Page 99 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

I give a rueful smile as I see my jacket thrown over the back of the chair. My lips turn down in a slight frown. I wanted to present Emily with a gold wedding band last night, but I wanted to give it to her after a romantic evening—it was probably stupid to think it would be more meaningful if the moment weren’t clouded by passion and sex. The timing was off, and now I’mleft with the uneasy feeling that I need to do more, to say more. Emily deserves better than vague gestures and half-hearted attempts. So, much for my grand romantic gesture, I think with a shrug.

Standing, I confirm the box is still safely tucked into my jacket pocket. I grab a quick shower before I dress in my usual jeans and T-shirt. Before leaving the bedroom, I take the box with me.

Downstairs, I spy the note Emily left. Frowning because it was pretty vague, just that she was running some errands and that she’d probably meet me at the studio office later. There’s a niggling worry in the back of my mind, a leftover from this past week when she couldn’t hide the doubt in her eyes. I hate that she might think our marriage—or how I feel about her—is anything less than real. But how can I blame her when I’ve done such a poor job of telling or showing her otherwise?

I’m eager to see Emily because I feel that even if we didn’t completely break down the wall between us, we certainly put a big dent in it. Last night was great, even though we didn’t talk about anything too serious or personal. Depending on how things go—I’d like to give her the ring today.

An hour or so later, I pull up to Cass’s property. Since Emily is running errands, I planned to use the opportunity to discuss our next steps regarding Derrick with Cass. As I step out of my truck, the sound of a sudden, sharp shout breaks my focus.

“Fire! One of the buses is on fire!”

My blood runs cold. Spinning toward the direction of the commotion, I see thick black smoke billowing into the air, twisting ominously against the blue sky. Panic tightens in my chest as people rush toward the scene, yelling for someone to call 911.

My feet are moving before I’ve even decided to act, pounding across the drive toward the bus. Flames lick up the side, the heat of the fire already palpable as I approach. Someone grabs my arm, yelling something about staying back, but I shake them off.

One of the crew rushes forward, their voice shaking but urgent. “Miss. Emily was on the bus! I saw her get on!”

Everything inside me stops, then explodes into action. Nothing else matters except getting to her.

Without thinking, I break into a full sprint toward the bus. “Emily!” I shout, my voice raw with fear.

Smoke pours out of the open door, curling like fingers into the air. The acrid smell burns my throat, but I force myself up the steps. The interior is thick with smoke, the heat stifling as I shout her name again.

“Emily!”

Nothing. My heart pounds erratically as I push farther into the bus. The smoke is so dense it’s almost impossible to see, my eyes stinging and watering.

Then, from the small bathroom at the back of the bus, I hear a muffled sound—a cough.

I don’t hesitate. My body moves on pure adrenaline as I make my way toward the source of the sound, ducking low to avoid the thickest part of the smoke.

The bathroom door is closed, but it easily opens when I pull. Inside, Emily is crouched on the floor, a wet towel pressed to her face. Her eyes are wide, panicked, and watering, but she’s alive. The relief is so intense it's almost painful.

“Sam!” she gasps, her voice muffled by the towel.

I don’t say a word. Instead, I pull her to her feet, wrapping my arm around her waist to steady her. She’s coughing, her body trembling, and the way she clings to me as we escape makes my protective instincts surge even stronger.

“Stay low!” I shout over the roar of the flames, my voice rough from the smoke.

We move as quickly as possible, navigating the narrow aisle toward the exit. The heat is suffocating, and the smoke grows thicker by the second. My lungs burn, and I can feel the sweat dripping down my face, but all I can focus on is getting Emily and our unborn baby out of there.

Finally, the bright light of the open door appears ahead.

With one last push, we burst out of the bus, stumbling down the steps and into the fresh air. The cool breeze is a shocking contrast to the stifling heat inside, and I gasp for breath, pulling Emily along with me.

The crowd gathered nearby erupts into relieved shouts as we collapse onto the grass. Someone grabs a fire extinguisher and tries to control the flames, but it’s clear the bus is a lost cause.

Emily clings to me, coughing violently, her face pale and streaked with soot. I cradle her against my chest, my hands shaking.

“Are you okay?” I manage to ask, my voice hoarse. “The baby—”

“I… I’m fine.” She nods weakly, still struggling to catch her breath. “The baby’s okay, too.”

The wail of approaching sirens cuts through the air, signaling the arrival of the fire trucks. Relief surges through me, but it’s quickly replaced by a simmering anger.

“Why the hell were you on the bus?” I demand, my voice harsher than I intend.

Before Emily can answer, a commotion erupts nearby.

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