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“Maybe not wide open, though,” she retorted, those pretty eyes regarding him carefully. “I know it must have been hard sharing that story about Chelsea with me. I also know you told me that to make me feel more comfortable, and I’m really grateful for it.”

“Like I said, fair is fair.”

She smiled. “Still, it was sweet of you.”

Sweet. Peyton only thought that because she still didn’t know the entire truth of what happened with Chelsea. She didn’t know how destroyed he had been, didn’t know it had taken him a year to look in the mirror again and recognize the man staring back at him.

Before he could figure out how to explain, somehow feeling that he wanted her to know more of him, she wiggled a little closer, bringing all her warmth near him. And that’s where all the complicated shit faded away. She warmed him up, from the inside out, making his mind quiet in ways it had never been quiet.

Her toes brushed against his. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive Chelsea?”

He inhaled the vanilla scent coming off her skin. “I’m not sure there is anything to forgive. Back then, I was too angry to see anything but what she’d done to me. Time and distance change one’s perspective.”

Her toes ran up the front of his foot to his calf. “When’s the last time you saw her?”

The house was silent around them, not a whistle of the breeze outside, nothing. Silence like this used to drive Boone mad. Now, with Peyton there, he felt relaxed, regardless of the topic. “The last time I saw Chelsea was at the courthouse when she was sentenced.”

Peyton’s brows rose. “Did she go to jail?”

“She was in jail before her court hearing. She couldn’t afford bail. But she had no previous convictions. Hell, she didn’t even have a speeding ticket. So the judge gave her a year of community service.”

Peyton went quiet, obviously thinking all this over. “I take it you weren’t at the hearing to support her?”

Boone snorted a laugh. “No, I wasn’t at the hearing. Hell, I was the one who left her in jail, knowing her parents didn’t have the money to bail her out.” The moment he said the words, he regretted them, hearing how cold he sounded. He exhaled a long breath before addressing her again. “And in case you’re wondering, no, that does not make me proud.”

A softness washed across her face, drawing him in. She slid her fingers into his, holding him like she never planned to let go. “I imagine anyone in your position would feel the same way when someone they loved backstabbed them like that. I know I would be furious.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said with a soft laugh, brushing his thumb across her palm. “You don’t have that in you.”

She watched him again. “How do you know that?”

“Because you are too sweet to feel that level of hatred.” He leaned in and gave her a tender kiss on her nose.

When he backed away, she smiled. “Not always, believe me. I get mad sometimes.”

“And I bet you’d still look cute…and still be nice.”

She laughed softly, then shifted a little, and the blanket fell farther down her side, revealing more of her gorgeous body in the moonlight. “I take it that you haven’t reached out to Chelsea since?”

He shook his head, surprised his chest didn’t tighten like it usually did when he thought about his ex-wife. “She’s never called. I’ve never called her.”

“But she used to live here, though, didn’t she? Doesn’t she have family to come home to see?”

“Her brother left for New York City right after college, and her parents moved to New York City around the time Chelsea and I did. She had one uncle here, but he passed away about a year ago.”

Peyton went quiet again, watching him.

He finally chuckled at her pinched expression. “Got a lot on your mind now?”

She inhaled a big long breath through her nose and lifted her shoulder. “Just thinking that life is crazy. You have an ex-wife who you can talk to but don’t want to. I had a husband I want to talk to but can’t. Just funny how life goes, isn’t it?”

“Believe me,” Boone said in all seriousness, “not being able to talk to the people you want to is so much harder than forgetting the people you’d rather not know.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Her gaze held his, strong and steady, her voice all tenderness. “I’m sorry she did that to you. You deserve so much better than that.”

He smiled. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not. It happened. It’s in the past.”

Before she could say anything more, she yawned. He chuckled, gathering her in his arms until he was spooning her, holding her tight. “And that’s a sign you’ve learned enough about me for one night.”

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