Free Prince Charming Can Wait (Ever After) by Stephanie Rowe Page B

the dampness of the water, the violence of the wind... "I feel alive," she shouted. "It's incredible!"
    "I know!" Harlan tapped her shoulder and pointed ahead to the right. "Your place is in there. Start heading that way."
    Regret filled her as she turned the boat, slowing it slightly as they began to head toward the dark shapes of the wooded land. The wind began to die down, and the boat slid more deeply into the water as she slowed further. The white of her dock was up ahead, barely visible in the water. With a sigh of regret, she slowed the boat all the way, until it was drifting, momentum still carrying it toward her home.
    Harlan hadn't moved away from her, his body framing hers possessively. "I always forget how much I miss the lake until I come back," he said. "Then once I take the boat out, I remember why I keep coming back."
    Her house loomed in the night. It was a small, one-bedroom cabin that had been so ramshackle that she'd been able to afford it on the small amount she'd saved from her job. Preston's prenuptial agreement left her with nothing, but she didn't want his money tainting her cabin anyway. It was her sanctuary, a place for art and solitude, but now, with the energy of Harlan circulating around her, it seemed empty and lonely, a place that was missing life.
    The boat bumped against the dock, and Harlan leaned past her to grab the pilings. He held onto the post, but she didn't move to get out. Sitting on the dock was the blanket that she'd wrapped around herself when she'd been out there crying, before Harlan had appeared. She'd been crying because she was alone, and because the little girl she'd dreamed of saving would never be coming home. It hadn't been treasured solitude; it had been devastating loneliness...which had been completely chased away by a boat ride with Harlan.
    "How come you don't have a boat?" he asked.
    She shrugged, finally pulling herself together. "I don't know. I never thought about getting one. Money."
    "You can use mine while I'm gone." He took her hand to help her out of the boat. "It will be good for it to get some use. Just make sure to have someone pull it out of the lake before the ice comes in."
    The dock was cold and damp under her bare feet, and Emma shoved her hands into her front pockets.
    Harlan nodded at her. "You're losing something."
    She looked down and saw a black thread from her shorts was hanging partway out of her pocket. It had twirled around her bare finger like a ring... She froze, her heart starting to pound as she recalled Chloe's words about why she would never get selected to adopt Mattie. You're a single, unrelated woman—
    She couldn't change the fact she wasn't related to Mattie, but what if she had a family? A husband? A real home? Would that help?
    "Don't let the bastard win," Harlan said quietly, as he shifted into reverse. The engine hummed as the boat began to slide away from the dock. "Do more than survive, Emma. You deserve it."
    Emma looked up sharply as a strip of moonlight swept across his face. His features were dark and hooded, his mouth tight, his body tense. He was going back to hell, and they both knew it. He wasn't coming back. He would go on missions until he died, whether it was this one, or a later one. He would never come back to claim her... If she married him, he would never come back to destroy her as her husband. "Harlan!" She ran to the edge of the dock. "Wait!"
    He shifted into neutral, but the boat continued to drift away. "What?"
    Her heart started to pound, and fear swirled around her. "I—" She stopped, her breath tight in her chest.
    Harlan shifted the boat into forward gear. The boat jerked, and then switched direction, moving ever so slowly toward her. He put it back in neutral as he neared and caught the piling again. His gaze met hers, dark and foreboding. "Tell me."
    She stared at him. "Okay," she whispered.
    His brow furrowed. "Okay, what?"
    Oh, God. Could she really say it? She gripped the string, twisting it so