Page 57

“Chet.” She tipped the buckle toward him. “You earned this.”

“I’d like you to keep it.” He left his hands resting on his knees. “If you want to.”

Her fingers tightened around the metal. She’d expected him to explain why it meant so little now. Instead, he’d told her about a photograph he’d wanted for himself. She could picture him standing there, tired and pleased, forgetting the camera while he looked at what he’d worked so hard to earn.

“I’d like to see that picture,” she said.

His gaze lifted to hers. “I’ll find it for you.”

“The one with your hat.”

Chet chuckled. “Of course that’s the one you want.”

Lydia looked down at the buckle again. “I’ll keep it. But you can still be proud of it when it’s mine.”

“I think I can manage that.”

She smiled, then let her fingers settle over the engraved letters. “I’m glad you told me why you brought it.”

There were still things she didn’t know about him. Tonight she’d asked, and he’d stayed beside her through all the questions. She wanted more evenings with him, enough to hear about the photographs and the places he’d lived. Enough to learn things she hadn’t thought to ask.

Lydia slipped out of her jacket and folded it beside her. She laid the buckle on it, then leaned into Chet, her cheek brushing his shoulder. His arm came around her, and she let herself settle there.

For a little while, they sat without speaking. His hand rested lightly against her arm. Lydia covered it with hers before she lifted her head. “I want us to try again.”

He turned toward her. “You do?”

“I love you, Chet.” The words caught in her throat, but she kept her eyes on his. “I was hurt, and I needed time. But I don’t want to keep you outside guessing what I’m thinking. I want to talk to you, even when I’m scared of the answer.”

His fingers closed around hers. “I love you, too. And I’ll give you an honest one.”

Lydia nodded. She’d come outside tonight prepared to ask him what he wanted and send him on his way. Now his hand warmed hers, and she couldn’t stop smiling at him.

Chet reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek. “I want to kiss you so bad.”

She considered that. “Then I guess you shouldn’t blow it.”

His laugh came out a little unsteady. Hers did, too. She rested her hand against his chest.

He waited while she moved closer. Beneath her palm, his heart beat fast, and a small, unexpected tenderness washed over her. Chet, who could tease her into blushing without effort, looked as nervous as she was.

“Come here,” she whispered.

His smile softened. He brushed his thumb along her cheek and leaned toward her, slow enough that she met him halfway.

She closed her eyes when his lips touched hers. Her fingers curled in his shirt, and he drew her gently against him. For a moment, she could only feel how carefully he held her, one hand at her cheek, the other warm against her back. She’d spent days pulling away from the thought of this. Now she leaned into him, letting him feel that she wanted to be here.

He paused with his forehead resting against hers. Lydia opened her eyes to find his close, his smile just beginning. She touched the corner of it with her thumb, then kissed him herself.

His arms settled around her. The tension in her shoulders eased as she rested her hands against him, and when the kiss ended, she stayed close. His breath stirred the hair at her temple. Neither hurried to fill the quiet.

At last, Chet pressed a kiss to her forehead. Lydia tucked her face beneath his chin, smiling against his shirt while his hand moved once over her back.

“There you are,” he murmured.

She closed her eyes and held him a little tighter.

When she leaned back, he brushed her hair away from her face again. “I should tell you something before you start thinking I’ve got everything figured out.”