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“So, where did we get married?”
“We eloped, duh.” She chuckles. “We’re impulsive so we went to Vegas. We got married in the chapel and then won a thousand dollars on the slot machines.”
“Oh, that can’t be your dream wedding. A Las Vegas Chapel, really?”
Emma laces her fingers through mine. “I’ve never really been a ‘dream wedding’ kinda girl. I would much rather have a dream marriage with the man of my dreams.”
“Oh, and in this fantasy,I’mthe man of your dreams? Interesting. I never would have guessed.”
She gives me a pointed look, before resting her head on my shoulder and nestling in closer to me, holding me tight.
I don’t know what she’s trying to tell me, but right in this moment, it feels like she’s letting me know that Iamthe man of her dreams. And not just in the fantasy.
Oh God, here we are again, sinking deeper into a dangerous territory of feelings that we’re not going to be able to extract ourselves from with ease.
What the hell are we going to do?
TWENTY-THREE
EMMA
I sip my tea as I watch Owen do laps in the pool, strong as ever.
It’s good to see him getting back on track. Owen doesn’t suit struggling. I could see it in his eyes that being weak in any way was hard for him.
But this new safe house has been good for the both of us.
Being nearer to civilization makes life a lot easier.
Plus, I do kinda feel safer.
A little bit, anyway.
I don’t want to get ambushed once more. I don’t know if we could survive it again. Especially with everything else going on right now…
Looking after Owen has been a great distraction, but I can’t push the truth down forever. I can’t ignore what’s going on inside of me. I know I need to address it sooner or later.
But how can I when my life is this crazy?
That damn pregnancy test… those two blue lines… what the hell am I going to do about it?
I’mdefinitelynot going to say anything to Owen yet. Not until I’ve had confirmation. I’ll have to get to a hospital or a doctor’s office.
I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to see a medical professional, but still…
There’s no need to make this messy situation any more complicated than it already is.
My pulse throbs as I watch Owen climb out the water, the droplets cascading down his thick, muscular torso. My tongue drags along my bottom lip, wishing it could be replaced by his.
Tingles tear all over me while he grabs a towel to wrap around himself. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to calm myself down.
“You good?” he asks as he takes a seat beside me.
“Yeah. Are you?”
He might nod, but his facial expression and body language suggests otherwise.
He’s tense.
