Page 51 of Exes and Oh Hell No

“For the honeymoon, I’m thinking of a cabin in the mountains. No cell service. Just you and me. Naked. Tangled up for a week straight.” He glances at me, smirking. “Maybe two weeks. Actually, fuck it. A month.”

I choke on my own breath. “A month?”

“Hmmm. That’ll be tough with hockey season… but over Christmas break? Perfect timing.”

He nods to himself like he just cracked the Da Vinci code.

I wish my damn wrists weren’t bound so I could massage my temples.

My head is pounding from this insanity.

“Can we just… slow down for a minute?”

He turns his head and looks atmelike I’m the unhinged one. “Slow down?” His brows furrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not kidding,” I say, disbelief still coursing through my wildly spinning emotions. “You can’t just marry me because you’re kidnapping me.”

His eyes, which had drifted back to the road, now turn to me again. “I’ve envisioned marrying you since we were kids. But this idea… it’s genius. I mean, we’ve known each other for a long time. Sure, we had that decade we were estranged, but we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

“Ford.” I rub my wrists together, wishing I could get the hell out of these ropes. “Did you get hit in the head with a puck? A stick? Slammed against the boards at some point before the season ended?”

“Not anything I haven’t experienced before.” His energy is frenetic as he squirms in the seat, gesturing with one hand. “We could have a backyard wedding at Gram’s. Or we could rent out a venue. The hotel ballroom is lovely. Huge, and would fit plenty of guests if you wanted to invite?—”

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”I yell, my breath rasping from my lungs, my bound hands shaking uncontrollably. “Ford, this is too much. Too fast. We aren’t even back together, and you’re planning a wedding.”

“What do you mean, we aren’t together?” He shoots me a dark look. “I think everything that’s happened since I set foot in this town indicates we’re together.”

I gape at him, trying and failing to figure out how the fuck his mind works.

“You were scared and in trouble. Who’s the first person you called?”

I blink. “Well, you. But you were also the closest in proximity. It’s not like I could’ve called my parents or best friend.”

“You could’ve called the police, Harper.” His voice is full of exasperation. “But you immediately turned to me.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “Okay, I see your point. But that doesn’t?—”

“You admitted that you broke up with me, not because you weren’t in love with me, but because of your hang-ups. Your insecurities. You thought you were ‘doing what’s best for me.’ Letting me be free because you didn’t think you fit in my world.” He turns those sparkling blue eyes on me, drawing me into his madness. “Don’t you see, Harper? I never wanted that. I always wanted you. Only you.”

His words are so damn sweet.

They begin melting the ice floating in my veins….

Wait a damn minute.

He’s kidnapping me with the intention of marrying me.

Blowing out a breath, I try to regain some semblance of control. “Ford. A wedding, a marriage, those are permanent. You can’t make rash, seat-of-your-pants decisions?—”

“Yeah, it sounds rash and spur-of-the-moment. But it’snot.It’s something I thought about for years. And you did, too.”

He reaches over, grabbing my cold hands. “Don’t you remember all those conversations we had? The dreams we shared? You’d finish college, and I’d propose. We’d get married, then buy a house. I’d play hockey, and you’d work in PR.”

Nostalgia swims through my veins.

I remember all of it.

Very well.

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