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“London press? Celebrity guests? Posh planning?” I stiffened in his arms. He tightened his hold around me and whispered, “Now, don’t panic, okay? Our wedding has to be an . . . event that will be newsworthy enough so that everyone knows about us.”
“Like the senator?”
“Yes,” he paused, “we think that Fielding is dead too. He’s been missing since the end of May.”
“Oh, God! Ethan, why didn’t you tell me?” I jerked forward and turned halfway around to look at him accusingly.
He tightened his hold around me and pressed his lips to the back of my neck. He was attempting to soothe me, I suppose, and lucky for him his tactics usually worked. Ethan was able to settle me down with just a gentle touch.
“I just got confirmation, and when I first suspected it we were at Hallborough, and you were so desperately sick . . . Don’t be angry. I had to tell Neil about us too. He knows we’re pregnant. And before you get mad about that, you should know he’s very happy for us. You know everything there is to know, Brynne.” He kissed my shoulder. “No secrets.”
My brain started putting it all together and the very idea gave me goose bumps. “You’re worried they will try to get to me too, but if our relationship and wedding are made into celebrity news then they won’t dare to?” I could hear the fear in my voice and hated it. I couldn’t imagine that Senator Oakley would want me dead. What had I ever done wrong except date his son? It was Lance Oakley who’d done the damage, not me! Why did I have to live in fear over something I didn’t cause? I was the victim here, and as much as I loathed the idea, it was the truth.
“I cannot take the risk with you and I won’t, not ever.” Ethan kissed my neck and swirled the sponge down my belly. “I always say you are brilliant because you are. You understand, then.”
“Yeah, I get it. I understand that a powerful political party may want to snuff me out, but that doesn’t mean I have to like a façade wedding.” I could feel Ethan tense behind me and figured he wasn’t happy with what I was saying.
“I told you I would do whatever it takes to secure your safety, Brynne, and I will. I promise you, the venue and the guest list don’t change a goddamn thing about the purpose. Not for me, they don’t,” he ground out. “And I want the fact that we are expecting a baby to be part of the announcement as well. It just makes you more of a precious commodity.” He shook me lightly. “Which you are.”
Yeah, my man was not happy at all. He sounded a little wounded too, and I felt guilty yet again for being so unappreciative. I guess it was just one more thing to discuss with my therapist. While I was grateful Ethan wanted to marry me and was willing to make a commitment to our child, I hated that threats from fuck-knows-who were the driving force behind his proposal.
“I’m sorry. I know I am not making this easy on you, Ethan. I wish I could be different about this.” In so many ways, I wish it. “But you should know it’s not really every girl’s dream to have a celebrity wedding because someone might be trying to kill her.”
“There’s a lot more motivating me than that,” he growled, “and you know it.” Ethan thrust up the drain plug and heaved himself out of the tub. He offered his hand to assist me, his expression a little angry, a little hurt, and a lot beautiful in all his magnificent wet nakedness.
Yeah, a baby we started together by accident is driving it too.
I accepted his hand and let him draw me out of the tub. He snapped down a towel and started drying me from head to toe. When he got to my stomach he bent down and planted a gentle kiss right over where our baby would be growing.
I gasped and felt tears starting again, fully unable to bring my emotions to heel, and wondering how I’d ever make it through everything intact. Why did I have to be so weak?
He lifted his eyes up. “But I love you, Brynne, and I have to be with you. Isn’t that enough?”
I lost it. Completely and totally, and for the goddamn zillionth time. Tears, sobs, hiccups—the whole nine yards. Ethan got the deluxe emotional package from me tonight. Poor guy.
My outburst didn’t seem to faze him, though, as he took charge, putting me back into bed, sliding in alongside me and drawing me close. He drew his fingers through my hair and just held me for a long time with no more demands, no questions or inquiries. He let me be, offering his comfort and strength generously without the prospect of anything in return.
He was thinking. I could hear the cogs grinding around inside his head as he pondered me. Ethan did that quite a bit, actually, the thinking without saying anything.
I was too, though. I remembered something Dr. Roswell had said to me more than once. Whenever I expressed my fears about the future, she said: “You’ll get through one step at a time, one day at a time, Brynne.”
Another cliché, yes, but one that was spot-on true, as Ethan liked to say sometimes. Spot-on true.
I’ll get through this one step at a time, and Ethan will be here to help me.
“It is enough, Ethan,” I whispered. His fingers stilled in my hair. “It is enough for me. You are enough.”
Ethan kissed me, gentle and soft, his tongue slipping inside to tangle around lazily like there wasn’t a care in the world for us right now. I felt his palm sweep down to rest low on my belly and he held it there, warm and protecting.
“We’re gonna be okay, baby. I know we are. All three of us.”
I buried my face in his chest and nuzzled. “When you say it, I believe you.”
“It will. I know this.” He lifted my face up and tapped his head with his finger. “I have visions, just like you have those super powers of deduction that you told me about once.” He gave me a wink.
“Really.” I added some sarcasm, just so he’d know I was over my snit about the wedding and could go back to acceptance.
“Yup. You, me and our little blueberry will have our happily ever after.”
