But none of us will ever know the truth so in my heart, I believe Vanessa is my sister.

That’s the way it has to be. Otherwise, I might slowly lose my mind. And I can’t have that happen again.

“What about your dad?” Fable asks, and I wonder if she’s a mind reader. We’re so in tune with each other I wouldn’t doubt it for a second. “And Owen? I want them both there, but …”

“No.” I grab her hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing her knuckles softly. “Hawaii is just for us. Our wedding is just for us. When we come back home, we can have a small reception, or a big one, whatever you want. We’ll celebrate with our friends.” And family, I want to add, but we don’t have much family. Only Dad and Owen. Dad mentioned wanting to put something together for us, some sort of party, and I know she might protest so it’s better not to mention it.

Better not to mention Fable’s mother, either. She doesn’t want her mom around and neither do I. She’s pulled too many tricks throughout Fable’s life, especially lately.

I don’t like that woman. Hell, I’ve never even met her. But Fable hates her and that’s enough reason to feel this way.

“Okay.” She blows out a harsh breath, her lips turning into a tremulous smile. “I’ll look into flights. Ask Jen to take care of Owen, or maybe Wade’s mom.”

“Fable.” Her gaze catches mine when I say her name and I lean in, settling my mouth on hers in a lingering kiss. I taste her, salty sweet. I smell her. I inhale her. The cut in the corner of my mouth hurts but I don’t care. “I love you.” The words are more like breath, exhaled against her lips, and she closes her eyes on a sigh, little tears like shiny diamonds clinging to her lashes.

“I love you, too.” I kiss her again after she says those words, dabbing at the tears with my thumb, catching them on my skin, feeling them sink into me. I’ve caught her tears more times than I can count. I’ve kissed her for what feels like forever. I’ve lost myself deep inside her body over and over.

It never grows old. Ever. My stomach still flips upon that first touch of her lips on mine. The sound of her laughter bleeds through me, suffusing my soul. The sight of her smile, the sound of pleasure that escapes her every single time I enter her …

This woman is just f**king it for me. She’s no longer a girl anymore. The jaded, angry, and defiant girl who was so determined to fight the world is gone, though shades of her still shine through.

I loved that girl. Fiercely. And I love the woman she is now, just as fiercely. She’s my fiancée, my future wife, the future mother of my children. Fable is the woman who will always stand by my side.

Forever.

Chapter Two

Fable

Sometimes, when I least expect it, I’m overcome with gratitude. How thankful I am that this beautiful, gentle, sexy man walked into my life so unexpectedly. It still feels like yesterday that I found him waiting outside for me at La Salle’s, the wind cold, his expression desperate. I hated him on sight. I didn’t care if he was tall and broad and gorgeous. He just wanted to use me.

They all wanted to use me. And like the hopeless girl that I was, I let them.

When Drew asked me to be his fake girlfriend, I was so sure he was like the rest of them. Using me just for his own gain. I also thought he was insane. I told him no. Somehow, I let him buy me anyway. I can still feel shame over that, though it’s stupid. He loves me. I know he does. I can’t get enough of him and he can’t seem to get enough of me.

During that horrible, scary, exhilarating, life-changing week, I forced him to open up to me and I probably shouldn’t have done that …

But I did. I don’t regret it, either. I found out things I suspected but didn’t want to realize. He was so closed off, such a mystery to me. I had to know, though. I had to find out what bothered him. I knew something was suspicious between him and his stepmother, and when she dropped that bomb that his dead sister may have been his daughter …

Well. I was too far in by that moment. I’d slept with him. I was falling in love with him. For once in my life, I wanted to be all in with a guy. I wanted to be there for him, and I was.

Then he left. And nearly broke me.

We came together, he ran away, and then we faced our fears. Together. When you struggle for something so good, so right, you cherish it more. You hold it close, nurture it, protect it, make sure you never, ever let your guard down. That’s how I feel about my almost husband.

For Drew and me, it’s always been about the together. No matter what, it’s me and him.

Forever.

