“Not your fault.” Voice far more firm, I rubbed his upper arm. “You did the best you could with the information you had at the time.”
“Say that again,” Carson commanded, all sergeant and as serious as I’d seen him.
“You did the best…” I trailed off as I realized who he was having me repeat the words for. “Oh.I did the best I could at the time.”
“Yep.” Carson tilted my chin, forcing me to see how certain he was, how much he believed in me. “You were a kid. You followed an order.”
I let myself see eighteen-year-old Jude. God, I’d been so young.I was a kid. I followed an order. I did the best I could.The lock to that box of guilt shattered, years of emotion breaking free as tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them and wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“Felt like losing my friends that day and then my parents later was my punishment,” I admitted between sobs.
“It wasn’t.” Carson squeezed my shoulder.
“And then I just kept right on punishing myself.” I exhaled so hard my throat burned. “I didn’t think I deserved to be happy.”
“You do.” Carson held me close, unbothered by my crying. “We both do.”
“Trying to believe that.” I gave a futile swipe at my eyes.
“Nothing you did changes this.” Carson pulled away so he could tap his chest, right above his heart.
“Oh.” Time stood still, the enormity of what he’d said sinking in slowly like a soaker hose over a long dormant flower bed. My chest swelled, the empty spot that box of guilt had occupied replaced by something altogether new:hope.
“Jude?” Carson made me look at him again. “I love you.”
“Now?” I blinked. I was falling apart in a public parking lot, damp and soggy with years of repressed guilt and shame, barely able to get a coherent thought together. And he loved menow?
“Yeah, now.” He chuckled like I was being ridiculous.
“I’m a mess.”
He shrugged. “Turns out I like mess.”
“You haven’t known me that long. Only a couple of months. What if?—”
“Long enough to know.” Carson silenced me with a finger against my lips. “Not changing my mind.”
His eyes never wavered. Damn. He actually meant it. And this was Carson, the guy I trusted to keep his word. If he said he loved me, he must. And if he said he wasn’t leaving, he wouldn’t.
“I might love you too,” I whispered like a lower volume could make the truth less terrifying.
“Might.” Chuckling, Carson rolled his eyes at me before leaning in for a fast kiss. “Gonna have to work on that.”
“That sounds ominous.” It felt good to join his laughter.
“Good to have goals.” Carson used his index finger to check things off an imaginary list. “Get you to drop that might.”
“I think that could be arranged.” I wasn’t sure if I was bold enough to say it right this moment, but like Carson said, it was a good goal. And I knew in my heart it was true. Didn’t matter how many months. I simply knew, and maybe I had from the instant I’d walked into the horse barn his first day.
“Good.” Carson gave me another sound kiss. “Next goal is family dinner.”
“Family dinner?” I made a pained noise. “Give you an inch…”
“Maverick and Colt invited you.”
“Well, since you love me.” My voice caught onloveas I tried the sentence out, but it felt true. Carson did love me. I could lean into that truth. “I guess I can be brave.”
“That’s the spirit.” Carson nodded like our love and the dinner going well were done deals.
