Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)(19)

“Is that what you’re scared of—a divorce?”

“No, I’m scared that if we get married things will change. Then we will get a divorce, and then I’ll lose you forever. At least the way things are now, I know you’ll always come back.”

“Manda, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We can make crazy little redheaded baby girls who are sure to land me in jail for killing their high school boyfriends. I want to grow old and wrinkly with you.”

“I’ll never get wrinkly,” she interjects, but I just keep talking.

“I know we fight, but it’s always about stupid shit. We are two stubborn people. We’re always going to argue. But this, right here, is what I don’t want anymore. I don’t want you to disappear for a few days every time we disagree about something. I want you to get pissed and march your hot little ass back to our bedroom and pout for however long you would like.”

She starts laughing and pinches my stomach.

“Manda…” I pull away and place a kiss to her lips. “I’ll apologize with sushi and wine every night for the rest of my life if that is what it takes. I just want to be with you, fighting and all.”

“You want to move in together, too?”

“I’ve heard most married couples live together, but I could be wrong. I’ve never really done this before,” I say playfully.

“No, jerk. I mean like…you want to live together now?”

“Say the word and I’ll start packing your bags tonight.” I squeeze her tighter, and she quickly melts into my body.

“I love you,” she mumbles into my chest.

“I love you too.” I release a content sigh. “Was that the word?” I ask while resting my chin on the top of her head.

“No,” she replies, causing me to let out an impatient growl. She laughs for only a second before looking up into my eyes. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I ask in shock.

“Yeah. That was the word,” she says, causing me to burst out laughing. I can’t even begin to contain my excitement. “Can I see that ring again?” She steps out of my grasp with a huge smile on her face.

“No, sorry.”

“What? Why not?” she shrieks.

“See, my fiancée was pretty pissed off when I showed up with a ring instead of wine, so I need to head out and exchange it. You know, got to keep the old ball and chain happy.” I shrug then turn to head for the door.

“Caleb, give me my ring!” She jumps on my back before I get even a few steps away.

We wrestle around for a few minutes before I pin her to the ground. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the emerald-cut diamond ring and slide it onto her tiny finger. It’s so big she probably could fit two fingers inside of it—but she doesn’t take it off.



That one night was the happiest moment of my life. Manda and I never got married. Don’t get me wrong. I tried. She moved in with me the following week, but she would never set a date for the wedding. We fought almost weekly about it, including on the way to the restaurant the night she died.

When Manda died, she didn’t just leave me alone. She left me to grieve. Amanda Baker. Fucking Baker. I’ve never hated that name more. Her headstone should read Jones. She was mine, and the entire world should know it.





AFTER A long six a.m. flight from Savannah, I finally arrive in cold-ass Chicago. I’m sure the city is beautiful, but when I left, it was seventy-four degrees. It’s the middle of March, and the snow flurries are still floating through the air in my new city. I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into by moving up here. I’m just glad I at least have something—or more specifically, someone—to look forward to.

While riding the escalator down to baggage claim, I’m trying to keep my excitement at bay when I catch sight of the gorgeous wide shoulders waiting at the bottom. I wouldn’t be able to tear my eyes away even if he weren’t waiting for me. His jeans ride low and his dark green button-up clings to his body. Shit, is this the way guys feel when checking out girls? Because I’m not just staring right now—I am straight-up ogling him. As I step off the escalator, dragging my large suitcase behind, he flashes me a bright smile. I give myself away as I jog over to meet him.

I’m not exactly positive how you greet someone you have met once but have been talking to every single night for weeks. I’m usually all about the hug, but I can’t figure out what to do with Caleb. If you ask me what I want to do? I would throw him down, right here and now, on the cold airport floor. I’d lick every inch of his defined body, but I’m classier than that—at least in public.

Instead, I stop just in front of him and say, “Hey, you.” It’s kind of my go-to phrase at this point. I shove my hands in my jacket pockets to keep from touching him.

“Hey, Emmy.” He smiles a breathtaking grin before pulling me against his hard body. I guess Caleb is a hugger, too. I go all too willingly into his arms, and he squeezes me tight before releasing me.

“You have more bags?”

“No, just this. The guys are driving up the rest of my stuff in a few weeks.”

“The guys?” He lifts a questioning eyebrow.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his jealousy. “Oh hush.” I gently slap his chest but immediately wish I hadn’t. I have to turn and look away to keep from moaning when my hand meets his firm pec. Oh shit. Caleb is even hotter than I remember.