Page 188 of Dangerous Encore

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2

Kit

Of courseI want to marryPiper.

What kind of questionisthat?

I stare back into my fiancée's expressiveblueeyes.

They're filledwithhurt.

Hurt Ican'tfix.

I press my palm against her lower back to pull hercloser.

She lets out a soft sigh, but none of the frustration in her expressioneases.

"I want to marry you." I draw circles over her lower back with my fingertips. "I want youforever."

Only, there's no conviction in myvoice.

That doesn't make anysense.

I do want to marryPiper.

I do want herforever.

Every single pieceofher.

So why is there this tension in mychest?

Why do I suddenly feel likealiar?

"You need to take this gig, baby. You've been talking about it nonstop." Whatever fucked up shit is going on in my head, she's not going to throw away an opportunity for me. Not one she wants this badly. "We'll figure therestout."

"When?" She presses her lips together. "We won't get to really be together untilAugust."

"You can come to Europe with us. Youknowthat."

"I know." Her eyes go to the ground. She doesn'tbuythis.

I don't buy iteither.

Only I don'tgetwhy.

Everything I'm sayingistrue.

Piper is my beaconofhope.

My silverlining.

Myfuckingsun.

Every cheesy metaphor in the world—it applies to her. To what she doestome.

"We have time." There's no reason why we need to get married thissummer.

But there's no reason why weshouldn't.

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