Page 139 of Reverie

“Will you wear it, Winter?” Hunter asks. His eyes lock on mine.

I’ll never take it off.

“Yes,” I say. “I will.”

Hunter slides the ring onto my finger, and while it’s only marginally more romantic than when he placed the fake engagement ring on my finger in Misha’s driveway, I know I mean my words.

I won’t ever take it off, even if keeping it on kills me.

Jared disturbs the moment by coming around the back of the vehicle and opening Hunter’s door.

Keeping his voice low, he says to Hunter, “The manifest states you’re headed to Costa Rica, but a divergent plane will cross paths near Cuba. Afterward, you’ll change course and land in Martinique. You’ll take the yacht to sail to?—”

“Ah, got it, Jared,” Hunter rushes to add. The blonde man nods and I tilt my head toward Hunter, curious about where we’re going.

When I told him that I’d marry him but I required a honeymoon, even if it were a couple of days, he said he’d surprise me.

I was hoping we wouldn’t go to Paris. So I’m glad we’re not going there.

Hunter nods, sticking his hand out to the tall blond to shake his hand. “Thank you, Jared. Take care of the rest of my family, will you?”

My breaths get short thinking about leaving August behind.

“I’ll protect them with my life, sir,” Jared says.

We exit, and Hunter takes my hand, guiding me up the staircase to the plane.

Getting on Hunter’s plane gives me a strange sense of time. The last time I was here, I was leaving the hospital in Asheville following my abduction. That was a short flight, under three hours, and I was so out of it from the meds and trauma that I didn’t take in much of the scenery.

That time, when Hunter brought me back to the sleeping quarters, I was only able to take in a few details.

Now, I’m a little stunned by the opulence of the plane. Creamy, tan leather seats with tons of leg space line the sides of the plane, and in the center of the aircraft, there’s a small living room area bisecting the forward from the aft. There’s a television on one side of the plane, and on the other, there’s a bench seat that’s as long as a standard-issue sofa and a table affixed to the floorboards.

Beyond that area is a small galley to complement the larger one at the front of the plane, a toilet room, and then at the back, I spy the sliding door for the main bedroom and bath.

Hunter’s hand just above the curve of my ass causes me to stop gawking and take a seat.

When I’m buckled in, he leans over me with one hand on the back of my chair and the other on my armrest. “I’ll be right back, Sunbeam. Just need to talk to the pilots,” he says. He leans closer, his face inches from mine, and pauses.

It’s like he doesn’t know if it’s okay to kiss me or embrace me or take me on the floor and make love to me.

In the end, he gives me a chaste kiss on the forehead and turns toward the cockpit. When he greets the captain, he unbuttons the wrists of his shirt and rolls up his sleeves.

I pull out the iPad Misha gifted me, retrofitted by Max for security, to message August one final time before takeoff.

I miss you already, kid. Your dad told me that you have a new game on the way. Want to play it together when I get back?

It takes a few minutes for August to reply.

Yes.

His simple, one-word response makes me miss him even more. Before I can write another message, he replies again.

Thank you for letting Kitty stay behind with me. We will miss you.

He sends a picture of himself and Kitty. August doesn’t smile, but his eyes are almost fixed on the camera lens. Kitty’s tongue hangs out on the side. Their expressions both seem happy.

I love you. And I also feel immense affection for the fetus. Please come back soon.