Page 68 of Unhurried Hearts

“My, um, my mom’s husband…ex-husband? Thad called me right before I came out here hoping to catch up to you.”

Her comment about crying earlier makes sense. How the hell can she be thousands of miles from this guy, and he still manages to destroy her in a phone call? I’m blocking his number. Hell, I’ll look into a no-contact order.

After a moment, I pull away to snag some supplies from my pack. The heat-reflecting blanket crinkles as I wrap it around her shoulders.

“Trying to earn your first Girl Guide badge or something?”

She hiccups through her laughter at my dumb joke.

“Oh, I earned it, alright. Our kids are absolutely going to Girl Guides or Boy Scouts or wherever they need to goto learn this stuff,” she says, admiring the flames licking at the fresh stick I placed on the fire.

Ourwhat?All the beach house renovations I’d been imagining blur, new ones coming into focus that feature babies. I try to conjure up the photos from the real estate listing. Which one of those rooms would make the best nursery? I’m ready to skip around the fire and howl into the darkness at the thought of having a family with her. I bundle her against my chest again, barely holding it together. It’s dramatic, but I don’t even want her out of my sight again. Sheismoving into that house with me. Maybe not right away, but soon. Gently, I cup her chin to turn her head. The fire illuminates the right side of her face, lighting up her eyes. I brush my thumb across her lip like I did that first time in The Roastery.

“Anna, I was worried sick. I will always come find you. I love you.”

She blinks quickly, lashes wet with her tears. “I love you, too.”

Then she comes at me in full force. I’m knocked backwards, my head landing in a pile of wet leaves. How am I supposed to try and tell her about the house? Later, I decide, before taking her mouth in firm kiss that has me hardening against her stomach.

“Anna, we have to get down this mountain.”

She peppers my jaw with kisses, her nose and cheeks no longer cold.

“What? You didn’t bring the tent?”

I haul us up to standing, adjusting the foil blanket better around her shoulders and handing her my spare flashlight.

“No. And even if I did, we don’t have s’mores stuff, so how could we possibly camp out?” I say, snuffing out the fire so there’s no trace of embers left.

She’s had a harrowing day. Later if she needs to get everything that happened with Thad off her chest she can. But I need her calm and focused so we can walk safely out of here in the dark.

Her shoulder nudges mine playfully. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

“C’mon, get your bag.”

We pick our way carefully down the trail. I can’t help holding her hand or elbow or guiding her by the small of her back. Not when an hour ago I didn’t know if she was safe. If it was possible, I’d carry her the whole way down.

Anna loves me.

I want to tell her again so that I can hear her say it back. I want to yell it into the forest. To climb up instead of down and scream it over the cliff where the sound might reach the ocean. But there’s no hurry. I wait until we’re at my place, where I can feed her and wash her hair with thedamn overpriced salon shampoo I’m doomed to buy for the rest of my life. And when she’s tucked safely against my side after I’ve made love to her, I whisper it. So only her and I can hear.

“I love you, Anna.”

“I love you too, Chris.”

And that’s the last thing we say that night. And the first thing we say the next morning.

Epilogue: Chris

“Chris, what are we doing here? Why do I have to be blindfolded at the beach?”

“Who says we’re at the beach?”

She laughs. “The waves and the sand in my shoes were a tip off.”

“I’ll take it off in two seconds.” I steer her further along, then square her body in the right direction before taking off the blue bandana.

She rubs her eyes, squinting at the brightness of the low sun.

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