“Shut up!” Royce bellowed. “Don’t listen to these women!’

“—for more than a year!” Alexis finished.

“Does that woman even look like my type?” Royce sneered.

“We have seven more women who have come forward,” Jessica yelled.

Liv’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Listen to them.”

“We have written statements for every reporter in the room,” Alexis said.

“I want these women arrested!” Royce screamed over the noise. “I will sue your asses for slander. Sam! Where the hell is Sam?”

Liv sank against Mack’s chest, her back pressed against the strong beat of his heart.

Chaos was a concert through the speakers—a clash of blustery denials and reporters’ questions and, above it all, the confident, strong voices of two women who’d had enough and were taking back their lives.

The door burst open again.

Royce stalked in. A belligerent bison, huffing and puffing. He shook from the top of his toupee to the toes of his Berluti loafers. His face was the color of a stewed tomato. “Olivia.”

Mack’s arm snaked around her waist.

“I knew you were behind this.” He advanced with threatening intent, but Vlad shot to his feet, sending Geoff sideways onto the floor.

Vlad jumped in Royce’s way. “You will not move,” he said flatly.

Royce gulped and backed up.

“It’s over, Royce,” Liv said. “You’re done.”

Royce shook his finger at her. “You won’t get away with this. I will sue your asses. All of you. You really think anyone is going to believe you over me, you insignificant little bitch?”

Mack dialed Noah and, with his eyes locked on Royce, gave a simple instruction. “Play it.”

The speakers throughout the restaurant scratched with static, and then a clear, strong voice came through.

“What do I have to give you to get you to back off?”

Liv smiled. “I was recording our conversation, Royce.”

Royce’s face drained of color, the first sign of any recognition that he was good and truly done.

“A signed statement.”

“A signed statement saying what?”

Liv laughed at the sound of her own voice—so much calmer than she’d felt that night. And far calmer than she felt right now.

“That you didn’t see a goddamned thing.”

“Is that how you do it? How you keep your dirty little secret? You intimidate women until they sign statements saying it never happened, they never saw anything, you never touched them?”

“Do you really think I don’t know how to do this after all this time?”

The last line skipped and repeated. Skipped and repeated. Over and over. A nightmarish echo. A confession that spelled the end.

Mack laughed and dropped his forehead to Liv’s hair. “Noah,” he murmured.

Royce found his bluster one last time. “Aren’t you forgetting something? I confessed something about you, too, that night, Mack. I will make sure everyone knows your dirty little secret.”

Mack lifted his head, spread his hand wide across Liv’s stomach, and held her tight. “I don’t care, Royce. I’m done hiding.”

Liv turned in his arm and looked up. “Are you sure?”

Mack smoothed a curl behind her ear. “I want to start fresh. You deserve that.”

Once again, the door flew open. Royce’s publicist ran in. “We need to go out through the back, Royce,” the man said, a greenish tint to his face. “It’s chaos out there. The reporters are going to swarm you.”

Vlad planted a hand in Royce’s chest. “You will not move.”

“Let him go, Vlad,” Liv said. “There’s nowhere he can go to escape from this now.”

The publicist cast a wary and perhaps apologetic glance at Liv before wrapping his fingers around Royce’s elbow and pulling him out.

Liv was only peripherally aware of things happening after that. Geoff rose from the floor with a groan. The Russian ran to his aid. Riya said she needed to go check on Jessica and Alexis.

Liv saw and heard only one thing clearly.

Mack.

He pulled her into his arms. “Are you okay?”

She pressed her cheek to his chest. “I am now.”

His arms suddenly tightened, and he dropped his face to her shoulder. “Tell me I haven’t lost you, Liv.”

Liv pulled back and once again looked up at him. “Do you think maybe we can say those things to each other now?”

Mack swallowed hard and cupped her cheeks with his hands. “I’m so sorry I left that night at your sister’s. I should have stayed and held you, but I failed you because I was a fucking coward—”

She covered his mouth with her hand. “Shut up.”

He blinked but obeyed.

