“But you were good at what you did. You cared about the people.”
“I agree.” He nodded, his black hat dipping and hiding his eyes. “But I lost my way.”
She wanted to rip off that hat. “I … I don’t understand. How can you be so calm about what we did to you?”
“Calm?” He snorted. “If you’ll recall the night you showed up with Cord, I doubt you could call that calm.”
“I’ll never forget it or the way you shouted at me to get out.”
Stone winced. “Not my greatest moment.” He eased up to the security gate, rolled down the window, and entered a code, letting them back onto the property. They ambled the back road to the workshop and his cabin. “I’d built a new life and it was on the verge of being toppled again. I felt I had everything to lose.” He aimed the truck into his private driveway. “I’m a firm believer in God directing our paths.”
“So, God wanted Ladomer to ruin you?”
“No,” Stone sniffed. “I’m saying God knew I needed a reset. He let my choices and mistakes run their natural course.”
“But I was that mistake. So … what, God used me to destroy you?” She heard the panic in her own words, the fear as he parked by the workshop and let the truck idle. If God had allowed the mistakes of a man of character to follow their natural course, which effectively destroyed him, what would the last six years cost her?
My life.
It only made sense. The natural end result was Ladomer finding her. She’d pay for what happened. What she’d done. Oh man. Why had she ever started this conversation? She tucked her chin.
The truck shifted as Stone angled toward her, tipping up the brim to see her clearly. Set his large hand on his chest. “I did this. I caused my downfall. It was my choice to stay with you, to see you, to … be with you that night. To compromise my core values. Hard as my fall was, as ticked off as I was, the only person I can blame is myself.”
“But you did blame me.”
His beard twitched, evidence of his jaw muscle working.
“I think you still do, though you have the diplomatic words to cover the pain.”
His gaze snapped to hers, then bounced away, out the windshield. He killed the engine and grabbed the keys before climbing out of the truck.
Way to kill the mood. She hopped out and hurried around the truck as he grabbed the groceries from the back of the truck.
“Stone, wait.” She caught his arm, but he resisted, reaching for the box of pastries, but she wasn’t giving up. Not this time. Not with him. “Please.”
“What do you want from me, Tizzy? I’m trying to figure this out. Trying to demonstrate some character. I’m doing the best I can.”
He’d called her Tizzy again, a nickname that sparked hope?—but she knew better than to go that route. Yet every time she tried to squash that rebellious thread of hope, he went and did something that shoved her square into its grasp. “You’ve always shown your character?—good character. Always. And I see it now, that you even give me the time of day is more than I deserve. I just … I miss us,” she whispered.
Lips taut, he stared at the pastry boxes sitting on the seat of the king cab.
“How we were in town, it was like … before. And I really liked that, us.”
His gaze skidded into hers like a slow-moving storm cloud. “Me, too.”
That treacherous hope leapt onto a trampoline and flipped high into the sky. Her heart was doing the mamba as they stood, afraid to move, afraid to do the wrong thing. But his face was closer?—he was closer and she felt herself easing into him. “Forgive me?”
“Already have.” His warm words dusted her cheek, and her heart jostled as his gaze drifted to her lips.
“Maybe shave the beard?”
He smirked. “That’s going a bit far.”
“Then?—though I prefer your smooth skin?—I yield, Sir Metcalfe, and will take you as I find you.” She angled in closer, wanting the kiss that dangled between them.
“Need help?” A cheery voice punctured the moment.
Stone straightened and looked back over his shoulder.
