Mark shifts closer to my side, muttering something to Cole, but I can’t understand them.
“Dad?” I try to sound in control. I pull my hand out of Cole’s death grip. I have no idea what to say, so I go with the first thing that comes to mind. “Can I ask you one thing, please?” I take a shaky step forward. The hot, heavy tears pooling in my eyes blur my vision. I hear the sound of guns shifting in the hands of those who are now surrounding us. “Do you remember the year we went up to northern Canada for Christmas? The year before Mom found out she was sick?” He nods, clearly annoyed by this trip down memory lane. “It was around eight at night when the power went out.”
“Six,” he corrects me, flipping the gun for me to hurry up.
“The temperature dropped, and we all huddled by the fire, not caring because we had our tree, the heat, and hot chocolate.”
He rubs his head and mutters, “What’s your point?”
I swallow hard, forcing my emotions back and taking another step closer. Where this bravery is coming from, I don’t know. Maybe my mother is here, or maybe I’m just losing it.
“Savannah, stop,” Cole warns behind me, but I hear him tell the other men to stand back too.
The gun is closer now. I can smell the steel. “Did you love me then?” I hold his gaze and see a tiny flicker in his eyes. His gun wavers a bit, then he points it directly in my face and pulls the trigger.
No.
Pop! Pop! Pop!I’m blinded and falling hard. The breath is knocked out of me as I’m covered with heavy bodies.
I wake to semi-darkness. It takes me a moment to see I’m in Cole’s bed, and he’s standing in front of the fireplace watching the flames and sipping brandy. He’s only in a pair of pajama pants, his bare chest reflecting orange from the fire. He looks so tall and powerful the way his muscles flex, casting shadows. His head presses into his hand gripping the mantel.
I slip out of bed, move behind him, and run my hands along his warm back, feeling him jump then immediately relax. “Hey,” I whisper against his skin, giving him a little kiss, “everything all right?”
“No,” he mutters, downing the rest of his brandy. He puts the glass on the mantel and turns in one swift movement to face me, holding my head in his hands. His eyes are dark; I can see he’s fighting to hold himself together. One hand moves to my hair, entangling his fingers and getting a good grip, while he leans forward and rests his forehead to mine, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t do this again. I can’t have you leave me. I need you, Savannah. I need you to be mine.” His words seem painful.
“I am yours,” I whisper.
His eyes suddenly pop open.
“Marry me now.”
“Now? Cole, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Then tomorrow.” He sounds frantic. “I promise I’ll give you a fancy wedding later, just marry me.”
I lean forward and press my hands over his chest. “Cole, I love you more than the earth needs the sun, but nothing in my life has ever been in my control.Ever.I want to stress about the food, the flowers, and the music, all that ridiculous wedding stuff. Because it will be normal—my normal—and I need normal.” I walk my fingers up his chest. “Please understand how much I need this, how much I want it.”
I can see his internal battle flickering through his eyes. His tongue runs over his bottom lip, the moisture on them catching the flicker of the flames.
“If stressing over food, flowers, and music makes you get your normal, then I’ll wait,” he says quietly. I’m pleased he hears me, but I can see something is still weighing on him.
I start to say more, but he picks me up, laying me back down on the bed. I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead, he lies down next to me, resting his head on my chest, his hand on my tummy. We stay like that for a long time, my fingers combing through his dark, silky hair. The only noise is the soothing sound of the fire. Just as I’m about to fall asleep, he speaks in a quiet, raspy voice.
“Tonight did things to me, Savannah.” He draws a small square pattern along my belly. “Even though we got him, he did pull the trigger.” He clears his throat. “Images flash before my eyes.”
Blinking away tears, I still can’t believe my father pulled a gun on me, let alone actually pulled the trigger. I know why he did it, I know why the gun wasn’t loaded. He was too much of a coward to kill himself, so he made others do it. If he had really wanted to kill me, he’d never do it at an airport with so much security around. My father is—was—a selfish, dangerous man who never thought of anyone but himself.
“I’ve always been in control of my life,” Cole continues. “Since I’ve met you, though, I’ve been tested. I need it to feel right again, so bear with me, because I’m going to be an overprotective husband and father. Give me time to work through these issues, all right?”
I lean down, kissing his hair like he always does mine. “I understand.”
He kisses my belly then shifts so he’s up on his pillow. “I need to hold you.” I roll into him, tucking my head under his neck. I can feel his body battling with itself to work through what he witnessed tonight.
“Cole?”
“Mmm,” he answers like he’s a million miles away.
“How did my father find us at the airport?”