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Which is why I love Lana so much. She still continues to surprise me, and I’m fairly positive I’d be the one burning the world down if anyone ever tried to take her from me.
She calls me a romantic for that.
It’s a life I love.
“What are you thinking about?” Lana asks on a sigh as she leans her head against my arm.
Two months after I showed up in Greece, Lana and I got married. It was just the four of us with one officiate, but it was perfect. Hadley and Jake took two years to follow our lead.
“How crazy life can be, and how good it can turn out,” I tell her, lifting her hand so I can kiss her fingers.
She grins as she snuggles in closer to my side, her white dress blowing in the wind.
Today’s our anniversary, and we’
re taking the boat out for a long weekend away from the house.
“Our story is definitely unique,” she says, sliding her arms around my one and hugging it.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, balking mockingly.
She laughs while rolling her eyes.
“Yeah. We’re just a typical romance,” she deadpans, but her lips lift in a small smile.
“Horror romance. That’s a genre, right?” I ask, smiling when she laughs.
She spins, turning to walk backwards as she faces me.
“You want me to be honest?” she asks, biting her lip.
I grab her waist, loving the way she laughs when I lift her.
“Yes,” I say, nipping her chin before kissing it.
Her legs slide around my waist as she tightens her hold on me, and I continue to carry us in the direction of the boat.
She grins as she says, “It’s my favorite horror story of all time.”
I grin against her lips as we reach the pier, and she slides down to walk beside me, locking our fingers together. She’s getting giddy. I can feel it.
There’s something you need to learn about loving a girl like Lana. She had to open something up inside herself to do what it took to end Delaney Grove’s reign of terror.
And that something can’t just be locked away.
She has special needs. Needs that I tend to once a year, because I love keeping her sane. And she can’t live in denial of who she is.
We load up on the yacht, and she takes care of pouring the champagne, while I get us away from the pier and start driving us out into the ocean. We toast the champagne, and I brush my lips over hers as she stays close.
We’re floating with no land in sight before I anchor us down and check the monitors to make sure we’re completely alone and no one can bother us.
She flashes me a smile, anticipation sparking in her eyes.
“You ready for your present?” I ask her.
She grins.
“Yes.”
