Page 45 of One Forbidden Moment

"But you're not alone.I'm here with you."

"It's—" He shook his head, unable to finish."I lost everything.Twenty-nine years I lost.I didn't even know."

She reached him then, sliding her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest.He froze for a moment, then his hands came up, gripping her back like she was the only solid thing left in the world.

"The only people who have to know," she murmured, "are us.It doesn't change anything."

He closed his eyes, breathing her in, trying to steady himself.He hated to admit that he needed her.Her warmth, her scent, the way she held him, kept him from losing his mind.

She pulled back enough to look up at him."Whatever Everstill did to you, it stopped your aging.You didn't lose those years.Just like I didn't lose time with my mom, it was like I wasn't even there.You didn't feel them, either.But you're still you."

He swallowed hard, his throat tight."But this world thinks I'm sixty-three."

"Then it's wrong," she said simply.

How the fuck was he an old man now?He didn't feel that old.

"You thought the police were after you for the crime you committed all those years ago, but that would've been impossible.Even if they were looking for Moe Clemens, they would be looking for someone who looks like he's in his sixties, which you do not."She ran her hands down the sides of his face, straightening his beard.All you have to do is go by a different name, change your hair, maybe trim your beard, and you wouldn't even look like the man you were all those years ago.You can be free."

As much as he wanted to believe her.He was more concerned about what Everstill had done to him.He'd lost twenty-nine years.

Chapter 18

Jillian

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By the time the lastload of laundry finished tumbling in the dryer, the sun had warmed up the house.Light from outside spilled across the kitchen floor as Jillian folded shirts into neat stacks, her mind drifting back to the way Moe still held her hand when they slept as if he was afraid of losing her if he closed his eyes.

She shook herself gently and carried the folded clothes down the hall, placing them in the dresser where they belonged.When she stepped into the garage, she found Moe crouched beside the motorcycle, jaw tight, hands braced on his knees.

The bike didn't look any different than it had yesterday, but Moe's expression did.

"It still won't start?"she asked softly.

He shook his head."Battery's dead."