The Last Letter

After what felt like a lifetime, he took my hand and went upstairs with me. Once he’d showered, and we lay together in the darkness of my bedroom, Beckett pulled me against him, holding my back to his front.

“I didn’t give you a key because you own the cabin, Ella. I figured you already had one. Maybe I should have told you to use it whenever you wanted, but I guess I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“You gave me your key when we reached the point in our relationship where you trusted me, then I was allowed access to you.”

“Right.”

“I had to earn your trust. But you’ve had mine since day one. You already had a key to me. I know the attic door is a little jammed, but just give it some time.”

I turned in his arms, remembering every time he’d asked if he could help me. The day he’d found Colt at his house. The night I’d walked in to read Ryan’s letter…and then again the night of the adoption. When he’d first come, I was the one who’d shut him out.

“I love you.”

“I know, and I love you,” he told me. Then he spent the next hour showing me with every touch of his hands and kiss from his mouth.

Like I said, we were experts at quiet sex.

Mind-blowing, earth-shattering, soul-shaping sex.





Chapter Twenty-One


Beckett


Letter #21

Chaos,

It’s Christmas. Huh. Have I really become that person, so sad and consumed with worry that even writing Christmas somehow looks depressing?

It shouldn’t be. Maisie is here and, since it’s been a week since her last chemo treatment, she’s actually perking up. Her hair is completely gone now. It left right after the second chemo treatment, her birthday, to be precise. Once it started, she told me to take it all off. She said it was easier to be sad all at once than a little bit every day.

My six-year-old is incredibly wise.

So it’s Christmas, and while my kids play with their new toys, I want to concentrate on what’s good.

First, thank you for the robe. It’s so very soft, and I love it. I’d ask where you found it, but that would probably mean telling me things you’re not allowed to. I hope your present got there, too.

Second, you’ll be here soon. I have to admit, I’m way more excited for that than I should be. I feel like I already know you so well, and getting to see you face-to-face is just that—seeing you. I met you twenty-one letters ago. How amazing it is to meet someone through their words before their face, to find their mind attractive, and then see if the body follows. Not that I’m judging your body. I’m sure it’s great, since you do what you do. I mean, it’s fine.

Stupid. Freaking. Pen.

I’m just saying that I have to admit that I’m attracted to who you are as a person. Is that weird? I hope not. More people should meet like this, to really understand a person before they see the outer packaging. And I know it’s just been letters, but I have this crazy feeling that you understand me, probably better than anyone here.

So get here.

~ Ella



“Behave,” I told Havoc when we heard knocking.

I opened the front door to find Ella standing there, binder in hand, her face tense. It was Monday, and the insurance lady was due in ten minutes. We’d moved the meeting to my house, hoping to not worry Maisie.

Plus, since I was the one on the insurance policy, I was really the one she was investigating.

“Coffee?” I asked as Ella walked in.

“I’m shaking enough as it is.” She slipped out of her coat and hung it on the coat rack, revealing a pair of jeans that her curves fit perfectly and a blue top that matched her eyes. Damn, she looked good. Healthy. The shadows under her eyes were fading, and her skin had a gorgeous glow to it.

I couldn’t wait to see how the light warmed her skin through the stained-glass window I’d just had installed at the new house—the one I hadn’t yet told her I’d been building the last six months. That was a secret I was happy to keep. Two more weeks and it would finally be ready to move into. Then she’d have this cabin back for business and wouldn’t feel like I was pressuring her to move in together.

The fact that the house was next to Solitude and big enough for everyone was just a perk.

“Don’t worry. We didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. This is just a cursory visit.”

“She drove here from Denver, Beckett. Are you sure we don’t need Mark? There’s nothing cursory about this. It’s inconvenient to her and invasive to us.”

“Well, there is that,” I said, putting my arms around her. “We’ll call Mark if we have to, but I honestly think there’s nothing to worry about.”

When the door sounded again, I sighed. “Looks like she’s early. Yay.”

I left the warmth of Ella’s arms and opened the door to find— “Whoa. What are you doing here?”

The firm set of Donahue’s mouth told me it wasn’t by choice. “I was summoned. Apparently this is easier for security purposes than random visits to our ‘office.’” He held up air quotes.

“Come on in.”

He walked inside, adding his coat to the rack, and then pulling up a little short when he saw Ella.

“Ms. MacKenzie,” he said with a little nod.

“You were at Ryan’s funeral.” Her voice had gone soft.

I took her hand. “Ella, this is—”

“Captain Donahue,” he answered truthfully. “I already know the insurance demon told her.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you again. I’m sorry I wasn’t more personable at Ryan’s funeral. I was a little…out of sorts.”

“You were grieving. It’s understandable. Besides, Chaos told me so much about you that I already felt like I knew you.”

He couldn’t have shocked me more if he’d punched me in the nuts.

“Chaos,” Ella said that name like he was a freaking saint. “You knew him. Right. Same unit.”

Donahue’s eyes flew to mine, and I gave the slightest shake of my head, imperceptible to anyone else but someone who’d worked with me in situations where that movement was life and death.

Like right now.

He instantly gave Ella a reassuring smile. “Good guy. Crazy about you, I can say that.” This time his glance at me was definitely a little disapproving. “Gentry. How about we get some coffee.”

That was not a suggestion.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll wait here. I think I see her car pulling in,” Ella said, her face almost against the door’s glass pane.

“What the hell are you doing?” Donahue asked as I made him a cup of coffee.

“What Mac asked.”

“And she doesn’t know?”

“Nope. And it needs to stay that way.” After the machine stopped hissing, I handed him the cup. I knew he liked his coffee like he liked his women, black and strong.

“You adopted her kids, and if my spidey senses are right, you’re sleeping with her, and she doesn’t—”

“The minute she knows, we’re done. You know what happened. She’ll kick me out of here so fast I’ll get whiplash. How the hell am I going to help her then? I hate it. But this is the way it is. The longer I waited to tell her, the deeper it got, and now we’re here.”

The door opened and shut, followed by the sound of two pairs of feminine steps headed our way.

“Damn it, Cha—” He shook his head. “Gentry.”

“Well, gentlemen. It’s nice to see you’re here and ready to start. I’m Danielle Wilson, and you must be Samuel Donahue and Beckett Gentry.” She looked to be in her midforties, with a sensible suit and minimal makeup. Her brown hair was pulled into a severe French twist, and a pair of glasses hung from her necklace.

My instincts told me she was out for blood. My blood.

“Coffee?” I offered.

“No, thank you. Shall we get started?”

We all gathered around the dining room table. Danielle sat at the head, spreading out folders and notebooks like she was prepping to study for finals. Ella sat next to me on one side, her hand firmly tucked in mine, and Donahue took the other side, leaning back in his chair and sipping his coffee.

Guy had always had a hell of a poker face.

But why would she have summoned him?

“Let’s get started. Mr. Gentry, would you please tell me how it is that you came to adopt Ms. MacKenzie’s children?” She put her glasses on, took out her pen, and braced it above a yellow steno pad.