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“This is the best pizza ever. Not the best meal ever, because that was an hour ago. But definitely the best pizza.”

Sloane leaned against the headboard, smiling at Callum’s words as they dug into the pie that had been delivered a few minutes ago. She took another bite, relishing the melted cheese and savory sauce as much as she was enjoying her post-orgasm glow. She’d been so right to follow Dr. Annie’s advice. But now, she wanted to talk about something more serious.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a job at the Eagle’s Nest, as a waitress. I need to start supporting myself and getting back on my feet.”

She didn’t know what sort of response to expect from him. Maybe he would think it was stupid.

But he nodded, his brown eyes warm as he looked at her. “I think that’s a great idea. You’d be fantastic at waitressing. Will probably make a ton of tips.”

She hesitated, her heart fluttering nervously. Despite the intimate moments they had just shared, she knew there were no guarantees between them. “Is it…okay if I stay here in Oak Creek for a while? While I get myself situated?”

“Of course,” Callum said without hesitation, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Regardless of what happens with us—and if the last hour is any indication, I think what happens with us will be very good things—I absolutely want you to make your start here. Oak Creek would be lucky to have you.”

She hoped he still felt that way once he found out about the baby, but for right now, relief and gratitude washed through her. Tomorrow, she would go see Hudson about the waitressing job. This was the first step to building her independence and a life for herself.

“Thank you, Callum. For everything.” She hoped he could hear the sincerity in her voice.

“You can stay here with me as long as you need to,” he offered. “I like having you here.” A mischievous grin tugged at his mouth. “Even if you almost burned down my kitchen making dinner.”

She poked him in the side. “Yeah, go ahead and laugh. I’ll put charred chicken on your pizza and make you eat it.”

As their chuckles subsided, a comfortable silence fell between them. She knew this would be the perfect opportunity to tell him about the pregnancy.

But gazing into his handsome face, the lines around his eyes crinkling with his smile, Sloane couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not now, when everything felt so natural and easy between them for the first time. She wanted to hold on to this blissful, uncomplicated moment for just a little longer. The truth could wait a bit more.

Pushing aside the twinge of guilt, she reached for another slice of pizza. She would savor this sense of normalcy between her and Callum as long as it lasted.

“Did you ever receive that art history book I sent you?” he asked a couple minutes later, his voice casual but his eyes studying her intently.

Sloane’s breath caught in her throat. She lowered the pizza slice back into the box, appetite evaporating.

“No. I never got it.”

“Oh. The receipt said it was delivered about three weeks after we got home from Moldova.”

“It was. My family destroyed it. They never even let me look at it.” The words felt bitter on her tongue. “Actually, finding out about what they did to that book was one of the reasons I left. I couldn’t stay there anymore.”

He set his pizza down too. “I don’t understand. Why would they destroy the book? Was it because it was from me?”

“Honestly, I don’t think they knew it was from you.” They definitely would’ve mentioned Callum if they’d known the book was from him. “I think they thought it meant I was planning to go to college.”

“And what was so wrong with that?”

They were never going to allow it. Not while she was under their thumb and subject to their bidding.

And then they’d also used the book to convince the psychiatrist she was having a breakdown. That the art history textbook was some sort of delusion of grandeur. That she’d been raped and traumatized during her captivity and that the book signified she wasn’t handling it the way she should: by having an immediate abortion.

And then the mifepristone pills had started showing up. William and Clarice were adamant that her pregnancy be terminated. Sloane wasn’t sure they wouldn’t force her to take them.

That was when she’d gone out the window and ran.

“They were never going to let me go to college,” she whispered. “I had to leave.”

Callum’s brow furrowed, concern etching into his features. “There were other things too, weren’t there? Stuff you’re not telling me.”

Staring down at her hands, Sloane wrestled with the urge to tell him everything. To pour out the whole awful story and finally unburden herself.

Callum had already shown her more kindness and understanding than anyone else in her life. Maybe he would listen without judgment. Understand that when she’d done the criminal things she had, it was because she hadn’t known what she was doing.

Surely that was forgivable, right? Not understanding that you were breaking the law?

Because, yes, there was a lot of stuff she wasn’t telling him about her life with the Gettys.

All she’d known for sure was that when she’d found out she was pregnant, she knew she couldn’t stay there anymore. She was not going to let her child be raised anywhere near the Gettys.

And that was really why she was here, wasn’t it?

She’d loved the picture Callum painted of Oak Creek and, even more, wanted to have a true relationship with him. But the real reason she was here was because she knew he would protect his child. He would not allow the Gettys to force her to have an abortion. And if they made good on their threats and had her sent to jail for what she’d done when she was younger, Callum would keep the baby and make sure it was okay.

Callum might hate Sloane when it was all said and done, but he would protect his own child.

“Hey.” He ran a hand down the back of her head. “It’s okay to tell me. Whatever it is, we can work it out together.”

She opened her mouth to spill it all, but the words wouldn’t come. Some sort of deeper instinct held her back.

For once, they had no dire threats hanging over them. No one was chasing her. Her family couldn’t hurt her here. Right now, in this room with Callum, she had a chance to experience something precious and untainted.

Sloane knew it was temporary. Eventually, the truth would catch up with her. But until then, she desperately wanted to wrap herself in this cocoon of normalcy and warmth. To feel, even just for a little while, like an ordinary woman enjoying time with a very special man.

One who had bought her flowers.

Meeting his patient gaze, she managed a tiny shrug. “Someday I’ll be ready to talk about it. I promise. But not tonight. Is that okay?”

His expression softened with understanding. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

Gratitude swelled in Sloane’s chest. Once again, Callum was showing her that he wouldn’t push for more than she was willing to give. He would let her reveal herself at her own pace. The realization made her feel cherished. Safe.

“But I do have one request.” He got out of the bed and walked gloriously naked across the room.

“As long as I can wait until tomorrow morning to clean the kitchen.”

He laughed and continued out of the bedroom. He came back a few seconds later, a book in hand.

“The kitchen can definitely wait until we get to it tomorrow. Tonight…we read.” He held up a copy of the same art history textbook. “I got myself one too.”

Resettling next to her in bed and opening the book across their laps, Callum began flipping through the glossy pages. Bright paintings and sculptures flashed by. Sloane leaned closer, the heat of his body seeping into her side.

The simple domesticity of the moment made her ache with yearning. Was this what a real relationship could be like? Quiet moments and easy companionship?

As he paused on a favorite impressionist piece, Sloane let her gaze linger half on the lilies blooming on the page, and half on Callum’s strong, tanned fingers gently tracing the edge of the paper.

For now, she would let herself drink in this tranquil moment. Memorizing every detail, Sloane told herself that even if it couldn’t last forever, having this experience at all was a gift. One she would treasure.