Runaway Bride and Prejudice (Appies, #5)

by Emma St. Clair

As for how I know Amelia … it’s a simple story. We met randomly. Talked. Thought she might be my soulmate.

As opposed to me—a tattooed hockey player with a reputation.

Nothing to see here, I tell myself. Nothing to think about. Nope. Nothing at all. Block it from memory.

I guess so long as Amelia doesn’t think that’s why, it doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t want her to assume I’m here because of her dad.

“Obviously, I’ll expect you to stay in your own room, and if I hear so much as a rumor of you touching⁠—” “No touching. My own room.”

pure, unadulterated adoration.

I can hardly believe I let things get to that point. It wasn’t my intention.

“What if my only plans for this trip are to hang out with you every moment of every day?”

“Let’s go pack up your things. I think by the time we get back down here, our room situation will be straightened out.”

The bedroom has its own seating area, and the bathroom is the size of my bedroom at home. I think the walk-in shower is the size of my whole bathroom.

But I couldn’t help but feel a tiny pinch of regret that it means now there will be a whole room and a closed door between Van and me.

there’s no way I’m telling her I just got the wind knocked out of me while imagining her as my actual wife and the mother of my children.

There was an urgency on that beach—the sense that Van was that person, and I really didn’t want another second to go by without making it official.

“Thank you for helping her fly.”