“How did they—”
“I’ll find out.”
“Mo?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you believe me?” That was the real question, wasn’t it? “You just said everything points to me, but you don’t believe it. Why?”
He couldn’t have looked more shocked than if she’d slapped him upside the head with a dead fish. “I know you.” He didn’t release her hands but scooted closer to her on the bench. “I deserve the questions, I’m just not happy that you felt the need to ask them.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t. Listen. We have so much drama between us. So much hurt. So many times when one of us messed up and the other flamed out and refused to forgive, rinse and repeat, until we turned something beautiful that God gave us into something so toxic we couldn’t even speak to each other.”
He let go of her hand momentarily and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I acknowledge my role in that, but one of us has to stop the cycle. That’s what I’m doing. I’m not looking at the numbers. I’m not looking at the supposed facts. I’m looking at you. I’m basing my decisions on whoyouare. On your character. On your dedication. On the way you love this place and the people who work here despite the way your family has treated you your entire life.”
She’d dropped her gaze to where he clasped her hands. When he disentangled one hand, she didn’t try to hold on. She didn’t expect him to use that hand to lift her chin, but when he did, she forced herself to look into his eyes.
“I see you, Bronwyn. I haven’t always. I was young and selfish, and I saw what I wanted to see and ignored the painful parts of your life to the point that I couldn’t understand your choices. ButI’m grown up. We both are. And I choose you. I will keep choosing you. I will dig until I figure out who’s behind this and what they’ve done and then I’ll vindicate you in front of all the people who are too stupid to realize how amazing you are.”
He slid his hand to cup her cheek. “I’ll fight with you and for you. But I will not fight against you. Those days are over. You have my word.”
She had no idea what to say. Or do. She probably should have said something profound.
Instead, she did what she’d wanted to do for ... longer than she was willing to admit. She held his gaze while she leaned forward until her lips brushed against his.
His eyes widened, but his lips didn’t move. She pulled back and whispered, “Thank you.”
He still didn’t move.
Well, that had not gone as—
His lips crashed down on hers. Hers responded eagerly. Both of his hands were in her hair. She slid her hands around his neck, and he pulled her closer. She never, ever wanted the kiss to end.
When he finally let her come up for air, he murmured against her lips. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. I won’t forget. Never again.”
Thirty-Two
Later that evening, Mo sat beside the firepit and tried to focus on the conversation. Eliza was happy, per usual. Her cousin Abby was with her. They were having a sleepover, and Landry and Cal had made the bold decision to allow them to have both mountain piesands’mores.
They were well away from the smoke, bouncing around the yard like blown-up balloons that had been released into the wild. Eliza’s almost full-grown puppy, Pippi, chased after them.
Landry leaned against Cal, both their hands on her ever-growing belly. Meredith was building a new flavor of mountain pie that would either be delicious or an atrocity, and Gray stood by her, laughing as she debated which ingredient to add next.
Maisy couldn’t seem to decide who needed the most attention. She was usually glued to Landry’s side these days. But at the moment, she sat at Bronwyn’s feet while Bronwyn petted her and scratched behind her ears in that spot she loved. It was hard to tell who was happier with the situation.
Bronwyn sat beside Mo, but she’d left room for the Holy Spirit and a few angels.
Mo understood. He even agreed. It was too soon for a publicdeclaration of ... anything. And while the adults present knew, the kids didn’t.
But his mind kept returning to her kisses by the river. The way everything in him—mind, soul, spirit, and body—was finally home. Those pleasant ruminations were battered by the ever-present fact that The Haven accounts told him the woman who’d kissed him senseless earlier today had blackmailed a state senator and embezzled enough money from The Haven that she could reasonably hop a plane for South America and disappear.
And she’d disappeared before.
He’d told her the truth today. He was choosing to believe in her. What he hadn’t told her was that he was having to make that choice over and over again.
The facts in front of him were hard to ignore.
