Page 80 of The Reality of Us
She tucked her face into his neck. Her breath made goosebumps prick along his skin. The only sound was Murphy’s panting breaths.
“There might be some … compromising photos,” she whispered, and Owen’s heart stopped. Those weren’t the words he’d been expecting. Visions of Alice in his bed filled his mind, her gorgeous body and how willingly she offered herself to him. He wasn’t an idiot. Everyone had a past. Owen had a past. But this … he was ashamed to admit how his baser instincts roared to life, almost drowning out any common sense.
Christ.
He focused on softening the edges of his words. “Might be?”
She took a deep breath, her voice thick with tears. “From when we were first together. It was a mistake.”
“It’ll be okay.” He held her tightly. “When you’re ready, can you tell me exactly what happened?” He wanted to spit the words out, douse the anger at Phoenix that was scorching through his veins but he focused on his breathing, reminded himself that problem-solving was his thing. They’d get an injunction. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect the woman he loved.
Owen blinked up at the ceiling.
Love.
He’d known it for a while now, but he’d managed to avoid labelling his feelings. But there was no denying it anymore. He loved Alice.
And based on the moisture running down his neck and how Alice’s shoulders were trembling, she didn’t need her lawyer right now, she needed her guy. And Owen was her guy. He stomped down the urge to ask more questions. What sort of pictures? Was her face visible? What other body parts? Was she on her own? Was there a video as well? Were there any copies?
“I’m not naked or anything, but my bra is kind of sheer, so I might as well have been …”
A wave of sadness smothered Owen’s anger. To have her trust broken so completely by someone who was supposed to love her.
“It’ll be okay. There are legal things we can do to stop him from releasing them. A reminder to him that revenge porn is a crime. I won’t let him hurt you.”
But shit, how could Owen promise that? After they got through the race, they’d have to figure out all these messes. She’d have to make a decision about her divorce.
“But won’t people know? Would there be a record of it?” There it was. Her ever-present worry about what people would think.
“Why don’t we go for a walk? Get some fresh air?” God knew he needed some. “We can figure out all the details once the race is finished. You’ve got until next Friday to respond.”
Alice wiped her eyes, and he kissed her forehead. “That sounds like a plan.”
In fact, he knew exactly how to distract her while also reinforcing that this didn’t change how he felt about her. “Do you want to come and see my new house? It’s almost finished. I’m just waiting on the certificate of occupancy to be granted.”
If Alice was going to be a part of his future—and he really hoped she was—then he’d better start sharing his plans with her. And maybe one day it’d be her house too?
Owen slipped his hands underneath the back of her fuzzy jumper, the warmth of her skin calming him down. Reminding him she wasn’t going anywhere yet but if this potential investor turned into something serious … or Phoenix released her photos … a flare of panic raced up his spine. “I promise we’ll figure it out. There’s nothing we can’t figure out together.”
Alice tipped her head back, some of the light back in her eyes. “Okay, Boy Scout. I trust you.”
28
Come do a charity race, they said.
It’ll be fun, they said.
You’ll raise money for people who need it, they said.
All of Alice’s muscles and bones and limbs and hell, every part of her body was mutinying against her. Thank God for Owen’s ass in his running shorts. Without it, she’d have flagged this whole thing hours ago.
Alice shrugged out of her running vest, coughing when she necked herself with the tube from her Camelbak.
“It’s not much, but it’s home for the night,” Owen said as she looked around their campsite. By some small miracle, they’d made it to the first crop of tent sites, the ones near the river and—she shuddered—the long drop toilets.
The sun was slipping towards the horizon, the shadows of night creeping in and chasing away the last fingers of stubborn daylight. Rafferty’s tent, an esky and some firewood were stacked next to a ring of stones. After being on her feet for over twelve hours scrambling over rocks, canoeing, working through a rock maze, running along fire trails, and hiking more hills than she realised were in the range, it looked like heaven.
Owen stowed their collection of page thirteens from the random books at each checkpoint in the front pocket of his vest. He tilted his head towards hers and pulled her closer. “You ready for an adventure?”
