“You’re very wrong, wife. We’re already doing this.”

“Dillon.” I soften my voice, leaning closer. “We each need some time to think about this, to really think about what it is we’re doing. Maybe having a night apart—”

“Not happening.” He cuts me off with a shake of his head then leans across me, pulling my seatbelt over my lap and locking it.

“Yes it is.” I smack his hands away.

“It most definitely is not.” He tags the back of my neck, pulls me close, and kisses me until my body melts into his. “We’ll stay at your place,” he whispers against my lips, and my eyes flutter open.

“You’re so annoying,” I breathe, seeing him smile before he lets me go and grabs my hand, holding it tight until we’ve landed, and then keeps ahold of it until he’s forced to release me so he can carry our bags.

“A limo, seriously?” I roll my eyes when I realize what car he’s leading me to.

“It’s just a car, baby.”

“No, a car is just a car. This is a limo, there are only two of us. We should have used my Uber. It would have cost a whole lot less,” I mutter to his back as he drags our suitcases behind him toward the driver.

“Maybe they have champagne inside.” He grins at me over his shoulder, and I don’t want to think he’s funny, but I find myself smiling back at him anyway.

“You went to Vegas single and came back married.” Our driver, who apparently knows Dillon, laughs, giving him a handshake and a pat on the back. My breath freezes in my lungs and the sound of their voices fades away.

Yes, we have been married for three days and sixteen hours, but it felt different when we were in Vegas. It felt, almost unreal. But now we’re back in Tennessee. Tennessee… where my family lives. Tennessee… where my dad, who owns a plethora of guns, lives. Tennessee… where no one knows about our marriage, but where my very nosey family all resides and is liable to find out. I know my mom is already wondering what’s going on. Dillon had a phone delivered to me at the hotel the afternoon we woke up married so I have been able to talk to her everyday as promised, and she knows Dillon and I were sharing a room, since Dillon wouldn’t keep his hands off me or mouth closed when I was on the phone her.

“Baby.” Coming out of my daze, I blink as his hand comes to rest against my cheek. “Hey,” his face dips closer and his eyes search mine, “are you okay?”

“How am I going to tell my family about this?” I hold up my hand and point at my ring, which I took off once, only to have it shoved right back on my finger with a growl telling me not to take it off ever again.

His face softens and his hand slides around the back of my neck. “We’ll tell them together.”

“My dad owns guns, lots and lots of guns. This isn’t going to end well for you.”

“It will be okay.”

“I think something happened to you. I’m pretty sure you’ve lost your mind.” I start to panic as visions of him being chased by my dad, wielding a shotgun, flash through my mind.

“Stop worrying. It will work out.”

“It won’t.”

“It will, trust me.”

Snorting, I mutter, “Last time I trusted you, we ended up married.”

“Well, that can’t happen again, now can it?” He smiles smugly, and I let out a huff.

“At least there’s that.” Chuckling, he takes my hand and helps me into the back seat then gets in behind me as I move to sit across from him.

“Come over here.” He pats the seat next to him as the driver shuts the door.

“Why?”

“I want to tell you something.”

“You can tell me from here.”

“Come here,” he repeats, and I raise a brow then squeak when he leans forward, wraps his hands around my waist, and drags me to straddle him.

“Dillon!” I snap, and his hands slide up under my shirt, causing goose bumps to break out across my skin and butterflies to dance in my stomach.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he mumbles, and I still while one of his hands slides farther up the back of my shirt and the other moves to rest on the underside of my jaw. “Far too perfect to be real. I thought that since the moment I first saw you.”

“You did?” I question, leaning forward, lost in the look in his eyes and his softly spoken words.

“I did,” he confirms, sliding his fingers through the hair at the back of my head, pulling me closer. “I didn’t know all of you then. I had no idea how damn smart you are, how funny you are, how caring and compassionate—”

“You forgot crazy,” I whisper, cutting him off, and he smiles.

“Crazy, so damn crazy.” He closes the minute distance between us, kissing me gently then pulling back.

“I didn’t know you even liked me,” I tell him, running my fingers through his hair, and his body stiffens. “Dillon.”

“I couldn’t tell you. I needed to take care of a few things before I even attempted to get into your head.”

“What?” I lean back, and his hands move to my waist, holding tight.

“Isla and me, there’s—”

“Nope.” I attempt to struggle free, but his grip tightens. “Let me go.”

“Never,” he growls, pulling me closer.

“Dillon.”

“I won’t talk about her now, but we will be talking about her. You need to understand.”