The sun melts into the Pacific, casting its gold-tinged-with-pink glow upon the shimmering deep-blue water. Clouds gather, gray and blue backlit with orange, a dazzling sunset the likes of which I’ve never seen. It’s beautiful. I want to stare at it, get lost in all the colors and textures and scents and sounds, but I can’t. I’m kinda busy right now.

As in, the minister is saying words of love and devotion and marriage and my hands are in Drew’s. He’s watching me, that secret smile on his face, his too blue eyes filled with so much love for me I want to cry.

I hold it in, though, because I’m tough. We’ve had plenty of moments in our lives, both together and apart, to cry over and this is definitely not one of them. We’re supposed to be happy. No tears allowed, right? Drew squeezes my hands, as if he knows I’m thinking about crying and trying my hardest not to, and I offer him a tremulous smile.

We’re alone on Makena Beach on the south side of the island, our only witness the wife of the man officiating our wedding ceremony. Drew’s face is cast in a rosy golden hue; his dark brown hair flutters across his forehead, ruffled by the gentle breeze that washes over us. He’s wearing khaki pants that he’s rolled up a couple of times and a white button-down shirt, and his feet are bare. Looking casual and beautiful and so painfully handsome, I swear just looking at him makes my eyes hurt.

The waves crash gently on the shore. There’s sand in my toes and the hem of my long, white strapless dress is damp, we’re standing so close to the water’s edge.

But I don’t care. I’m too caught up in this moment, too caught up in this man standing before me. Drew repeats the vows the minister says and I press my lips together as I listen to his familiar, deep voice, my vision blurred by tears. I can’t stop them. When it’s my turn to repeat those same sacred vows, my voice wavers, the words thick in my throat, and I see the shimmer of tears in Drew’s eyes, too.

Oh God, we’re a couple of total saps, but I don’t care. We’re in love, damn it. We’ve fought too hard and struggled for too long and we’re reveling in the moment. If we want to cry over our sacred vows to each other, over this, the most important day of our lives, then it’s our prerogative.

Drew’s intense gaze never leaves me as he entwines his fingers tightly with mine, just as tightly entwined as our hearts are. I can’t believe this moment is finally happening. We make promises of love and devotion, both with our words and our hearts and minds. When prompted, I whisper “I do” in my still wavering voice, and Drew smiles at me, squeezing my hands. The two of us, we’re destiny. Fate. Kismet. Whatever you want to call it.

The smile that breaks out across his face when I say those two words steals my breath. My heart. My soul. All of me irrevocably now belongs to him. He slips a band on my finger, the diamonds that surround it so big that I audibly gasp. I hadn’t expected this and I send him a questioning look, but he only smirks at me in return.

My man is constantly full of surprises.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I didn’t want you to ever forget it.”

“With diamonds this big, I never will,” I whisper back, making the minister laugh.

Minutes later, when Drew whispers those same two words that mean he now belongs to me, I slide the platinum band I picked out for him a few days ago onto his ring finger, solidifying our relationship. My heart fills to bursting.

It’s a moment I’ll never forget. Etched into my memory for all time. The sunset, the beach, the look in my husband’s eyes, the way he said he loved me.

We’re freaking married now. My legal name is Fable Callahan. Drew Callahan is my husband.

Wild, huh? I am one lucky, lucky girl.

And I know it.

Drew

It probably sounds dumb, but this night with Fable, our first night together as a married couple, has more significance than any other night I’ve been with her. And we’ve had some major moments. There was that first night in Carmel when she finally broke down all my walls and we had sex. The night when I went to her place in the pouring rain and begged her to let me inside.

The night when we were finally together again after being apart for a couple of months. Until now, that night meant the most to me by far. To lose her and then get her back …

I could go on and on. There’s no turning back now. We’re together. She’s mine and I’m hers, and she’s going absolutely nowhere.

She’s doing whatever preparation a bride does for her groom at this very second, locked away in the bathroom. She’s been in there for almost an hour and I know she took a shower; I heard the water running. I paced the hotel suite, stood out on the lanai checking out the view, finally deciding f**k it when she was taking so damn long.

