Savannah

"Oh my God..." My breath caught in my throat, and I stumbled back a step. "Oh my actual God. No way. No freaking way."

The car sat gleaming in the driveway like a piece of the sun had decided to park itself on Hart property. Sleek. Powerful. The yellow paint wasn't just paint—it shimmered like liquid gold, catching every ounce of morning light. My chest squeezed so tight I almost forgot how to breathe.

Roman leaned casually against the hood, arms folded, his smirk sharp and knowing. "I take it you like it?"

"Like it?" My voice cracked. I slapped a hand over my mouth. "Roman... no. You didn't just do this."

"I did." He shrugged as if he hadn't just casually dropped a nuclear bomb on my life.

"Of course I love it! You bought me—" My words broke off as I spun around, gripping my hair with both hands. "You bought me a freaking Aston Martin Vantage!"

He lifted a brow. "In yellow. Your favorite color."

Tears pricked my eyes. "I was half-joking last night, Roman! I—" My laugh came out strangled. I darted forward and pressed my palms flat to the hood. Warm. Solid. Real. I almost screamed when I saw the detail.

"You—" I choked, pointing at the tires. "You even put my name on it!"

The letters were etched in, bold against the black rubber. Savannah.

I opened the door, and my breath hitched again. It wasn't only on the tires. It was embroidered into the headrests and etched into the dashboard.

I let out a shout of pure joy that probably startled the neighbors, then spun back toward him. I jumped into his arms, wrapping myself around him. "You're unbelievable!"

"Careful," he murmured, gripping me tighter, his large hands supporting my weight as he braced my back. "Don't hurt yourself in the excitement."

"As if I care!" I buried my face in his neck, laughing and crying at the same time. "You actually did it, you crazy man."

He shifted, pressing me against the side of the car, my legs still hooked around his waist. My laughter tangled with the frantic pounding of my heartbeat when his gaze dropped to my mouth.

"Roman..."

He didn't give me a chance to finish. His mouth claimed mine, and my gasp disappeared into him. There was a sudden rush of heat and hunger. He kissed me with a depth that felt like a claim, like he was reminding me that while the car was mine, I was his.

The key fob slipped from my hand and hit the ground with a clatter, forgotten as his hands closed around my waist, dragging me tighter against his solid frame. The hard line of his body pressed into mine, and a soft sound escaped me before I could stop it.

Roman set me down on the hood with a firm thud. The heat of the metal seeped through my clothes, grounding me while everything else spun. His weight pressed forward, caging me in, his presence overwhelming.

I pulled him closer, the kiss growing more urgent. His hands trailed fire along my skin, moving under the hem of my top.

"God," he growled against my throat, his voice like smoke and sin. "You're dangerous, Savannah."

My head fell back, my nails sinking into his shoulders as his touch became more possessive. Every brush of his fingers sent a jolt through my system. He chuckled darkly, his eyes burning with an intensity that made my breath stall.

"That's it," he murmured. "That's how I want you to drive it. With that same fire."

A strangled moan escaped me. The world tilted until all I knew was his heat and the electric tension between us.

Until—

"Oh my God! Is that what I think it is?!"

I jolted as if electrocuted, shoving Roman back so fast I almost slid off the hood. Lizzie's scream carried across the driveway as she ran out barefoot, hair a wild mess.

"Savannah!" she screeched. "Is this yours?!"

I scrambled off the hood, quickly adjusting my tank top and trying to ignore the flush on my face. Roman just leaned back casually against the car, looking entirely unbothered.

"Lizzie!" I squeaked, folding my arms.

She didn't even glance at us; her entire soul was consumed by the machine. She circled it reverently. "No way. Roman, are you serious? You got her this?!"

"It's mine," I said, my grin splitting wide despite my embarrassment.

Lizzie gasped, clutching her chest. "Sav, I swear, if you don't marry him, I will. Can I have him? Just for a week?"

I laughed breathlessly, leaning into Roman for support. "Sorry, Liz. I don't share. Especially not him."

Roman's hand settled on my hip, his thumb stroking lazily, a silent reminder of the tension he’d just ignited.

Lizzie started snapping pictures frantically. "This is unreal. I love you guys. I think I’m going to pass out."

Before I could answer, another voice sliced through the air. "What's with all the noise?! And whose car is that?!"

We all turned. Chloe stood in the doorway, her face already thunderous.

"It's mine," I said smoothly, hooking my arm through Roman's. "A gift."

Her expression twisted. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Trying to overshadow me on my own wedding week?" Her voice rose, shrill and cutting. "Dean hasn't answered his calls since last night, and you're out here flaunting this? Where is he, Savannah?!"

Her yell drew the rest of the family out. My father's eyes lit up at the sight of the Vantage. He immediately started talking to Roman about engines, laughing that Roman was spoiling me far too much.

Everyone flocked to the car. Even Emily was whispering in awe. But Chloe's fury kept her rooted, glaring at me.

Suddenly, last night's revelation slammed into me. The baby. The truth.

I stepped forward, grabbed Chloe by the elbow, and dragged her toward the garden, away from the others.

"Let go, you freak!" she hissed. "Are you trying to bruise me before the wedding?"

"Who's the father of your baby, Chloe?" I asked flatly.

She froze. Then she let out a bitter, sharp laugh. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Cut the act. You know exactly what I'm asking."

Her mask cracked for a split second before she shoved me. I stumbled back against a garden bench.

"How dare you? Accusing me of cheating? Saying my baby isn't Dean's?" She pointed a trembling finger at me. "You've gone too far, Savannah. Dad will hear about this."

She turned to leave, but my next words stopped her cold.

"Go ahead. Tell Dad." My voice was razor sharp. "And I'll tell Mom that Dean had a vasectomy. That he can't be the father of your child."

Her entire body went rigid. Slowly, she turned back, her eyes wide and wild with a mix of shock and fear.

"What are you talking about? Dean never said anything like that to me."

I laughed, sharp and humorless. "Of course he didn't. How could he admit the truth? That he didn't want to risk passing on his condition to a child?"

Her face drained of color. "What do you mean... Dean is sick?"