw slide down my hair and in my ear, he murmured, “Don’t like losin’ your pu**y.”

“Honey –”

“Let me keep it a minute.”

What could I do?

I did the only thing I could, not that it was a hardship, I gave in on an, “Okay.”

His arm around me gave me a squeeze and I rested against his big, solid warmth for awhile until his arm gave me another squeeze, lightly lifting me up and I got his message.

I kissed his neck, rolled off him and exited the bed. Then I went to the bathroom, cleaned up and wandered out to see Ty hadn’t moved except to pull the covers over his lower half. He was still in bed, back to the headboard, lights on at both nightstands, his eyes on me.

I moved to my panties, tugged them on then tagged his Team Walker t-shirt that I’d flung on the end of the bed with mine. I pulled it on and when I got my head and arms through and was yanking it down, I caught his eyes to see his lips twitch.

“So, will you wear it in town?” I asked.

“Mr. Humongo?” he asked back then shook his head, his lips tipping up. “No f**kin’ way.”

“Well, I’m wearing mine,” I muttered, putting a knee to the bed then crawling to him and throwing my leg over to sit astride him again.

I rested my hands on his chest. He shoved his up the back of the tee and they roamed but his eyes caught mine and his were now serious.

“No matter what Keaton said, you don’t trust him. You don’t trust anyone but the inner sanctum. Tate, Deke, Peña, Wood, Maggie, Laurie, Krystal, Bubba, Pop, Stella and Jim-Billy. Get me?”

Obviously, I’d told him everything.

I nodded.

“Not even Frank,” he went on.

I nodded again.

“Also not Dewey.”

I nodded yet again.

“Nobody,” he kept going.

“I get it, hubby,” I said, pressing my hands into his chest. “Nobody.”

“But maybe Sterling,” he amended on a mutter and I was thinking he was right.

I didn’t get my kickass celebration dinner. The celebration took its usual turn when our friends were around. Deke took off and brought back two cases of beer. Laurie got on the phone and Pop brought Jonas over and both stayed. Stella came with them. Krystal got on the phone and ordered pizzas. Wood popped by for a beer but didn’t stay long because Maggie was at home with the kids. Shambles’s cake was decimated but part of it being laid to waste was Ty eating a huge slice with ice cream so I didn’t mind. I managed to keep the champagne away from the impromptu partygoers but they weren’t really champagne people. Except, possibly, Sterling who stayed for the festivities but drank beer like all the rest.

Then, as they do, the men went out to the deck to huddle. Sterling went with them.

I would learn after they left and before Ty and I went up to bed to have the real celebration, that Tate was taking the money, gun, weapon paraphernalia and Misty’s letter. He had a scanner and was going to scan it and send it to Angel that night. He was also going to send it to other people. He was further going to make a shitload of copies of it, give Ty and I some but keep the original safe. And lastly, Ty had contacted his friend Max’s wife Nina, who was an attorney in Gnaw Bone, who was also on Tate’s e-mail list to receive a scanned copy. That said, she’d already been on the line to Colorado’s Attorney General’s office to discuss Ty’s case and how the letter shed new light on it and to get the ball rolling to uncover whatever else Misty had sent to whoever else she sent it to.

Although the Attorney General’s office assured her that they felt this was as serious as Nina Maxwell communicated to them it was and would be acting on it thus, that was as far as we got.

It would be nice to get a knock on the door in five minutes and go down to see the Governor there to grant Ty a full pardon with a thousand news reporters behind him ready to receive his statement that Tyrell Walker was a wronged man and Arnold Fuller was a racist, ass**le, dirty cop dick but I doubted that would happen.

So I would take what we had since it was way better than what we had yesterday.

“Do you think Keaton is working with Frank?” I asked Ty.

“I think Keaton’s wife got shot and Keaton’s shook. He did not do me dirty except that he married Misty and was and is known to look the other way frequently and clearly he did it during my gig. How dirty he is, I have no idea but I do know you jump in the mud, it’s impossible to stay clean. And I know he jumped in the mud way before what went down with me. His seein’ the error of his ways now does not surprise me. But I wouldn’t trust him to change a light bulb.”

I nodded.

Then I pointed out, “Fuller, today, was arrogant. I don’t think he knows what Misty got up to or what Frank and possibly Keaton are currently up to.”

“Fuller has been a big fish in a small pond for a very long time. Fuller has convinced himself he’s untouchable and the long ride he’s had has helped him do that. He’s got shit on people, he’s got people in his pocket and he’s demonstrated that his retribution will be fierce if he’s crossed and not just with me and Misty but often and for decades. He’s not dumb as his boys but no man should suffer from hubris. Hubris is the worst thing a man can have because it makes you weak without you knowin’ you’re weak. Hubris has brought bigger, smarter, more powerful men to their knees. A man like him, it’ll destroy.”