Dammit, Jones! Her mind quoted Jessica.
“The feeling is mutual.” She began to shut the door then poked her head inside. “Cage?”
He turned. “Yes?”
“You want to know what comes after the epilogue?”
“What?”
“A new book filled with endless possibilities.”
He grinned. Yup, the guy would definitely come look for her. In. New. York.
Dammit, Jones!
*
Luke drummed the top of the steering wheel with his hands. He was tired of driving around the block.
“You didn’t need to honk the horn.” Lake slipped in the seat and slammed the door shut.
“So what did you find out?”
“He’s gorgeous. He plays quarterback for the Cornhuskers. Oh … and I think he loves me and my prosthetic leg.”
Luke pulled out and stopped before shifting into drive, giving her the hairy eyeball.
Lake’s smile morphed into a frown. “He said he doesn’t know where she is or even could be.”
Another dead end. Luke hoped Jackson would find out more helpful information from Knox. The most unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach kept his mind on Jessica and the belief that she was in some kind of trouble or sending out an SOS that only he could detect.
All they could do at that point was wait, so he headed back to the hotel. Lake rubbed the top of her leg, staring out the window.
“Your leg bothering you today?”
“No.” She stilled her hand. “It’s just habit. That’s all”
He detected disappointment in her voice. “I have no doubt that you’re right.”
Lake glanced at him. “What? That it’s a habit?”
“No. I have no doubt that you’re right about Cage. I’m sure he does love you and your leg. Any guy would be a fool not to.”
She smiled and moved her hand to his leg. “We’re going to find her, Luke.”
He nodded. They would find Jessica. He just wasn’t sure what shape she would be in when that time came, or if she’d still be Jessica at all.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Knight
Jackson finished drying the last pan while watching Luke and Lake drive out of the development. The Days were no longer dead. Their past had caught up to them. Their past could put everyone involved in danger. It was time to go.
“I have to leave.” His eyes stayed focused on the slushy street. “I want you to come with me.”
“Sure. Where are we going?” Ryn took the pan from him, hanging it from the S-hook above the stove. “I hope to get a Christmas tree for this place. You could use some holiday cheer around here.”
Her comment, although oblivious to the true meaning behind his words, was just one more reason he had to take her with him. The last time Jackson lived in a home with a Christmas tree was his senior year of high school. The beginning of the end of his life as he knew it. He wanted a home, a wife, and a slew of holiday cheer. Jude wanted it too.
They could start over. He would run forever and take on a hundred new identities if they could be together. Jackson’s home would be his wife, and as long as they were together … he would always be home.
“We’ll take Gunner and Maddie too.”
She laughed, sliding her arms under his and hugging his back. “Gunner won’t love tree shopping and it’s too cold to leave him in the car. And Maddie? Pfft … feel free to call her, but I’m certain she will laugh in your face.”
He laced his hands with hers. “She can finish school someplace else.”
Ryn eased around his body to face him. Confusion lined her brow. “What are you talking about?”
“Marry me.”
“I feel like … we’ve had this conversation before.”
“We did. But most proposals mean ‘let’s be engaged and eventually get married.’ Like putting something on layaway. I don’t want to be engaged. I want to marry you—now.”
“Now?”
“Well, it’s Saturday. We’ll have to wait until Monday. Marry me Monday.”
Ryn squinted. “Are you pregnant?”
He smiled, just barely. She didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation. How could she?
“If I say yes, will you make an honest man of me?”
“Maybe. Are you sure it’s mine?”
Threading his fingers through her hair, he bent down and whispered over her lips, “I’m sure I’m yours. Just … say yes.”
“Jackson—”
He kissed her. It was unfair. Sexual coercion.
“Say yes.” He bit her lip, dragging it through his teeth. If he had to strip her down and use his tongue to make her agree to his request, he’d do it. A yes was a yes. He’d take it and run—run with her and never look back.
Her eyes answered him first. He loved her eyes. They were innocent. In spite of the hell her body endured, her soul had the innocence of a child. Ryn spoke in kindness, loved with a bared heart, and lived with a spirit that not even Preston Iverson could break.
She nodded, pulling her lip from his grip.