Silbie plopped into the seat next to Maia, took one last look at her phone and turned it off. She'd joked about rumors of a marriage coming from Logan going with her to church. She'd even worn a bright red dress to dispel any idea of a wedding. No such luck.

Within an hour, her phone had blown up with Twitter and Instagram tags congratulating her on their nuptials. She gritted her teeth. Why couldn't people mind their own damn business?

Then there was the tension of Maia and Dante being in the same room. Although they sat as far from one another as possible, the hot glare Maia shot his way was enough to start a fire. At least Bea didn't attend, and as soon as the christening service ended, Dante fled like a thief. Didn't even give Silbie time to ask what was being done to bring Owen home.

As great as her career was, Silbie's personal life was starting to shamble. The undeniable tension between Mom and her spoke volumes about where their relationship was headed. And it wasn't a good place. She needed to forgive her, and in time, she would.

The fasten your seatbelt sign dinged on. Silbie shifted in her seat and buckled up. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and thought about Owen. As wonderful as the fame was, she'd give it all up for him to be back home, in her arms. Every idle moment he filled her head and now that she knew he was missing, fear knotted in the pit of her stomach.

The jet engines roared, and the plane moved forward. Maia gripped the armrests and stiffened. "I hate taking off."

"Yeah, me, too," Silbie said. "I'm so glad you changed your mind."

"Yeah, well, after seeing Dante, I decided I didn't want to risk running into him and his new bride in Parkers Prairie. Besides, not even twenty-four hours on the job and I'm sitting in first class for an all-inclusive trip to a foreign country. I've hardly been out of Texas."

Logan leaned across the aisle, where he sat next to director Sam Spelchek. "You might not be so excited once you experience the weather. We're shooting quite a few mountain scenes."

"Yeah, I have hopes for plenty of snow in that region," Sam said.

Maia widened her eyes and sat straighter. "That'll be exciting. We don't get much of the white stuff."

Logan snickered. "Silbie won't mind since she'll have her new husband to keep her warm."

She faced him and scowled. "Why aren't you upset by all the lies they print about us?"

"Sticks and stones, See-bee. Sticks and stones. The people who matter most in our lives know the truth. The key is to stop reading that garbage. Leave that to Jolene and Maia. If they see something that needs your attention, they'll tell you."

"I guess you're right."

He cupped his ear. "Say again."

"Don't push it—Dear."

"See, we're already settling into married life. You're giving orders, and I'm smart enough to know when to shut up."

"Kidding aside, you should hate pretending. I mean, I have a boyfriend so I don't want to date anyone, but you're a free agent. What happens when you meet a girl you're interested in, and she thinks you're married?"

He wiggled his brows. "I guess I'll just have to cheat."

"Oh, brother. I can already tell there'll be trouble in paradise." Silbie faced forward again, leaned back and closed her eyes.

Owen ran a hand across the cot, but instead of a gritty mattress, it felt smooth to his touch. He'd hold on to the dream as long as he could because it'd been the best sleep he'd had in weeks. Even his leg didn't hurt. And the air, so fresh, he inhaled a deep breath. Yeah, best dream ever. Except the ones of Silbie. If he tried, he could bring her into this one. Feel her naked body slide across clean sheets. Wrap her legs around him. Welcome him deep inside her.

"Sergeant Filgard?"

Who was this guy, and what is he doing in my fantasy?

"Sergeant Filgard. Open your eyes."

Get the hell away from me. I'm about to make love to my woman.

He gave Owen's shoulder a firm shake. This interloper wasn't giving up.

Owen blinked, squinted against the bright light, and finally brought a silhouette into focus. The shadow moved, and was replaced by bright lights. Something nearby beeped with a slow, steady rhythm. "Who are you?" He tried to lift his head, but something pinched his neck.

"Where am I? What have you done to me?" He tried to slap at the catheter in his neck, but the man clasped his hand.

"I'm Dr. Massee, and you're at Walter Reed Military Medical Center. We have a central line inserted in your jugular."

Owen blinked the guy into focus. "What's wrong with me?"

"You suffered a broken leg and it wasn't set properly and some bad wounds on your back. Then there's the bacterial pneumonia in both lungs. We're currently treating you with antibiotics, and as soon as we get the infection under control, we'll do surgery on your leg."

"How long have I been here?"

"Four days—and it'll probably be at least seven more before we can schedule the operation. Do you have any questions?"

"When can I brush my teeth? My mouth tastes like a skunk's ass."

The doctor laughed. "The nurse gave your teeth a quick once over, but I'll have her bring you all the supplies and let you have a go at 'em. They're actually in pretty good shape considering."

"Yeah, well, I pulled straw from the walls of my hut and used them as a makeshift toothbrush. Where's my family?"

"Your family has been notified." Dr. Massee patted Owen's shoulder. "I'll check on you again tomorrow."

"Oh, Doc. One more thing. What about the other guy who got rescued with me? Sam Fields."

"I heard he was transported to Northwestern Memorial in Chicago."

Owen drew his brows together. "The Army flew him? He wasn't military."

"Army didn't do the recovery. It was a privately funded mission."

The words landed in Owen's head with a thud. He didn't remember much, but he did recall soldiers, a chopper, and an airplane. Who had those resources? Nobody he knew. At least, now that explained why other branches of the military were involved.

The doctor had only been gone a few minutes when a teenage girl showed up pushing a cart. "Good afternoon, sir. I see your diet is restricted, but if you'd like something to read..." She held up a stack of magazines. "I have Sports Illustrated. Fish and Tackle. Men's Health. Or, if you want to get caught up on the latest Hollywood gossip, I have US Weekly."

At the sight of the cover, Owen gasped. "Wait! Let me see that."

She passed the magazine to him and babbled. "I just love Silbie Luna and Logan Foster. They fell in love while filming their action movie, which is about to be released. I can't wait."

Owen stared at the headline. "Hottest Couple in Hollywood Secretly Marries."

Short chapter, I know.

How do you think Owen is going to react to this?

TEASER: "I swore I wasn't going to cry, but I'm just so glad to see you."

Stay gold, pony boy.