Page 126 of Falling Back to You

I swallowed hard. Was there anything more attractive than a man taking responsibility for his actions instead of blaming it all on someone else? “I broke your heart. Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt you again?”

“Not particularly.” His gaze tenderly traced my face, leaving a trailing inferno. “I can’t imagine anything hurting more than the last thirteen years of silence between us.” His hands settled on my waist. “This isn’t something I took lightly. I’ve prayed for this. For you. If by some miracle God gave me a second chance to love you, I promised I wouldn’t mess it up. That I wouldn’t let you go again. Because I wasn’t convinced our story was finished.” He cleared his throat. “I should have chased you. I should have been listening.”

Tears slipped over my cheeks like rain, and his thumb wiped at the drops. “I’m broken. There’s no fix for this.” I motioned over my body. “Sometimes I can barely get out of bed. Or I can’t do my dishes or housework for three days because I’m too tired. And—”

He kissed my forehead, stilling my waterfall of words. “Elle, I love you. Broken pieces, flaws, freckles, and all.” His firm declaration caressed my skin like silk, settling over me like a blanket. “We can face anything together. Let me take care of you. Be the person you can depend on. I swear to you, I’m listening this time.” He brushed a thumb over my cheekbones. “I’m not making that mistake again.”

“Okay.”

“That’s all?” he asked with surprise.

“You’ve got a way with words, Cap.” The old nickname slipped out easily.

His eyes turned roguish. “I’ve got something else I’d like to tell you, no words required. And then I’m taking you home to rest.”

“Oh yeah?”

He tipped my chin up. “Unless you oppose, I’m going to kiss you.”

Oppose? Absolutely not. The memory of his kisses had haunted me for years. I smiled and leaned into him.

Cal took it for the permission it was. His big hand slid behind my neck, tangling in my loose curls. His lips hovered over mine for a moment, so close yet so far—waiting—until finally they brushed over mine.

Once.

Twice.

Warmth flooded my veins. Sparkles danced behind my eyes as they fluttered shut. I fisted the back of his denim jacket and let his kiss sweep me away. If his arm hadn’t wrapped around my waist, pulling me tightly against his broad chest, I’d have fallen clean over.

I remembered this kiss. His touch, strong and steady. Familiar like my favourite sweater. A decadent piece of dark chocolate. But it was different too. We weren’t nineteen anymore, figuring things out. We had shared memories and heartache.

Lightly squeezing my waist, he deepened the kiss. It was soft and claiming all at once, filled with hundreds of things we couldn’t find the words for. The tension eased out of my body. Kissing was an effective painkiller, and for once, my mind was deliciously quiet.

Cal felt like home. And I never wanted to kiss anyone else again.

Chapter forty-four

Noelle

“So, you and that Satterfield boy?” Dad’s eyebrows twitched with mischief as he finished mashing a pot of potatoes. “Although he’s hardly a boy anymore.”

I groaned from my perch on the corner counter. “Dad, it’s not like that. Well, it is, but we’re going slow.” I did not confess I’d fallen asleep smiling last night, replaying our kiss. There were some things my dad didn’t need to know. “Ruby started it with her photo shoot.”

“That girl and her schemes.” He chuckled fondly, adding a giant pat of butter to the pot. The more the better. I’d tried to help, but he’d pointed at the counter and told me to relax. Easier said than done. “It’s a season of new beginnings, Elle.”

“I know.” I shifted, picking at the pilling on my sweatpants. Nothing regal about my appearance today. “We’ve forgiven each other, but I just . . .”

“Have a hard time giving yourself the grace to acknowledge you’re human and make mistakes?”

Ouch. But he wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, something like that.”

He hummed. “Walk in that forgiveness then, Elle. Holding onto the past never served the present. Grace isn’t earned, it’s freely given.” He shot me a knowing look, then added another scoop of butter.

Smart man.

A knock on the door interrupted us. Perfect timing.

“Can you get that?” Dad asked, moving to stir his gravy pot.