Page 144 of Oathbreaker

“I can’t wait to make you my wife, hence calling you Mrs.Brigham.” He pulls back, grinning. “But I can see how that could be confusing, especially since I’ve jumped over a few steps with you.”

I snort. He kisses my nose.

“But I don’t want there to be any doubt or confusion. You are mine. You always have been, and you always will be. You are my wife. But once it’s safe, and this is all behind us, if you want a big wedding featured in US Weekly, you’ll have that, baby. It’s whatever you want.”

I kiss him in response, giving him all my love, hope, and dreams for the future.

When we’re both fully naked, facing each other in a tight embrace, I kiss him soundly when he says, “Will you give me the chance to make my vision real? I want to ask you as I do in my dreams. Can you wait?”

So I say yes as I lower myself onto his hardness. When we both finish, deeply sated and soaked in peace, we crawl into my bed, wrapped around each other. I sleep well for the first time since he’s been gone.

TWENTY-NINE

HUNTER

Dr. Greene’s office smells like lemon Lysol.

The medical assistant taking us to the exam room looks annoyed to be here on a Saturday morning, but she’s professional otherwise.

Winter left a urine sample in the bathroom as soon as we got to the office, and now I stand next to her as she sits on the exam table.

“Date of your last menstrual period?” The medical assistant asks, her long nails clicking on the keyboard with unnatural percussion.

“It was three months ago or so. Maybe a little under,” Winter says.

The assistant types swiftly, her fingers dancing across the keys as she enters the information.

“Mmmkay, and no bleeding, unusual discharge, pelvic pain?” Her gaze fixes on Winter, hands frozen above the keyboard. I instinctively rub Winter’s back as she draws in a sharp breath.

She leans into me and croaks, “No.”

“Mmmkay.” She clicks on the keyboard for a few more seconds, referencing the sticky note where she wrote Winter’s height and weight. I swallow annoyance that they should have that exact information from her visit four months ago and continue to rub Winter’s back.

“Is this your first pregnancy?” she asks casually without looking at Winter, which is good because I don’t want anyone to see the tears welling in her eyes and how pale she’s gone under her naturally light-brown skin.

“Um—”

“That’s enough questions,” I bark. The medical assistant jumps.

“I need this information for the doctor,” she says with more than an edge of annoyance.

“No, you don’t.” As my words hang in the air, she responds with a barely suppressed eye roll, a clear expression of irritation etched into the gesture.

“Well, I need to take her blood pressure and sats,” she says, standing up to pull a pulse ox out of her scrub pocket. When she steps forward, I put my arm in front of Winter’s body.

“Touch her, and I promise you will regret that decision. Leave the room and tell the doctor we’re waiting for her.”

My eyes don’t shift from the medical assistant’s shocked face. With an exasperated huff, she locks the computer with brisk taps. Without uttering a word, she whirls around, exiting the room.

“H,” Winter whispers. I look at her, keeping my face soft.

She looks lost, so I rub my finger on her cheek. “Talk to me, Sunbeam,” I say.

When I speak, she sucks in a breath. “If...something is wrong with the...with the baby?—”

I pull her hand to my mouth, kissing the delicate skin inside her wrist. This silences her.

“Winter, let’s try something. You game?” She stares at me, her eyes watery. Her bottom lip trembles, but she gives me a sharp nod. “Let’s have our default setting be believing everything is okay until proven otherwise. How does that sound?”

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