“But first hot chocolate.”
He winks. “I’ve got you.”
“You are a god among men.”
He climbs in and turns the radio on low before setting off for hot chocolate and donut holes. I eat them with a groan of pleasure, grinning when I see the tent in his jeans.
“You are a wicked woman.”
I plan to show him how wicked I can be. But after I’ve eaten, I slip into a food coma and sleep the rest of the way, only waking when I feel Ambros’s hand on my face. My eyes flutter open, and I smile. But when I see the tightness of his expression, I tense, sitting up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. And before you ask, everyone is fine.”
“Okay, so why do you look so worried?”
“Because I did something. Something I hoped would help, but I’m worried I might have misjudged and fucked everything up.”
I unbuckle my belt, fist his T-shirt, and yank him close. “You love me?”
“More than I ever thought possible.”
“Would you ever go out of your way to hurt me on purpose?”
“Christ, no.”
“Do you like making me cry?”
“What the fuck?—”
I cover his mouth with my fingers. “Exactly. There will always be things that trigger me, things that hurt me, things that scare me, but I know you. I trust you. You would never do anything to hurt me if you could help it, but you can’t bubblewrap me. Sometimes it has to hurt for it to heal. I trust that whatever this is…you did it for the right reasons.”
He looks at me like he often does, like he can’t quite believe I’m real. He slides his hands into my hair and holds me to him as he kisses me. When he pulls back, he presses his forehead to mine.
“Promise me if it’s too much, you’ll tell me, and I’ll get you out of here.”
“I promise.”
He blows out a steadying breath. “Okay, now or never. Close your eyes for me, okay.”
I grin and do as he asks. He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose before climbing out of the truck and closing the door. I turn toward my door when I hear it open and feel his hands move to my hips as he lifts me. My hands go to his shoulders as he slowly lowers me down his body to the ground. We stand there in silence for a moment, the soft breeze blowing my hair across my face.
“You ready?”
“I’m ready.”
I hear him swallow as he turns me. “Open your eyes, angel.”
I do as he asks, taking in the giant wooden archway in front of us, covered in twisted vines and a rainbow of climbing flowers. In the center of the arch is a white wooden sign with “Forget-Me-Not Sanctuary” etched in fancy script.
“Where are we?” I whisper as I move through the arch and come to a halt. I know this place. This place was my hell. So why does it look a little like heaven right now?
“Ambros?”
He moves up behind me, his hands sliding around my stomach, his chin resting on my shoulder. “You know we burned the house down, right?”
I nod, flashes of the past echoing in my head.