Now I’m lounging in bed completely na**d and waiting for my wife. I’m impatient, eager to get her beneath me. We’ve been so busy, me with training camp and then both of us in full-on preparation mode when we decided to do this wedding thing.

Practice has been tough. We’ve both been stressed. Our life keeps changing and I’m blown away by it all. I think she is, too. We tend to fall into bed in an exhausted heap together, going right to sleep. Or we have hurried sex—not that it’s bad, but I haven’t necessarily felt connected to Fable lately.

I hope to rectify that.

Finally, the door opens and she walks out, a f**king vision in white silk and lace. The nightgown is long and clings to her shape, thin straps cross her shoulders, and I swear the entire front is made of nothing but sheer lace. As in, I can clearly see her nipples.

I almost choke on my tongue just looking at her.

“What do you think?” She sounds nervous as she does a little twirl, revealing the back of the gown, and holy fuck, I’m done for. Her entire back is exposed, it dips so low, almost to her ass, and my fingers itch to touch her.

“Come here and I’ll show you exactly what I think,” I say when I finally find my scratchy voice.

A smile teases the corners of her lips and she comes to me, the scent of her filling my head, driving me wild. Her hair is down and has a slight wave to it, her face scrubbed free of makeup with cheeks pink from the sun. Her skin practically glows under the faint light from the nearby lamp and I reach out, relief and love and lust flooding my veins when she curls her hand in mine.

“Where did you get it?” She knows exactly what I’m talking about.

She shrugs those pretty, slim shoulders I want to kiss. “Jen took me shopping before we left.”

Fable had gone back home for a few days to spend time with Owen before we flew out. The kid was pissed, complaining that he wanted to go to Hawaii. Not that he was mad at us, but he just … wanted to go to Hawaii. “Well, wherever she took you, I approve.”

She laughs, the sound soft and so deliciously Fable, my skin warms. “I wanted to look pretty for you tonight.”

“You look pretty for me every day and night,” I say automatically because it’s true. Not only is she beautiful on the inside, but she’s f**king gorgeous on the outside. I see the heads that turn when I show up anywhere with Fable beside me. She barely looks at them. Her eyes are only on me.

“You are too sweet.” She dips down and gives me a kiss, but I don’t close my eyes. No, my gaze is locked on her chest, the way the front of her nightgown gapes with the movement, and I catch a glimpse of bare skin and tempting pink nipples.

“Are you checking me out?” she murmurs against my lips just before she pulls away.

“Wearing something like that, you knew this was going to happen.” I give her hand a tug and yank her down so she’s sprawled across me, nothing but hot, smooth skin and silk and lace fabric. “And wait until you see what I’m wearing.”

She wiggles against me, making my c**k rock hard, and I clamp my arm around her waist, holding her still. Carefully I roll her over so she’s on her back, her long blond hair splayed all over the pillow, her green gaze soft as she stares up at me. I kick the covers off and crawl on top of her, kissing her before she can say a word, my tongue tangling with hers for long, consuming minutes until I finally come up for air.

“You’re wearing nothing,” she says breathlessly, and I chuckle.

“I wanted to look special just for you,” I return, my mouth at her neck, licking and nibbling and kissing her fragrant skin.

“Now you’re just making fun.” She swats my shoulder, her voice pouty.

“I would never make fun of my bride on our wedding night.” I lift up so I can look at her, wanting her to see just how sincere I am. “Especially when she looks like this.”

“Aw.” She touches my cheek, her fingers drifting across my skin. “I love it when you say things like that.”

“Well, be prepared, wife of mine. I plan on saying all sorts of corny things to you all night long. And for the rest of your life.” I toy with the thin strap on her shoulder, slipping my fingers beneath it to caress her bare skin. A shiver moves through her, goose bumps scatter across her shoulder, and slowly, I push the sliver of fabric off. The little strap falls easily, sliding down her arm, and I drop kisses along first one bare shoulder, then the other, cupping her br**sts as I play with her ni**les with my thumbs beneath the thin lace.