Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Damian

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Harper still held the phone against her ear. Her expression was completely blank.

I watched her carefully. Something about the call felt wrong. Very wrong.

“Mom?”

Harper finally spoke again.

A pause followed. Then she suddenly sighed. The tension immediately left her shoulders. Relief flooded her face.

I frowned. That was unexpected.

“What do you mean?”

Another pause. Then Harper started laughing. Actually laughing.

The sound confused me even more.

“You’re impossible.”

I waited. Patiently. Mostly.

When the call finally ended, Harper lowered her phone. I stared at her. She stared back.

Then she laughed again.

“What happened?”

“My mother is not pregnant.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Exactly.”

She dropped onto the chair beside me. Apparently she found the entire situation hilarious.

I still had no idea what was happening.

Harper wiped her eyes. “She was joking.”

I stared at her. “That’s not a joke.”

“I know.”

“That’s a terrible joke.”

“I know.”

“Who jokes like that?”

“My mother.”

Fair point.

I leaned back. Relief settled inside me. Not because of the pregnancy itself. Because the interruption had ruined a very important moment. A moment I wanted back. Immediately.

Harper looked at me. Then her smile slowly faded.

The atmosphere changed again. Soft. Warm. Dangerous. The way it always did when we were alone.

Neither of us mentioned the interrupted conversation. Neither of us needed to.

The words were still there. Hanging between us. Waiting.

I reached for her hand. She let me. Without hesitation. Without thinking. Without pretending.

The simple gesture felt more intimate than anything else.

“Harper.”

Her pulse visibly jumped. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said.”

Silence. The ocean waves filled the distance. The moonlight reflected across the water. Everything felt strangely perfect.

Harper looked down at our joined hands. Then back at me.

“I know.”

Three simple words. Yet somehow they meant everything.

A smile touched my lips. “You do?”

She nodded. “I’ve known for a while.”

That surprised me. “Really?”

“You’re not exactly subtle.”

I laughed. The accusation was completely fair.

Harper shifted closer. Her shoulder brushed mine. Neither of us moved away. The distance disappeared naturally. Comfortably. Like it belonged.

“I should probably admit something.”

I looked at her. “What?”

She smiled nervously. A rare sight.

Harper was usually fearless. Seeing her nervous made my heart do strange things.

“I’ve been trying not to fall in love with you.”

My breath caught. For once I had absolutely nothing to say.

Harper laughed softly. “See?”

“See what?”

“You finally look shocked.”

I shook my head. “You love me.”

Her cheeks immediately turned pink. The reaction made me smile.

“A little.”

“A little?”

She groaned. “I knew you were going to be annoying about this.”

“A little?”

“A lot.”

The words settled directly into my chest. Warm. Real. Permanent.

I moved closer. “So my wife loves me.”

“My husband is very pleased with himself.”

“Extremely.”

Harper laughed. Then leaned her head against my shoulder. Comfortably. Naturally. Like she had done it a thousand times.

Maybe one day she would. The thought felt surprisingly right.

We stayed like that for a long time. Talking. Laughing. Simply enjoying each other.

No investigations. No family problems. No secrets.

Just us. Exactly what this vacation should have been from the beginning.

The next morning sunlight filled the villa.

For once I slept late. A miracle. A genuine miracle.

When I finally walked into the kitchen, I found Harper cooking breakfast. Or attempting to.

The distinction mattered. A lot.

Smoke filled part of the room. I immediately stopped walking.

“What happened?”

Harper pointed at the stove. “It attacked me.”

I stared. “The stove attacked you.”

“Yes.”

“The stove.”

“Yes.”

I nodded slowly. “Of course.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t believe me.”

“Not even slightly.”

Harper grabbed a towel. Then threw it at me. I caught it.

Apparently that was becoming a theme in our marriage. Throwing things.

Very romantic.

“I was trying to surprise you.”

I looked at the blackened pan. “I’m surprised.”

She laughed despite herself. Then eventually gave up.

Twenty minutes later we were eating breakfast at a beach café instead. A much safer option. For everyone involved.

The town was busy. Happy. Relaxed.

People wandered between shops and restaurants. Nobody recognized us. Nobody cared who we were.

It was wonderful.

Halfway through breakfast, Harper suddenly looked thoughtful. That expression always worried me. Always.

“What?”

She smiled. “I was thinking.”

“That’s usually dangerous.”

“It is.”

I sighed dramatically. She laughed.

Then reached across the table. Taking my hand.

The gesture felt so natural now. Like second nature. Like breathing. Like marriage.

“I don’t want this vacation to end.”

The honesty in her voice surprised me. Because I felt exactly the same.

I squeezed her hand gently. “Then we’ll come back.”

Harper smiled. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

The word left my mouth effortlessly. Because I meant it. Because somehow every future plan now included her.

The realization no longer scared me. It simply felt right. Perfectly right.

A few hours later we returned to the villa after spending the day exploring the island.

Harper looked happier than I had ever seen her. Relaxed. Peaceful. Free.

The sight alone was worth everything.

As we walked inside, something immediately caught my attention.

A large box sat in the center of the living room.

Both of us stopped. Confusion crossed Harper’s face.

“Did you order something?”

“No.”

Neither of us moved. The box was enormous. Wrapped beautifully. A white ribbon rested on top.

Attached to it was a small card.

Harper picked it up. Then froze.

My stomach tightened instantly.

“What is it?”

Slowly she looked up. The color had drained completely from her face.

And when she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

“It’s addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood.”