Elle grabbed me by the hand and pulled me down the dock. “The auction is starting. There’s a killer Chanel bag Vanessa found at an estate sale and donated, and I’m bidding on it in the name of raising money for the program—and in the name of fashion. Oh, and Yve and Dirty Dog donated an awesome vintage Metallica T-shirt that I’m also dying to get—obviously to raise even more money and because you’re going to look sexy as hell in it until I strip it off you.”

I laughed as I let her drag me toward the crowd—because quite frankly, I’d let this woman drag me anywhere she wanted.

The rest of the evening rolled on, and predictably, Elle got her purse and the T-shirt. Unpredictably, Lucas Titan bid a million dollars on a boxing lesson with Con.

It would take all million dollars of restraint for Con not to pound the shit out of him in the ring—which I was sure was Titan’s motive. Either that, or he felt like he still had a score to settle. Regardless, it wasn’t something I was going to miss.

In the Shelby on the way home—which Elle drove since she still didn’t drink—I asked her, “What do you think about becoming a full partner in Chains?”

She slowed to a stop at a red light and swung her head my way. “Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah.”

“A partner? Like, with equal say and skin in the game?”

“Exactly that.”

“You’d trust me with that? You’re not drunk, are you?”

The light turned green, but she didn’t accelerate because I’d lifted my hand to her face and skimmed my fingers along her cheek. “I’m not drunk. And you know damn well I trust you with everything and anything.”

She turned her face to press a kiss to my palm, before taking a deep breath. “Well, obviously the only answer I have is hell yes. And maybe one more question.”

“Shoot, sweet thing.”

“Do you have any idea how epic this going to be?”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that.” Every bit of my future with Elle would be epic. I wouldn’t let us settle for anything less.

Elle accelerated, and we drove off into the motherfucking sunset.