by Ana Sparks
“Well, time to bite the bullet,” I said, reaching out to rub his arm soothingly.
He met my gaze, smiling and nodding with more confidence. We got out of the car just as an older couple stepped out of the house, a handsome gentleman that I could immediately place as Owen’s father looking rather shocked to see us. Owen parted his lips to speak, but his mother rushed towards him with a squeal of delight.
“My baby! It’s been so long since you’ve been home; look at you! All grown up and handsome,” she cooed, reaching out to smoosh his cheeks.
He blushed, drawing her into his arms and hugging her tightly.
“It’s so good to see you, Mom,” he said quietly.
She smiled, wiping a happy tear away from her eye. Then, she turned to look at me. I offered a little wave, not sure what else to do—it wasn’t like I’d ever met a boyfriend’s parents before. Her eyes widened, and she rushed towards me with an excited flap of her hands.
“And who is this? Gary, Owen has brought a girlfriend home,” she called.
I giggled nervously, suddenly aware of the intense stare of Owen’s father. He stepped towards me, his expression cold for a moment before he broke into a smile. He offered his hand, and I shook it firmly.
“So, you must be the one who convinced our son to pay a visit,” he guessed.
I shook my head, gesturing for Owen to step closer.
“No, this was all Owen’s idea, sir. He really wanted to see you. Both of you,” I said reassuringly.
Gary looked unsure, but Owen stepped towards him and offered a hug. The two smiled before embracing, and I felt honored to be witnessing such a moment—the moment a family reformed. I felt myself being pulled into a group hug with Owen and his parents, feeling a bit awkward but more pleased than anything.
“So, what brings you two here? Not that I’m complaining by any means, but it is something of a shock to see you, Son,” Gary inquired, and Owen stammered for a moment before pulling me forward.
“I wanted…I wanted you to meet my girlfriend, Emily. I thought it was only right that you meet the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with,” he said, regaining his confidence towards the end of his statement.
His father looked impressed, and it was my turn to have my cheeks smooshed by his mother. I laughed a bit at the attention, allowing Owen and his parents to lead me inside. They exchanged chit-chat as we walked, and I wondered if they liked me as much as they seemed to.
We stayed for dinner, but Owen seemed to have a lot on his mind as he picked at his food. His parents chatted amicably with me, but I couldn’t help feeling as if something were wrong. I didn’t quite understand why my boyfriend looked so troubled, and every time I caught his eye, he averted his gaze away. I frowned, glancing back towards the homemade beef stew his mother had prepared.
“This stew is better than anything I’ve ever had in a restaurant,” I said amicably, and Owen’s mother, Barb, looked tickled pink by the comment.
“I’ll have to write down the recipe for you, honey. Owen loves…well, he usually loves the stew I make. Honey, is there something bothering you?” she asked gently, reaching out to touch her son’s hand.
Owen flinched, glancing towards me with something akin to fear in his eyes.
“I’m fine, Mom. I just—” he paused, pushing his chair back from the table and standing up.
His parents stared curiously at him, and I was ready to make an excuse for us to leave the table, but Owen circled around to my chair, fumbling in his pockets. I tilted my head curiously, watching with confusion as he dropped down to one knee and pulled something out of his pocket.
I felt my heart catch in my chest, my pulse quickening as I realized just what was happening.
“Owen…?” I inquired nervously, meeting his gaze.
He managed a smile, and his mother gasped as he popped open the velvet ring box gripped in his hand. I had seen my share of diamonds in my lifetime—my father threw gifts around like it was going out of style—but while it was obvious that Owen hadn’t been able to afford some overly expensive ring, it was without doubt the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Emily, there aren’t a lot of things I’ve been sure of in my life. I wasn’t sure about my future, I wasn’t sure about what I wanted to do with my life, and I definitely didn’t know if I would ever fall in love. That is, until I met you. The time we’ve spent together has been the happiest of my life. I would give anything and everything in the world to make you as happy as you’ve made me.” He paused, taking the ring out of the box.
Watching as he struggled with his words, I resisted the desire to scream out an answer. I would let him take his time and get out everything he wanted to say. He seemed appreciative of my patience, gripping me by the hand.
“I love you,” I said, and he smiled as if it were the first time I’d ever said it.
“I love you too, baby. Which is why I want to know…Emily Jasmine Madden, will you make me the happiest man on the planet and do me the honor of being my bride? Will you marry me?” he asked.
Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I offered him my hand while silently nodding, not trusting myself to speak.
Owen laughed, slipping the ring onto my finger before leaping to his feet. He gathered me in his arms, pressing a kiss to my forehead as his parents clapped joyously in the background.
“Congratulations! Oh my, I’m so happy I could see this moment,” Barb squealed, while Gary smiled, giving us a nod of approval. “I just have one teensy tiny question, you two,” the older woman continued.
Owen looked at her as if he could predict what she was going to say.
“What is it, Mom?” he asked, glancing towards me with a sly smile.
“When can I expect grandkids?” she said seriously.
Owen grimaced, but it was all I could do to keep from erupting in laughter.
