Page 72 of Ardently Yours

“Yes.”

When she lowers the shotgun and collapses against her doorframe, I jog toward her, fog forming with every exhale. Charlotte unloads the gun, props it against the outer metal wall of her trailer, then digs the heel of her hand into her eye.

When I reach her, the look she gives me stabs at the bruised mess that remains of my heart.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say.

“I wasn’t scared. I was—” Her chin wobbles, then she admits, “Okay, I was afraid. I didn’t know if someone followed me, or if you were federal agents here to take me in, or who knows what.”

I frown. “Why would you havefederal agentsout here?”

She throws up her hands. “I don’t know. Maybe I thought you were the guys fromMen in Black. Alien abduction. How am I supposed to be thinking clearly? I was asleep for fifteen minutes, then I hear cars pull in, and there are big, hulking shadows of guys in my driveway—”

“No. You’re right. Anyone would be concerned,” I soothe, rubbing her back.

“Did something happen? Why did you come?” she asks.

I cup her face. “I’m here because I don’t know what you want from me, and I need to see your face when you say it.”

She takes a shuddering breath. “There are parts of my past I won’t share with you, and you have to be okay with it.”

I frown. I thought I knew everything in her history. “If you think some wild streak in your teens or smoking pot behind your parents’ barn is going to change the way I see you, you’re wrong. It’s who you are now that matters. You wouldn’t make those same choices again. Everyone has something they wish they’d done differently.”

Instead of relaxing, she tenses. “I couldn’t have done anything differently,” she grates, “and if you expect me to talk about it, this won’t work. I can’t dig it up. I won’t.”

Something was donetoher. “Charlotte, you have to know you can tell me anything.”

She shakes her head.

I want whoever put that look in her eyes on the stand and—No. I don’t want Charlotte forced to answer questions or to face her perpetrator and a sneering attorney who demands she tell himwhat she was wearing.

I want whoever hurt her wiped from existence.

It’s not noble to expect her to suffer for another person’s sins. “Is this what you’ve been afraid of? You think the press will uncover your secret?”

“I talked with Rochelle, and I don’t think so. She’s the only one who knows.” She rubs her forehead. “It should be okay. But I won’t share it with you, Arden. I don’t want any part of it in our lives. If you can’t accept that, tell me now.”

“Charlotte, I amyours. I’ll say it over and over, until you know it all the way down to your soul.I am yours.Nothing in your past, whether I know what it is or not, will ever change that.”

Her mouth parts on an indrawn breath. “How can you say that when we haven’t spent more than seventy-two hours together in person?”

“Do you want a list of everything I know about you?” I push her hair away from her face.

“Those things are from calls and emails. I don’t know if you get weird about the thermostat or if you sing in the shower. Maybe my puttering around with constant projects or the way I talk to myself or make faces when I’m reading will get annoying. I’m a frustrating person to watch movies with, Arden. I’m always whispering questions about what just happened. I can’t control it. And those aren’t even secrets. Wedon’t know what we don’t knowabout each other yet.”

“When I sing in the shower, it’s usually Bruce Springsteen. I also do a mean ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’ All the parts. It’s a big shower. The acoustics are great.”

She gives a watery laugh. “I want to be brushing my teeth on a Wednesday morning and casually hear you in the background belting out Queen.”

“It’s going to happen. You and I together. I spend every waking hour of my life homesick for you, then I dream we’re together and wake up missing you.I love you.There’s nothing that can change how I feel,” I say.

A sob rips out of her chest, and she buries her face against me, sliding her arms around my back under my unbuttoned overcoat. “I love you. I’m sorry I’ve made things so hard. I’m sorry—”

“Shhh. Don’t apologize.” I hold her against me, one hand splayed across her back, the other cradling her head.

She makes an incoherent sound, and I force myself to speak through the gravel in my throat. “I’ll keep you and Bronnie safe. I’ll make it work for us. I’m not asking for an irreversible commitment. I know you can’t do that without all the facts, butyou can experience a little of the good and the bad of what it would be like to be with me. We can spend time together first without the press finding out. You, me, and eventually the kids, so you can decide if a life with me is worth the cost. We’ll take it slowly. A little at a time.”

She lifts her head and looks up into my eyes.

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