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“You need a co-writer for your autobiography?” Taran couldn’t hide her shock.
“I need you to be my co-writer,” he corrected.
“How did this even happen?” Taran asked.
The corner of his mouth turned up. “My agent; he’s a resourceful guy.”
“Hot Shots.” She held his two-tone eyes, remembering the conversation. “Hate them.”
“Reporters.” He swallowed. “Used to hate them, but then I met this woman, and she turned everything upside down.”
“I know the feeling.” She paused again. This was so hard, but she needed to say these words. “Corey, I’m sorry. I should have told you about the article.”
He searched her face for a long moment before he nodded. “Yeah, you should have. I think there were a few things you should have told me.”
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“Want to sit down and tell me any of them now?” The hesitance laid heavy in his voice, almost as if he wasn’t sure she’d say yes. But also, the undertone of longing sounded like he was desperate for her to open up. And that longing and the contract in her hand gave her confidence.
She moved wordlessly to the sofa, and he sat a cushion away, the space between them a metaphor for the current gap in their relationship. But maybe if she could open up and talk to him, they could close that chasm.
“After the roadside bomb, I was in so much pain. Not physical; physically, I was fine.” She tossed the contract onto the table and tucked her hair behind her ear as she turned to face him.
His gaze locked on her.
“But emotionally, it hurt to think about it. It hurt to remember Jeremy. It hurt to find meaning in my life. It hurt when people asked if I was okay. I hated it.”
Taran shut her eyes and took a breath. The couch shifted, and she felt a warm hand on her leg. She forced herself to look at him. In his face, she saw sadness for what she’d gone through, but also adoration. She kept going because he needed to hear these words.
“It was easier to lock the pain away. But when I did, I shut a part of myself down. I was sleep walking through life, not feeling anything, but it was easier than hurting.” Tentatively, she placed her hand over his.
He turned his hand palm up and laced their fingers together. “I get that sometimes running away from things is easier than dealing with them. I’ve spent too much time walking away when shit got hard. But I don’t want to do that anymore.” He shifted closer. “Not with you.” The husky words sent a fluttering through her chest.
“I’ve never been able to hide from my feelings for you. The first time you kissed me, I started to wake up.”
His eyes danced, and he almost smiled. “Like sleeping beauty.”
She chuckled. “I guess. But you made me feel more than awake. You made me feel alive and loved. And I wanted to hold on to that so bad that I didn’t want to say anything that would wreck it.”
“Not saying hard things doesn’t make them go away.” He raised his eyebrows.
“I know, and I’m so sorry, but I was so afraid of admitting so many things, especially how I felt about you.”
He sucked in a breath. “And now?”
She looked into his two-tone eyes. “I love you, Corey.”
He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her over to straddle his lap. He tucked her tightly against his chest and buried his face in her neck.
His arms shook as he hugged her. “I love you too,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
The top of his hair tickled her jaw as he held her. Warmth washed over her, along with a wave of contentment. The ache in her chest was there, but she felt whole for the first time in a very long time.
Taran ran her palm along the rough hair of his beard as she tipped his face up to hers. His breath danced across her lips, and she longed to press her mouth to his, but she had more to say.
“Corey, from now on, no more hiding. About anything. I’ll feel the hard things. I’ll say the hard things, even when I know you might not want to hear them.”
“And I promise I’m not going anywhere. We deal with the hard shit together.”
Her heart swelled with his words, and she pressed her lips to his, sealing the pledge with a kiss.
