Page 137 of Vengeful Vows

“I just do,” he says softly, and he kisses me so gently I feel my heart swelling with love for him.

“You called me that before. What does it mean?”

“Love of my heart.”

He washes my hair and I finger over the scar from his bullet wound.

“Hey,” he whispers against my neck after rinsing my hair.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to get married again? Do this for real?”

I twist my head to look at him, surprised. “What? You’d do that?”

He shrugs. “You can’t exactly invite your father, but...”

“I don’t need another wedding,” I blurt out, thinking about my dream. The dream where I lost him. “I don’t need anything but you.”

Declan still pouts, but I kiss him, pushing the thoughts of a real wedding out of my head.

I don’t need it. I don’t want a repeat of my dream, after all, don’t want Declan slipping away from me.

By the time dinner rolls around, we’re more than clean. In fact my fingertips look like prunes. We walk down to dinner, and Patrick grins at us.

“Didn’t think you two would ever come out of the bedroom.”

Gray snorts out a laugh, smiling at Declan, and Paige gestures me over to sit between her and Lara.

I go, lingering on holding Declan’s hand as long as I can. His fingers slip from mine, and I feel a bit of panic, remembering that dream.

Was it a prophetic one?

I hope that I only dreamed it because I was worried about Declan hating me, but I can’t be sure.

“Are we having another wedding?” Paige asks, and I shake my head fiercely.

Declan sighs. “She says no.”

“But another wedding would be fun!” Paige insists, pouting at me just like her brother did. They look oddly alike in that moment, and I blink at her, really looking at her. She has dark circles under her eyes and looks drained.

Has she been sleeping? Eating?

“Maybe someday,” I mumble. “But not now.”

“You're no fun.” Declan says the words, but he’s smiling at me. He glances over at Patrick. “Jimmy’s going to be okay.”

“I know.” Patrick nods. “Doc called me a couple of days ago.”

Declan looks surprised. “Have we really been holed up that long?”

Gray laughs. “You sure have. What were you doing in there?”

“Playing checkers,” I answer matter-of-factly, and the table bursts out into laughter.

There’s always laughter at the Burke dining room table. There’s always fun and crazy stories, and it’s like what I always imagined a real family to be like.

As much as I’d told myself it was okay, I never felt that way with my father. And now that I know who he is, I want to find out more.

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