“I’m the one who failed that night.” She slid her hand to his jaw. Her voice took on the tremor that reflected how she really felt. Nervous. Scared. So damn sorry. “I used the bullshit about your name as an excuse because I was scared. Because I knew I was on the verge of falling in love with you, and that’s never happened to me before.”

He broke into one of those grins, the kind that told her everything was going to be okay. “Well, hell, darling. Maybe we should just give it a try.”

Her heart pounded. “Give what a try?”

“Don’t you think it’s high time you and I fell in love?”

Something broke in her chest that spread warmth and joy and safety. Happiness coursed through her as she rose on tiptoes to brush her lips across his. “Hey, Braden?”

He dipped for another kiss. “Hmmm?”

“I already have fallen in love with you.”

“Good,” he laughed quietly, his breath warm against her lips. “Because so have I.”

His brow came to rest on hers, his hands cradling her face as if he never wanted to let her go. “Hey, Braden?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

He did. Oh, how he did. He devoured her mouth, poured his heart into every nudge of his lips, every caress of his hands, every murmured promise and vow. Liv tangled her fingers in his hair and held on to him. She was never letting him go.

A loud scuffle of shoes at the door drew them apart just enough to turn and look.

Gavin, Del, and Malcolm skidded into the room followed by Thea. “Oh my God! We couldn’t get in!” Thea said. “What did we miss?”

They all stopped at the same time and stared, taking in Mack’s hands on Liv’s back, her hands in his hair, the freshly kissed plumpness of their lips.

“Oh,” Thea squeaked. “Oh, thank God.”

Del dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He strode forward and shoved a wad of bills at Mack.

“What’s this?” Liv asked, eyebrow raised.

“Congratulations,” Del said. “You finally have a girlfriend.”

Liv backed up, hands on her hips. “Excuse me? You had another bet about me?”

Mack shoved the money in his pocket, drew her back, and silenced her crankiness with his lips. For once, she didn’t mind.

A discreet cough a moment later drew them apart again. A man Liv didn’t recognize had entered the room. With his plain white shirt and khaki twills, he had reporter written all over him.

“Jessica and Alexis said you were the one who started all this,” the man said.

Liv turned around. “We just helped.”

The man shook his head, looking from face to face, recognition dawning as he saw Gavin, Del, and even Vlad.

“I don’t get it. You guys are all, like, famous. What do you have to do with this? I mean, who are you guys?”

Liv watched as the guys did that silent conversation thing—raised eyebrows, shrugs, nods.

Mack grinned down at Liv. She laughed and burrowed her face in his chest.

“Who are we?” Mack said, standing all. “We’re the Bromance-Fucking-Book-Club.”

The reporter raised his eyebrows. “The what now?”

Mack grabbed Liv’s hand. “They’ll explain it,” he said, nodding at the guys. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a happy ever after to start.”

EPILOGUE

Six months later

“Prosecutors announced today that disgraced reality-TV chef Royce Preston has accepted a plea deal for charges of endangerment, embezzlement, and tax evasion. Preston is expected to receive a sentence of sixteen to twenty years in federal prison . . .”

Liv turned down the volume of the TV in her garage apartment and flopped down on the couch next to Braden. “No charges for sexual harassment.”

Braden lifted his arm so Liv could snuggle against him. “He deserves a lot more than twenty years.”

“It was nice of Gretchen to take on the cases of all the women. I can’t believe they need legal protection, but at least she’s doing it pro bono.”

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Braden said, pressing his forehead to her temple. “I’m ready to focus on other things finally.”

“Like the new restaurant?”

“And my hot new pastry chef.”

“Seems risky,” Liv said, turning to straddle his lap. “Hiring your girlfriend? Could be really complicated.”

“I’m willing to take the risk.” Braden’s hands snuck inside her shirt. “Especially if she’s not my girlfriend.”

Liv scrunched her face up. “This is a really weird way to break up with me, Mack.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of going into business with my wife.”

Liv froze. “What did you say?”

“I’m asking you to marry me,” he said, his hands spanning her waist, his heart in his eyes. “I want to come home to you every night and work with you every day. I want you to lean on me on the couch and tell me about your day. I want to make love every night and fight and make love some more.”