“First, the wedding. Then, grandkids,” Owen’s father said firmly.
I couldn’t have agreed more.
Chapter 24
Emily
Our wedding was a small ceremony that was only made possible by selling the necklace my father had given me what seemed an eternity ago. Of course, I’d asked his permission before doing so.
It turned out that my father had turned himself over to the FBI around a week after my disappearance. He was finally ready to make things right, and he could see why I had chosen to leave behind the life that had been forced upon me. We spoke on the phone every few weeks, and I had been to see him in prison.
We’d decided to move to Mexico after our U.S. road trip, having fallen in love with a beach town we found on our travels. It was the perfect mix of what felt like home to each of us—just as tropical and beautiful as Guam and Hawaii. Plus, there was no risk of the FBI finding out Owen had stolen me away and married me.
It was a small ceremony, and a short one as well. Owen and I were eager to get to the house we’d purchased, using what money remained from Owen’s service with the SEALs. I wished my father could have been there to give me away, but things didn’t always go as one might have planned.
However, there was something to be said about pleasant surprises. After all, I’d never planned to get kidnapped and marry my captor, and yet there he stood at the end of the aisle, tears in his eyes as I walked along to the tune of the bridal march.
It was a beautiful moment, but there was something to be said for simplicity. We exchanged our vows, slipped on our rings, and all but danced away from the service. Getting married was the happiest moment of my life by far, but I was also ready to enjoy the honeymoon in our new home.
The house was nowhere near as extravagant as the estate I’d grown up in, but it was still plenty spacious. What it lacked in size, we made an effort to make up for with amenities. We got a jet bathtub and the comfiest couch we could find, and the view from the back porch was truly stunning, looking out over the ocean. My main concern at the time, however, was our king-size bed.
Owen carried me ov
er the threshold of the front door like a proper gentlemanly groom, and as I was carried through the house, I couldn’t help making a mental note of all the places I wanted Owen to make love to me besides the master bedroom. The tub, the sofa, against the refrigerator, and even on the porch all seemed suitable decisions.
For our first time as husband and wife, however, my gorgeous military man wanted to keep it traditional.
My new husband didn’t waste any time in pinning me to the bed, and as much as I wanted to keep my dress from getting rumpled, I was all the more concerned about getting out of it. He helped me to shimmy out of the garment, pulling it off and tossing it to the side of the room as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Truth be told, neither of us seemed to have any concerns while we were in each other’s arms. He kissed me gently, holding his lips against mine in a tender kiss. I pulled him down on top of me, running my hands down his sides as I marveled, not for the first time, at how handsome he was in his suit.
A shame to rip him out of it, but I had never been the most patient woman in the world.
“If you don’t take that suit off, I’m not going to guarantee it will survive as anything more than tatters on the floor,” I said, my voice husky.
He laughed, moving to unbutton his jacket so slowly that I was sure Christmas would come and go before he got it off.
I pouted, trying to help him as he disrobed. However, he simply took off his tie, tying my hands behind me so I couldn’t jump the gun.
“You’ve gotten so impatient; it’s hard to believe you went 21 years without having sex, and now look at you,” he teased, grinning cheekily.
I whined, but didn’t tug too hard at the tie restraint. Honestly, it was kind of sexy, and I didn’t want to get out of it until my new husband directly expressed that he wanted me to.
He pressed me back against the bed, looking so deeply into my eyes it was like he could see my very soul.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?” I asked, breathing a sigh as he ghosted his palm to my breast.
He hummed under his breath, seeming to give the question some thought.
“I guess since I asked you to marry me a month ago. What a long and tortuous month it must have been,” he teased.
All right, so maybe I was being just a tiny bit dramatic. How could anyone blame me? I was the luckiest woman in the world, with the most handsome husband in the world.
“I never actually thought I’d wind up married. Excuse me for being a little excited,” I sighed, tilting my head back as he kissed my neck and began to suck.
I could tell that he was going to leave a mark, and I had no doubt that marking me as his own was very much all part of his plan. He nipped at the bruising skin, kissing his way down my chest. He had offered to shave his stubble for the wedding, but I so loved the feeling of it against my skin. It tickled, feeling the slightest bit scratchy against my breast, but I loved every minute of it.
“Well, just because you’re excited doesn’t mean you get to be a bad girl,” he teased, tracing his fingertips down the expanse of my stomach.
As he dipped his hand beneath my underwear, I breathed a sigh as he dragged his finger along my lower lips, gathering the moisture there. I’d been turned on from the moment I saw him in his fancy suit, but I wasn’t going to give him a big ego by saying as much.
Owen laughed mischievously, and I grumbled, feeling even more moisture gather in spite of myself.
“What’s so funny?”
“You either got worked up really fast, or you’ve been thinking about this all day,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes, giving my hips a suggestive little jerk.
“You say that like you haven’t been thinking about it all day. Anyway, enough talk—aren’t you going to show me why I married you?”
He didn’t seem to mind my attitude, pulling down my panties and watching me lovingly.
“And here I thought it was for my personality,” he teased, shifting out of his dress pants and boxers.
