“I did.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “But I came back.”
“I see that.” Her heart skipped a beat, then scrambled to catch up. “Why?”
He stepped closer. Started to reach out to her, then dropped his arm. “I was wrong, Charlie.”
Charlie.The nickname shouldn’t melt her into a puddle. Shouldn’t make her stomach flutter or her knees go weak. But it did.
“I shouldn’t have—” Gunner gave his head a shake, closed his eyes. “I need to tell you something that happened when I was a kid. I should’ve told you before. It had a big impact on me.”
Her gaze sharpened on his earnest expression. “Tell me.”
“I haven’t said much about my childhood. Honestly, it’s hard to think about, much less talk about. It started out good. I grew up in this nice community in Minnesota. I had neighborhood friends, a great park nearby, a school I liked. My mom was a stay-at-home mom. My dad was a plumber.”
“You mentioned before he worked long hours.”
“He did. But he was a good dad. We were close. And my mom was the best. She—she was always there for me. We had a pretty great life.”
There was abutcoming. The death of his parents, she assumed. Dread pinched her chest. “What happened?”
He glanced away, off into the darkening night just beyond the fair lights. Off into some other time and place. “One night when I was nine—it was mid-October—I woke up in the middle of the night and the house was on fire. I was so scared. I heard my dad calling for me, but I couldn’t move. I was frozen. Then there was this loud crashing noise and... that was the last thing I remember. Days later I woke up in the hospital. My grandpa was there. He told me my parents were gone. The house was gone. Everything was just... gone.” His jaw flexed.
Oh, she ached for him. She touched his arm. “How awful. I’m so sorry that happened to you. You must’ve been hurt too. You said you were in the hospital.”
He looked at her again, fully in the here and now. He took her hand and placed it just beneath his shirt on his stomach. Holding eye contact, he moved her fingers along a ridged network of raised skin that covered most of his abdomen.
She sucked in a breath as her eyes filled with tears. All those times he’d absently touched his stomach... He wore a constant reminder of that night. “Oh, Gunner.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m fine physically. But the trauma left other kinds of scars.”
“I can only imagine.”
“I had nightmares for years. I’m just beginning to realize the full impact of that night.” His eyes grew intense, piercing hers.“It’s hard to admit this, but . . . the thought of caring too much about anything or anyone scares me. If I care too much—it might all disappear again.”
Her thoughts sharpened with clarity. “That’s why you don’t have belongings. Why you don’t have meaningful relationships. Why you don’t have a home.”
“If I never have it... I can’t lose it.”
Her insides softened until her heart was just a big, achy lump. “Oh, Gunner. That’s no way to live.”
“I know,” he said softly. “It’s not freeing or invigorating. It’s just empty and lonely. I’ve been lying to myself. And I don’t want to live that way.”
“What about Belle Vista?”
“I don’t care about that job anymore. I haven’t cared about it for a long time.” His eyes seemed to see all the way to her core. “When I found you, Charlie, I found my home.”
A tear spilled over. It was what she’d longed to hear. “I want that too.”
His warm breath fell over her mouth just before his lips brushed hers. She savored the feel of him, the taste of him, as he pulled her close. Chest to chest. Heart to heart. She reveled in his gentle caress even while that familiar buzz inside grew from a dull hum to a heavy drone.
She’d never thought to have him in her arms again. Not since he’d walked away from her. The thought pressed in. There was still an unanswered question. Something that had bugged her for four days.
As if feeling her shift of attention, he pulled away. His gaze roved over her face, no doubt seeing every tense muscle, every furrow, every emotion that flickered in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry...”
“You don’t have to be sorry. You can tell me anything.”
“Can I ask you anything?”
