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“No one ever believes it when a convict has a felony overturned,” I say bitterly. “They’re just going to think I have a hotshot lawyer who got me off the hook by making a deal somehow.”

Jed puffs his chest out. “And you do,” he says. “I am that hotshot lawyer. But they’re not going to keep thinking that way. You can get back into the business world, Dane. And I encourage you to do so. You were a brilliant businessman, and I don’t think that part of your life is over yet. You’re young yet – you’re what, forty-three?”

“Forty-five,” I growl. “And that part of my life has been over for a long time.”

Jed is silent as he puts his muddy Gucci loafers back on his feet and stands up. He brushes his hands off on his thighs and shakes his head. I can tell he’s holding back, but I’m fine with that. I don’t need my fancy lawyer trying to convince me of anything at the moment – especially the idea of returning to the cruel world which so bitterly betrayed me.

“Okay,” Jed says with resignation. He tucks his briefcase under his arm. “I can see your mind is made up. But let me file that appeal anyway, okay? I just want to see how it will go.”

The bitter taste seeps into my mouth again and I’m glad my stomach is empty so there’s nothing left to vomit.

“Yeah. Whatever,” I say. “Do what you want.”

I watch Jed leave from my chair. As the sound of his Mercedes fades into the distance, I close my eyes and think of Emma. Thoughts of her have become a sanctuary for me, a place where the real world with all of its troubles doesn’t exist.

God, Emma.

She can never know about this.

No matter what.

Because if my sweet girl knows that I’m a convicted felon, she’ll run screaming … and I’ll only have myself to blame.

11

Emma

It feels like finals week is taking forever. I’m totally sleep deprived and crazy, even though I haven’t been studying nearly as much as I should.

It’s because I’ve been spending so much time with Dane, holed up in the woods.

“Do you want seconds?”

Dane grins as he stands there with a giant plate of cheeseburgers. They’re bloody and dripping grease and they smell almost too good to take.

“Oh, yes,” I say happily. I take another bun from the package on the table and rip it open. Dane expertly places two patties on top and I squish the bun down until grease oozes onto my plate.

“Good,” Dane says. “These are never good leftover.” He helps himself to a single burger, then sits down and watches as I take my first bite. I can feel juice oozing down my chin and I flush hotly, but Dane reaches over and wipes my chin with a napkin.

“I take it you liked your present,” I say shyly as I look over at the big basket I brought.

Dane nods. “It was thoughtful of you.”

“I would go crazy if I had to live without all of my favorite snack foods for years,” I say as I take another huge bite. Like everything Dane makes, the cheeseburgers are perfect. They’re exactly medium-rare, just like I like them. And the smoked gouda I brought from town tastes excellent with the charred meat.

“I’ve managed to survive without fancy cheese,” Dane says dryly. “But thank you anyways.” He takes a huge bite and wipes his beard with a napkin. I can’t be sure, but it looks as though he’s started to groom a little more carefully since we first met. He’s been trimming his beard nearly every day and his hair is pulled back into a sexy man bun. I want to take it down and run my fingers through it.

Ever since I got here, I’ve been itching to touch Dane. We’ve developed a kind of routine – or I’ve begun initiating one, and he hasn’t stopped me yet. Every three or four days, I come by his cabin. At first it was just for dinner, some sexy times, and then goodbye. I’d always be home in bed by midnight or one. But the last time I was here, I spent the night. There was dinner, conversation, love-making, more love-making, and then before I knew it, I’d fallen asleep in his arms. Plus, he didn’t wake me. Instead, the next morning I woke up, tousled and dazed, only to be treated to a delicious breakfast of pancakes.

So yeah, I’m not sure where this is going, but the path seems promising. It’s intoxicating and thrilling and magical. I’ve never spent time with a man like Dane before. He’s so intelligent and charismatic and charming, at least once you make it past the gruff exterior.

I adore everything about him.

I’m just worried that he sees me as a silly girl, or someone who isn’t worth his time in the long run. He’s probably just wasting time with me. Heck, he’s probably just flattered that he met someone who likes his cooking so much.

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