Page 162 of Royal Bargain
ANNIKA
Inever thought looking at house listings would feel like this—like dreaming out loud with someone who wants the same future as you.
Liam sits next to me on the couch, his arm draped behind me, one foot bouncing with restless energy. “Okay, hear me out,” he says, tilting his phone toward me. “This one’s got a fenced-in yard, a porch swing, and it’s right outside the city. Twenty-minute drive, tops.”
I squint at the listing. “The kitchen’s tiny.”
“Yeah, but look at that bathtub,” he says, waggling his brows. “That thing’s practically a swimming pool. We could both fit. Comfortably.”
I laugh, leaning into him. “That’s what matters to you? The bathtub?”
“Hey, when you’ve been shot at as much as we have lately, you start valuing the little luxuries.”
He’s joking, but there’s a truth underneath it that we both feel. Things have settled down—for now—but the shadows haven’t disappeared completely. There are still people out therewho want to see us fall. That’s why we’re doing this. Looking for someplace new. Something of our own. A fresh start.
Not his warehouse apartment. Not my father’s estate. Not a safe house or a hotel or someone else’s property.
Ours.
He scrolls past a few more listings, then pauses. “What about this one?”
I take the phone from him, studying the photos. A two-story townhouse with ivy on the brick exterior. A little patch of garden in front. Hardwood floors. A fireplace in the living room. And a nursery already painted soft lavender.
My throat tightens.
“This feels like…” I swallow. “Home.”
Liam’s quiet for a moment. Then he leans forward, resting his chin on my shoulder. “So we put in an offer?”
I nod.
But something lingers in the air. That unspoken urgency we’ve both been carrying. As if we're living in a borrowed moment. As if everything could shift again in the blink of an eye.
I turn to him. “Liam?”
He hums in response, already pulling up mortgage calculator apps.
“I don’t want to wait anymore.”
He glances at me, brows furrowed. “Wait for what?”
“For us. For the wedding. For the next step. I don’t want to plan some big event or wait for everything to be perfect. I want something small. Just us. A few people we love. I want to be your wife, now, while we still have this peace.”
His expression softens. “Are you sure? We could still do the big thing someday, you know. Flowers, first dances, a band that plays too loud…”
I smile. “We’ll throw a party later. Right now, I just want you. A dress, a courthouse, or maybe even your brother’s backyard. Idon’t care. I just don’t want to waste another second pretending like we have all the time in the world.”
Liam cups my cheek. “Then we do it. This week. Tomorrow, even.”
“Really?”
He kisses me gently. “Really. You, me, Lily in a tiny flower crown. That’s all I need.”
The morning of my wedding dawns with pale gold light spilling through the windows of the Brannagan estate’s guest room. I should feel nervous. Or overwhelmed. But instead, there’s a quiet calm in my chest, like I finally exhaled after holding my breath for years.
Clary brushes a curl away from my cheek as I sit in front of the mirror. “You’re glowing,” she says with a warm smile.
“I’m sweaty,” I reply, laughing. “There’s a difference.”
