Page 62 of 15 Summers Later

He sighed. “I wish it were that easy. It’s not, especially when I’ve wanted to kiss you for longer than I care to admit.”

She childishly shoved her hands over her ears. “Stop it. I’m not listening. Don’t tell me things like that, Luke. Now that’s one more thing I’ll have to forget.”

He released an unsteady breath. “I’m afraid you’re right. It’s the only option, if we want to maintain the status quo.”

She nodded, even as everything inside her ached to step straight back into his arms.

“For the record, it was a pretty unforgettable kiss, but I’ll do my best to put it out of my head.”

Unforgettable. That seemed a tame word for something she feared would be seared into her memory.

“I should head back. Everyone will be wondering where I am and what animal distracted me this time.”

“I am not sure they would believe you if you said the animal was me,” Madi said.

He gave a rough laugh, studied her for another few seconds, then shook his head. “Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office. Where everything will be professional and comfortable and not weird at all.”

“Actually, I’m off tomorrow, remember? Dentist appointment in the morning, then I’m working at the rescue the rest of the day.”

“Right. I’ll see you Tuesday, then. Good night.”

After he left, she let the dogs inside, then headed for the living room.

As soon as she sank onto her favorite spot on the sofa, Mo jumped up on one side and Mabel jumped up on the other.

She hugged them both to her, grateful to have these two in her life and their constant, steady, uncomplicated love.

17

The mountains become both our refuge and our battleground. Scaling steep cliffs, navigating dense forests and surviving on meager rations, we cling to each other like a lifeline. The whispers of the wind carry tales of freedom, and with each step, we etch a path away from the Coalition’s suffocating grasp.

—Ghost Lakeby Ava Howell Brooks

Ava

Ava stared at the ridiculous array of pregnancy tests spread out in the bathroom.

Morning sun filtered through the gauzy curtains, lighting on all those plus signs.

So this was happening. She couldn’t pretend otherwise now, even in her head. Seven—no, eight—positive pregnancy tests couldn’t be wrong.

She was pregnant. The word echoed in her mind like a secret she had been keeping from herself for weeks.

She and Cullen would become parents in roughly thirty-five weeks, according to her quick mental calculations.

She could picture a girl with his brown eyes and compassion or a boy with that same sweet smile and quick sense of humor.

“Hi, little one,” she murmured, pressing a hand to her abdomen. Already she was linked to the tiny life growing inside her, a life that would depend on her for everything.

What a strange dichotomy, that she felt so connected to Cullen in this moment when they were further apart than they had been since they first met, by both distance and circumstances.

She had to tell him.

She huffed out a breath. She didn’t want to. The pregnancy would change everything between them, could become either a lifeline or a wrecking ball.

What would he think when she showed up out of the blue with news like this? Would he be happy? Terrified? Angry?

Maybe she could wait. Couldn’t she keep this news to herself a bit longer, at least until she had time to process what it would all mean herself?

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