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“He really was.” I grinned and pulled her into my arms. We hadn’t been alone in a while and I wasn’t going to waste a second of it. “You’re going to be my wife.” I meant to say it with some oomph, but my voice cracked and more than just the sand burned my eyes.
She leaned into me and sighed softly. “I wish I could get married to both of you.”
“I do, too. In my heart, he’s my husband.” A bolt of desire and anticipation tore through me. My husband. It felt so right I was so committed to that man. And to this woman. I ran my fingers through Em’s wild curls and kissed the top of her head. “Bash is handling the whole thing so calmly, but if it was me—” I gritted my teeth, wishing this world was set up differently. Why was our love any less valid than the next person’s?
“He’s being so cool about it.” She stared out at the water and dug her toe into the white sand. “I wasn’t kidding. If it was me, I would be so jealous and needy.”
“Me too.” I chuckled and slid her arms around my waist. Her curls were wild out in the salty air, making her look like the goddess she was. I couldn’t believe I would get to marry her—if we ever made it down the aisle.
“I don’t want him to feel left out—”
“Pink, I never plan on letting that man feel left out of anything. You and I both know he’s solidly in our hearts and our lives forever. We don’t need a piece of paper to prove it to ourselves.”
“Still—” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I wish we could do something.”
An idea came to me and I grinned. “There is something.”
Em perked up, scooting closer to me. “Tell me.”
“It’ll take a little of work, but we can start the process as soon as we get home.”
Chapter Thirty
Emily
“Roman’s calling.” Mac’s confused face mirrored my own.
He never called us. And it was the off season. Mac answered and told him he was putting him on speakerphone so we could finish unpacking.
“Hey—” His voice scrambled and I could picture him scratching his head. “We need the three of you down at the arena. Like as soon as possible.”
My head whipped toward the phone, the towel I was throwing in the hamper forgotten about. We all waited, but he didn’t say anything else.
“We can be there in an hour?” Mac looked at us, his answer more of a question for us than a statement for Roman.
Bash and I nodded, and he repeated himself.
“Alright. Any sooner would be great,” he spluttered, like he was being held captive and trying to convey some message without actually saying it.
My stomach dropped, and I leaned closer to the phone. “Are you okay? Like, is this a hostage situation?”
“Just get down here right away.”
He hung up and the three of us exchanged a look.
“We barely got home,” Mac groaned. “Can’t we slowly slip back into normal life? Let our bodies adjust for a day or two—or a month?”
“No rest for the wicked.” Bash smacked his ass as he walked past him, cupping him before sliding his hand up his back. My back erupted in shivers from it.
Mac groaned again and flung his arms around Bash. “I swear to God, Roman better be strung up on the ice, being held hostage by the Instigators or something.”
I shook my head and followed him out the door. My heart was racing, and I hoped it was that simple.
“That’s why you wanted us down here? Why’d you act so anxious?” Mac asked after Roman filled us in.
He shrugged. “No one else could contain their excitement or convincingly lie, so I told Roxie I would be fine to call and then—” His cheeks turned red and he glanced at my best friend, who was waiting for me down the hall. “I learned I’m not good at lying—”
Mac burst out laughing and slapped him on the back. “Sheesh, Roman. You had us so scared.”
