“Maybe, but you don’t know that. Small changes can result in huge things never coming to pass. They call it the butterfly effect.”
“I don’t believe in that. I believe in twin flames. And you are mine.”
Jesus, the way he could make my heart flutter. “Why were you not this guy when we first started dating? I love this guy.”
“You love the other guy too.”
“Oh, I love to hate the other guy.”
“I don’t think you know what hate is. If you did, you’d never have come around to me. That was your body telling you one thing and your head telling you another. I’ve always been the same guy. You only saw what you wanted to see.”
“Because I was scared.”
“Because you were scared,” he agreed. “But, Becca, I was just as scared. If I hadn’t been, I would have laid myself at your feet far sooner than I did.”
“Were you really going to just stay on Bainbridge Island with me forever?”
Something flickered in his gaze. Fear? Maybe apprehension? “No, no. We’re not allowed to talk about the real world, remember? I’ve whisked you away to faerie land. This is the only thing we can talk about. Here and now. This moment. No plans for the future. We’ll tackle those later, all right?”
“Should we check in? See how things are going back home?”
“As in check in with my mum?”
“Yeah, make sure she’s okay. See if your dad headed your warning or if he went over there anyway.”
He pulled this phone out of his pocket and frowned. “Bugger.”
“What? What happened?”
“Well, it looks like my relative anonymity is over.” He held out his phone, and I saw a message from Ethan Byrne.
Byrne: Does this mean I have to call you your lordship now?
“There was an article posted on Hockey News all about the NHL’s secret royal. I’m not even royalty. This is bloody ridiculous.”
“Is it going to affect your career?”
“No, but it’s going to give me a lot more unwanted attention. And the press loves a scandal. They love anything to do with nobility, even if they don’t understand it.”
“I guess I don’t really understand either, because it’s archaic.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing special. Some fat king gave someone in my family a title a long time ago. It doesn’t make us any more special. It just makes us rich. Nobility was the original popular crowd.” Heaving a sigh, he grinned at me. “At least it’ll be good for business.”
“What?”
“I’m nobility, so that makes you, my wife, nobility by default. Everyone will want to come to the bakery owned by a Scottish lady.”
“Speaking of, I should check in with Scarlett.”
“Haven’t you been?”
“Yes, I’ve texted with her every day.”
“And how’s the new kitchen?” His eyes sparkled with interest.
“Oh, it’s a dream. Really. And so is our staff. We’re still selling out every day. And we’re booked solid for the next nine months for catering.”
“That’s fantastic.”