I practiced more calming breathing and requested, “Can I get in the truck?”

Darius beeped the locks.

I moved to the door.

“This sucks,” Brody remarked as I yanked it open and reached in to get my purse and laptop bag. “The Rock Chicks have cost me a shed load of money. And now there’s none left. I can’t win any back.”

I pulled out of the cab, slammed the door and looked at Brody. “You bet on Ren and me?”

“Sure,” he replied and when I started glaring again, he added, “But I bet on you. I thought you’d hold out longer. But you caved.”

My back went straight.

“I didn’t cave,” I snapped. “Like I said, we had a meeting of the minds.”

“You’ve been having a meeting of a variety of things but you never caved,” Brody pointed out. “Though, if it makes you feel better, you held out a whole lot longer than any of the other Rock Chicks. I did a spreadsheet. Sadie took the longest to win. You beat her by, like, eleven point five months. You should be proud. That’s a lot.”

Darius started chuckling.

“Do you want me to hurt you?” I asked the both of them and the both of them grinned.

They said no more and I didn’t either. I was in for a lot of this, I knew. I bought it and I knew that too. I was just going to have to suck it up and take it.

“I’ll see you guys back home,” I muttered, moving away.

“Ally,” Darius called and I turned back.

“Yeah?”

“Believe in it,” he said softly, “and be happy.”

God, I loved Darius.

I swallowed as my eyes started feeling hot.

Then I nodded and got the hell out of there.

I barely had the door to the room closed before Ren asked, “How much shit did they give you?”

He was sitting on the side of the bed tugging on his boots.

I dumped my stuff on the bed and turned to him. “I’m screwed.”

He straightened, reached out, grabbed my h*ps and shifted me so I was standing between his opened legs.

I rested my hands on his shoulders and looked in his eyes.

This man loved me.

Seriously.

How lucky could I be?

“I’ll make it worth it,” he whispered.

Yeah.

He loved me.

And I was very lucky.

“I think, after acting like an idiot for a year, that’s my job,” I replied, and his warm eyes got warmer, his hands slid from my h*ps to my ribs and he pulled me down to him as he fell back so we were lying on the bed, me on top.

“How you gonna do that?” he asked as one of his hands drifted over my ass and the other one drifted up and into my hair.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “But I’ll be creative.”

He smiled.

My heart soared.

“Lookin’ forward to that,” he murmured.

“Would you like to start now?” I offered. “Or after we get back to Denver.”

“Seein’ as I’m takin’ my woman on our first official date tonight even though she’s been my woman for a long f**kin’ time, I want to get back to Denver. So you can start there.”

God. I’d been such an idiot.

I didn’t admit that since I figured he knew. And, by the way, he was being very cool by not rubbing my nose in it.

Which made me love him more.

Instead, I replied, “Copy that,” and got another smile.

Then I got a hot, heavy, wet kiss.

After that, I got my ass hauled to a sweet ride and Ren pointed the Jag toward Denver (after we checked in on Faye who, surprisingly, after being buried alive, was doing all right; then again, she had her own hot guy badass so maybe this wasn’t a surprise).

I delayed until nearly the final moment to check my phone because I knew what I’d find. I’d even avoided looking when I’d called Darius.

But this was sissy behavior and not me. However, I allowed myself this bubble of happiness with Ren without letting the world intrude as he drove his sleek, high performance machine through the beauty of the Colorado Mountains.

He did this, by the way, almost the whole time holding my hand against his thigh. Yes, the fact that I loved this was more romantic girlie than Rock Chick, but who cares? A hotheaded Italian badass loved me. This required being romantic girlie on occasion.

And I picked that one.

But it was time to stop being a sissy and face the music.

So I hit the button to turn on my phone and found I had fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-three voicemails.

“Shit,” I hissed.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Ren asked, having been around the Rock Chicks enough to know what I was facing.

“Fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-three voicemails,” I told him.

Ren started laughing.

I didn’t find it funny and found it less funny when I went to my Recents list, scrolled down and saw the vast majority of calls were not from the Rock Chicks, snippy and calling to ream me because I didn’t share.

They were from Lee, Hank and Eddie.

Not good.

Those three were also the vast majority of voicemails.

Also not good.

I turned off my phone and shoved it in my purse as Ren pulled into the parking lot of my complex. I did this deciding that maybe I could still be a sissy for a little while longer.

Ren parked. I put my hand to the handle but stopped and turned to him when I felt his fingers curl around my knee.

“We go up, you pack enough to stay at my place awhile, but you make sure you got a variety of dresses and heels,” he ordered and I bit back a smart mouth retort at him being bossy. It took me so long to do that, he was able to keep talking. “And you do that shit fast.”

At bossy part two, I failed in biting back the smart mouth and asked, “Should I salute when you issue an order? Or will nodding and instant compliance do?”

He grinned and replied, “No salutes. No nods. But you could kiss me.”

I gave him a look.

He kept grinning.

I decided to throw out a deal that he couldn’t refuse.

“I’ll kiss you, and comply with your order, if you do me a favor.”

His fingers gave my knee a squeeze and he asked, “What do you need?”

I dug in my purse, got out my wallet and opened it. I found the little pocket that had absolutely no use. A pocket I put a use to. I snapped it open and pulled out what was inside.

I dumped the wallet back in my purse, turned to Ren and lifted my hand between us.

Then I dropped the guitar pendant and it bounced between us from where I held the chain.