Page 121 of Owen

When he’s finished, ignoring the ache in my shoulder when I move, I reach up and brush the scruff of his beard. “I don’t blame you, Owen. For any of it. You’ve been through so much. I am so sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”

“I should be the one telling you that. You are made from titanium. You’re bulletproof.”

“I’m unbreakable.”

The love he has for me makes me feel indestructible.

“We’re unbreakable,” he says with confidence. His eyes soften around the edges as his shoulders sag with relief. “I think Richard must have hired someone to tamper with your jet and personal locator beacon,” he whispers. “I will never forgive myself for getting you involved in the mess.”

“There will be an investigation,” I reassure him. “They will find whoever did this to me, but it could also have very well been an accident, Owen.” But if someone is responsible, and they find out who, then there will be a prison sentence awaiting them. “None of this is your fault,” I say again, hoping he hears me this time. “When are we getting married?”

Owen laughs as I inject my lighthearted question amongst the madness.

Leaning closer, Owen kisses me gently on my lips. “As soon as you are well.”

“I love you, Owen. I don’t want to wait.” Then I see his knuckles. “What did you do?”

“I had a fight with a stone floor.”

“Shame it wasn’t Richard’s face.” I make him chuckle.

“That might still happen.”

A bright voice chimes from the doorway. “Isn’t this wonderful? She’s awake.” Owen moves to the side and a vibrant, smiling doctor, dressed in bubblegum-pink scrubs, moves cheerily into the room and then picks up my chart. “Now, let’s check you over.”

After what feels like hours, Dr. Griffiths, who insists I call her Bethan, is satisfied with my vitals, and she finally says, “If you remain stable for the next day or so, then you will be discharged. I am referring you to the physio to help strengthen your back muscles and, apart from the bruising, it will be like it never happened.”

According to my brain, it didn’t.

“You can return to active flying duties once you pass your Air Force back-to-work medical.” I don’t want to think about getting back in a plane. My body feels battered. “But you will most likely be off work for months with your concussion.” The doctor lays her hand on my shoulder. “You were very lucky. Someone was watching over you, Ms. Sommers.” Her warm eyes make my body relax.

I am very lucky.

She gives my hand a gentle pat, and just as she’s leaving the room, Bethan turns and adds, “And you’ll be happy to hear that the baby is just fine. You have a lucky baby, too.”

Owen makes a noise I’ve never heard before and I fix my gaze on him, worried I’ve missed something important. My brain is still on its own time frame, so I may have.

He takes my hand in his. “You’re pregnant, Hotshot.” Hisvoice is so soft and low that I have to ask him to repeat what he said.

“We are having a baby.” His grin is wider than a mile.

“How did this happen?” I ask in a daze.

My mom, who is sitting on the far side of the room, Bethan, who is still standing in the doorway, and Owen burst out laughing at my shock.

“Well, when a man…” the doctor begins to explain.

I wave my hand at her to stop. “I know that. I mean, I had a contraceptive shot before I went to Cyprus.”

“It’s not always 100 percent effective and extra contraception is recommended for the first seven days.”

“Right,” I reply as I try calculating. “So, I’m about twelve weeks?” I might cry, I’m so happy.

“We made our little bean in Cyprus,” Owen says with a wink.

I reach out to grab his hand and with the other, I lay it over my stomach. “A miracle from the Greek goddess, Aphrodite,” I whisper, then I’m worried, and I ask two questions in quick succession. “And everything is okay? Are you sure?”

Owen squeezes my hand, leans down, kisses me on the lips and says, “You had a scan and everything is perfect, Hotshot.”

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