I sighed as he lowered himself on top of me, nudging my thighs gently and stroking himself all along my entrance. I whined at the teasing, but he didn’t seem inclined to give me what I wanted all that soon.
I parted my lips to complain, only for a sharp squeal to erupt from me as he plunged inside.
“Mouthy, mouthy girl,” he scolded, grinning.
“Oh, you love what I do with this mouth,” I moaned, wishing my hands were free to tangle in his golden locks.
There was something about not being able to touch him, though, something that brought me to new heights. He moved slowly, patiently, working me up to an agonizingly pleasurable peak before I could even properly beg him to make me his. That didn’t stop the words from spilling past my lips, however. I wrapped my legs around him, the one thing I could do to edge him closer.
Continuing to keep an even and steady pace, I wasn’t sure how many orgasms he’d subject me to until he finally came. I thoroughly enjoyed the process of finding out, though.
When he pressed his lips desperately to mine and began to piston furiously inside of me, I had already orgasmed four times. When he emptied himself inside of me, filling me to the brim with even a bit of spillover, it made for the fifth.
“Oh my God,” he moaned, falling limp beside me.
He drew me into his arms, resting his chin atop my head as I nuzzled into his chest.
“So, this is what it’s like to be married,” I murmured, sighing as he untied my hands.
I caressed his cheek, feeling so much love in that moment that I thought my heart might burst. He seemed equally taken with the moment, tilting his head to meet my gaze.
“Well, that’s the fun part, anyway,” he replied.
I rolled my eyes, giving him a light shove.
“One of the fun parts. It’s exciting to think about the future we’ll spend together, isn’t it? Wild and free, without a care in the world. We have the rest of our lives to have fun together. I can’t think of anyone I would rather spend my days with. I love you, Emily,” he murmured.
I felt tears pool in my eyes and I gave him a peck on the lips.
“I love you, too. Here’s to our future. Here’s to love. Here’s to us,” I said softly.
He chuckled, his breathing slowing to an even pace as he gave himself to the exhaustion of a long day spent making memories. I took comfort in the fact that we had years to make millions of wonderful memories.
Placing my hand on my stomach, I giggled as I wondered if we would be fulfilling his mother’s wishes sooner than anyone expected. Happily, I fell asleep, knowing only one thing for certain about our future.
I would never have to live in a cage again.
Epilogue
Emily
Five years had come and gone, and while we hadn’t conceived on the day of our wedding, on our four-year anniversary, I had given birth to a beautiful bouncing boy. He was the most amazing thing I had ever laid eyes on, and every day I spent taking care of him was even more fulfilling than the last. I had adjusted to being a mother better than expected, especially considering that I’d never even considered having children before I met Owen.
Funny, how love can change a person.
That knowledge of how dizzying being in love could be made it a little easier to forgive my father for the mistakes he’d made in my life. He took a plea deal with the federal government, and after serving his five-year sentence, he moved back to Guam with the promise that he would live on the straight and narrow.
I couldn’t be sure that he would keep his word, but I entertained the hope, at the very least.
When he was freed, the first thing he did was ask us to visit. He wanted to see his daughter again, meet his son-in-law, and more than anything, he wanted to meet his grandson. My father had never been the sort to push the idea of grandchildren, but since Ron was born, it was only fair that he got to meet him.
Admittedly, I was a bit reluctant
. My father claimed he had changed for the better, and he had been compliant with the feds, but I was sure that old habits died hard. However, Owen was determined that I should reward my father’s efforts in some way, so in spite of my reluctance, I agreed to fly out.
I knew the massive home that had once been ours was long gone, turned over to the FBI. Everything from my childhood, every memory, had essentially been wiped away. Still, I was blessed that my father seemed to be making an effort.
“Don’t be so fussy,” Owen murmured, and I glanced at him with a curious expression from my seat beside him.
“He’s not that fussy, especially considering it’s his first time on an airplane,” I said defensively.
My husband grinned and gave our son a little tickle on the stomach.
“I wasn’t talking to him, honey. I haven’t seen you look so anxious since we found out you were pregnant. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think. It’s not like your dad is gonna take our son and lock him up or something,” he assured me.
I sighed, not having realized that it was one of my fears until Owen pointed it out. They say a parent never loves anything more than their child…at least, until they have grandchildren. I could imagine that my father would want to protect little Ronnie from the world, but I was determined to let my son have a normal life.
“I just wish…I wish my dad was more—I don’t know—normal,” I sighed.
Owen laughed, reaching out to pinch my cheek.
“Well, if your father was a perfectly sane man, you and I never would have met. Our son wouldn’t exist. It’s nicer to think that the bad things in life happen for a reason, you know?” he said gently.
That thought was blessedly enough to keep me preoccupied for the rest of the flight.
When we touched down in Guam, I was nearly crippled with anxiety upon seeing the familiar sights. It should have been a comfort, but there was still an irrational fear that my father would trap all of us. The thought faded as Owen placed a gentle hand on my hip, holding me close as we walked out of the airport.
