Page 87 of Secondhand Secrets

A laugh broke through her at his joke. “I hadn’t thought of it like that, but I get your point.”

“Good.” His smile inched higher. “Can you hurry up now and get the rest of it too? So we can get to where we’re supposed to be. Together.”

“I…” Her voice cracked, and she pursed her lips, unable to truthfully say she did believe all those nice things he’d said about her.

“Why can’t you see?” He let out an exasperated sigh and turned away, face lifting to the sky in a way that only made her feel more clueless. “Fuck it, Ally, you might not want to hear it, but I love you. Every time you say that stuff about yourself—even when you just think it—you hurt yourself. You hurt the woman I love. The woman I chose. And so, you hurt me too.”

Chip wasn’t a swearing sorta guy, and her lips pressed tighter, repressing the wild storm of emotions swirling within her and threatening to break out. And the bit about him loving her… about choosing her. She’d known all that but hearing it… hearing it was another experience altogether. As was the prospect of turning him down after all he’d just said.

He spun back around, the stern creases over his forehead indicating she was the only one his words surprised. “If you won’t speak, then at least think on this question. Do I make bad choices?”

Though tears welled in her eyes, she still shook her head.

And he chose me!

He marched over and cupped her cheeks, the tender act adding to the sting in her eyes. “I know you don’t believe me yet, but we don’t have to be the same to make this work. Your fresh perspective makes you an asset, not a liability, and I don’t intend to do all the thinking for us. I want the arguments and clashes of opinions. I want a partner. Ally, I want you.”

Unsure how he’d wrangled control over this conversation, a small chuckle broke from her, and her first tears tumbled free. But once again, he was right.

He didn’t generally make bad choices. And even if she couldn’t believe his glowing views on her, to her, he was perfect. In every way possible.

So as much as she sought to again think he was more than she deserved, his words about not even thinking self-critical things rose to stop her.

He’s changing me already.

While she could maybe lay off herself, accepting him back into her life meant accepting that this all could fail spectacularly. It meant accepting the chance of yet another heartbreak.

“But you’ll grow to hate me.” The words rasped through her throat, designed as a deflection that now inadvertently exposed another painful belief.

He gave an easy shrug and touched his forehead to hers. “And maybe you’ll hate me. I’m still willing to find out.”

His gaze held for a weighty beat, lips curling higher until sheer laughter rippled between them. A new hush took over, and he stroked her cheek, vying for her full attention. “Ally, I’m all in. How about you?”

More tears fell, and she blinked them away to give him a quick nod.

He chose me.

Time I chose him too.

Her heart felt suddenly lighter, and not a single moment had passed when she hadn’t wanted him. Not in the weeks apart, especially not now he stood before her—in Harlow—his refusal to leave an admittedly compelling reason to at least give this love a chance.

His lips collided over hers, stealing her ability to form another thought, save to absorb the sweet support of being pressed to him, his hands cradling her head while he dominated this kiss.

But she clung to him, too, the space beneath her chest feeling fuller than ever, even as new and happy laughter pushed for release.

The need for air eventually pulled them apart, and his gaze held joyful and bright, his lips parting as though he sought to speak. She knew what he had to say, and frankly, she wanted her turn to talk. So, she clapped her hand over his mouth and chuckled. “I love you, too, Chip Overton.”

She dropped her hand to find his lips pushed into a broad grin. Though he drew in to snare her with another kiss, a loud cheer broke from the flour mill’s direction. Thinking those cheers were meant for Blaine and Emilia, that something particularly fun had happened at their wedding, she glanced over to find the attention of about two hundred wedding guests turned to her.

Instant shock jolted her out of Chip’s hold. He turned to the wedding party, his quick laughter feeding her own, as more cheers and whoops broke loose at the crowd’s delight at being caught watching.

He grabbed her hand, and though her cheeks burned, she ran with the spirit of unfettered elation—bowing to her captive audience and instinctively knowing Chip would join her.

And he did. Of course, he did.

Only to swing her back to him for one last kiss.

Epilogue

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