“It was bound to be difficult,” he said. “Tell me why?”
She would have preferred to flay herself open—emotionally speaking—in the safety and privacy of their own home, but she knew this couldn’t wait until they got back to Boston. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her scalp eased, and she was able to pick up her cup with loose fingers instead of crushing it and splashing coffee everywhere.
“Grant’s special to me,” she began, and Kell’s nod encouraged her to continue. “I didn’t know how much when I first came down here. I thought it was just nostalgia, old connections, you know.” She picked at a tiny crack in her plastic lid, but kept half her attention on Kell, braced for a negative reaction. “But he’s grown into a man I can respect and trust.” She swallowed any references to attraction and love. She could have loved Grant if she didn’t love Kell so much, but saying so seemed to take honesty a little too far.
“He’s a good guy,” Kell agreed. He pulled the heat sleeve off his empty cup and rolled it into a tight cylinder. “More than anything, I want you to be happy.”
Tears sprang to her eyes and she reached across the table to put her hand on his forearm. His rope-tight forearm. She’d better move on to the other stuff before she broke him.
“Grant can’t make me happy, Kell.”
His head came up, his blue eyes blazing. “He could.”
She shook her head. “No, he can’t, because he’s not you.” She cleared her throat and found it even harder to look at him now that she was talking about him instead of Grant. “When I found out about this whole thing”—she waved a hand to encompass, well, everything—“I didn’t want it to taint you. I didn’t—” She had to take another deep breath. God, this was hard. “I didn’t think you could handle the sordidness. I was so, so wrong. You’re so much stronger than I gave you credit for.” His arm settled a little, became slightly less tight. He let go of the curl of cardboard and rested his hand rest. Something inside Zoe loosened, too, allowing a little bit of confidence to join hope.
“More importantly,” she said, “I’m stronger than I believed.” His smile allowed her to offer one. “That was what really held me back before. I didn’t tell you about Pat and Freddie and all of that because I was too scared of what it would make me, how it would undo me, if I let any of it into the life I’d built.”
Kell cleared his throat and sat forward on his chair, putting himself a little closer to her. “When you left, and I started to get an inkling why, it hurt that you didn’t want my help. That you were protecting me—protecting my family—was an insult.”
“I know. But I wouldn’t change it, Kell. I have to be honest about that.” Her confidence waned. “I could only see things a certain way, and I couldn’t let something happen to you because of my past. My secrets. I understand that you might not be able to see it that way, that you can only see the danger I might have caused your sister and the rest—”
“You didn’t.” He wrapped his hands hard around hers, as if stilling their motion would shut her up. “I was being unfair. You absolutely should have told me everything. But you didn’t leave her vulnerable, and you never put her in danger. Pat did. It was always him. You get that?”
She nodded, because she really did. “So…”
“I don’t ever want it to happen again.”
She laughed, a gurgle of tangled emotion. “That sounds like we have a future.”
He eased his grip and threaded their fingers. “We’d better.”
“I did a lot to you. Even after I told you everything. The airport—”
“I’ve never been so furious in my entire life.” He shook his head. “It will be our most famous grandparents story. ‘The time Grandma fooled Grandpa.’ ” His brow wrinkled. “I guess we should talk about kids and stuff.”
Her laugh came much easier this time. She rubbed her thumb over his fingers. “We’ll get there. We have time.” The reality of those three words swept through her, banishing all the remnants of darkness and anxiety she hadn’t realized were still there. “We have time.”
Kell smiled at the wonder in her voice and stood, pulling her to her feet. He dug into his pocket and pulled out her engagement ring. A piece of fuzz had caught in the setting. “Crap.” He released her to pluck it off, then wrapped an arm around her waist, as if hand-holding wasn’t nearly enough. “This is less romantic than the last time, but—”
“Hell, yes.” She snatched the ring, wrapped it fiercely in her fist, and planted her mouth on his. With a burst of joy she flung her arms around him, and he wrapped her tight, answering joy reverberating through his kiss, his body against hers, and even the air under her feet as he lifted her off the ground.
When he finally set her down, his smile was freer than she’d ever seen it. For the first time in her life, everything felt completely right.
“Come on,” she told him, turning to leave the café. “Let’s go home.”
About the Author
Natalie J. Damschroder grew up in Massachusetts, and loves the New England Patriots more than anything. (Except her family. And writing and reading. And popcorn.) She writes romantic adventure (sometimes paranormal) as well as YA paranormal adventure as NJ Damschroder. When not writing, she does freelance editing and works part time as a chiropractic assistant. She and her husband have two daughters they've dubbed "the anti-teenagers," one of whom is also a novelist. (The other one prefers math. Smart kid. Practical.) You can learn more about her and her books at www.nataliedamschroder.com.
Other Work by Natalie J. Damschroder
The Brook Hollow Trilogy (contemporary romance)
The Goddesses Rising Trilogy (paranormal romance)
The Soul Series (paranormal romance)
Romantic Adventure
Short Fiction
Young Adult (as NJ Damschroder)
Aftershocks Page 32