Laney giggled. “Maybe he’s just a romantic.”
“Owen, a romantic? You did meet him, didn’t you?”
“And spent two days straight with him, yeah.” She laughed, squeezing a pillow to her chest. “I don’t think you know him as well as you think you do. He practically jumped at theopportunity to drive me down, and he was really nice, checking in on me, stopping when I needed to, even insisting on a hotel for a few hours when we got to Utah. I think he’s a secret ball of mush inside.”
I decided not to correct her on that one. Sure, Owen had done one thing to redeem himself, but that hardly accounted for thirty-eight other years of being a giant prick. There was one thing my he definitely did not have, and that was a sense of romance.
Instead, I kissed her again. I couldn’t stop kissing her, it seemed. A part of me kept worrying that she was going to disappear somehow. That I’d wake up, back in this room again, hungover and naked and realize that the last month of my life had been a dream. So I had to kiss her, just to make sure it was real.
Sometime later, Laney flopped back onto the pillow, sighing. And grinning. “It feels like a lifetime ago that we woke up here married.”
“Mmmmm.” I licked her neck. I needed to stop soon, but I was having a hard time not tasting her every chance I got. “Yeah, I suppose a lot has happened.”
“Oh, just a little.” She arched her neck, giving me better access. “Let’s see… I moved across the country for a husband I barely knew. Then I discovered he’s a secret nerd like me with a billion books and seriously sweet and kinky sides that made it impossible not to fall in love with him. Then he gets arrested for murder, and I have emergency heart surgery. Sounds like the perfect honeymoon.”
I set my teeth over her pulse, strong and steady. Music to my damn ears. “We might be kind of terrible at marriage.”
“The worst.” She turned in my arms. “But maybe that means there’s nowhere to go but up. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Not even the part where my family bought your mother’s company without telling you?”
“Okay, maybe that part.” She paused. “Or maybe just a different way. My dad is happy about it. And I actually might be too. I don’t have to save Meráki anymore. So… silver lining?”
I kissed her forehead. Someday I’d figure out how to make that one up to her. When the time was right. “How’s your heart?”
“That was the worst change of subject in the world.”
“I’m tired. Give me some slack.” I rolled onto my back and tucked her into the curve between my chest and arm, the place where she fit perfectly. “I’m still going to need an answer, though.”
She gave a truly enormous yawn before answering. “Weirdly normal, actually. At least, I think this is what normal feels like. I don’t know. I’ll have to see.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I know that theoretically I can do all sorts of things that were hard before. Or will be in a couple of weeks.” She turned to look up at me. “I can get legitimately excited. Maybe take up running. Do inversions in yoga without worrying I’ll pass out. But I think that until all of that actually happens, I may not believe it’s real. That I’m really okay.”
“Sounds familiar.” I brushed a hand through her hair. I was having similar feelings about us.
But she was right about one thing. There was no point in speculating anymore about what could happen. I couldn’t waste my time worrying about whether I deserved Laney or what her love might actually mean. We just had to live it.
And maybe, after some time had passed, I’d get used to the fact that I had somehow won the lottery of marriages.
Although I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that, even if I could. I sincerely doubted a day would ever pass where I wasn’t genuinely in awe of the fact that Laney Fisher loved me.
It honestly seemed preferable anyway.
We lay together for a long time, doing the simple things people do just before they sleep together, like stroking each other’s hair and listening to each other’s breaths even out.
I was damn close to sleep when she spoke again.
“Ronan?”
“Mmm.”
“What did that guy mean when he said you owe him?”
I blinked. A gilded cherub carved into the molding looked down at me, as if to say, here’s another chance to be better. To tell her the truth. Even if you want to pretend it didn’t happen.
“His name is Ares Antoni,” I said. “His father is one of the bigger crime bosses in the country, with operations in New York and Vegas. Sometimes I had to work with them.”
