Page 51 of Oliver

I set the photo down and breathed in deeply—once, twice. I wasn’t that girl anymore. The one who froze. The one who followed orders. The one who thought a medal could protect her.

Now I had something worth protecting.

A future. A family. A fire in my chest that burned hotter than fear.

I walked out of the bedroom and handed the photo back to Oliver.

“I saw him,” I said. “He was at the pool. Watching me. He nodded—like I was a mark.”

Oliver’s expression hardened. “Then we know for sure.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Now we make sure heknowsI’m not running this time.”

33

Emery

Beatrice arrived with snacks, a smile, and a duffel bag full of emotional support. “I brought chocolate, dry shampoo, and a taser—just in case your stress level reaches homicide.”

I laughed, for real this time. “You’re a queen.”

“Obviously.” She winked, dropping onto the couch like she owned it. “So. Is your wedding panic scale—up to runaway bride?”

“Somewhere around accidentally marrying the caterer,” I groaned. We still have to stay here, which means the backyard wedding I planned won’t be happening. Everything’s booked for months, and we’re getting married Saturday.”

Beatrice clapped her hands. “Oh, honey. This is your lucky day. I know a place.”

Oliver walked in just as she said it. Shirtless. Damp towel over his shoulder. And Beatrice, bless her, gave a slow whistle. “Okay, yes. Keep him. Good choice.”

“Seriously?” he asked with a grin, kissing my cheek before settling beside me. “What's this about a place?”

Beatrice leaned forward. “I have a friend whose family has a vineyard. Gorgeous view, open space, totally available. Her mom would faint from joy if she got to host a wedding there.”

Oliver looked at me. “It’s your call.”

My heart swelled. “Let’s do it. I always wanted a vineyard wedding, I just didn’t think it would actually happen.”

Beatrice raised her glass of tea. “Boom. Crisis averted. Now go have pre-wedding sex or something, because I have a toddler to get home to.”

Oliver picked me up We have two hours before Olly gets here. Beatrice, you can show yourself out the door.” I was laughing so hard I couldn’t speak.

He shutthe bedroom door with his foot, eyes locked on mine. “You nervous?”

“Not even a little.”

His mouth brushed mine. “Good. Because I’ve been waiting days to do this.”

The kiss turned hungry. Clothes scattered. My back hit the bed with a laugh, and Oliver followed with a groan that sounded like need and home and everything I ever wanted. His hands roamed my body like he was memorizing me all over again, and I let him. His mouth followed his hands, and I’m pretty sure I screamed for more.

Because this was our time, and we loved making each other happy.

No cameras. No swim coaches. No nightmares.

Just the two of us.

“I love you,” he whispered, pinning my wrists above my head with one strong hand.

“I know,” I whispered back. “Now prove it, some more.”

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