Page 49

Kit was the woman he called every day and fixed sandwiches for as she waited on hold for hours with the insurance companies.

He helped sweep the ash from the sidewalk outside her trucking office and wiped the filth from her windows.

She was his first thought in the morning and the last prayer of the night.

Together, they’d worked to process their immense disappointments.

They hadn’t saved Annette. And Nico hadn’t been called to account for what he’d done to her or any of the other women he’d enslaved.

But the cops had assured them they would work diligently to bring closure to the families of those he’d murdered, track down the women who were still shackled by his trafficking, and provide help and rescue.

They’d already made strides thanks to the photos Kit had plucked from Nico’s pocket before he’d been swallowed by Mount Ember.

It wasn’t enough. Not nearly, but Nico and Simon wouldn’t damage any other women, and Tot would be raised in safety by people who loved her.

That would have to do. Countless conversations and many more cups of coffee and tears and talking and venting, and they’d come to a peace about it, a tentative one, anyway.

Kit had been nervous at first, when he started coming over, unaccustomed as she was to having someone jabbering away in her space, but she’d gradually allowed him to chat, bring pizza, and even deliver a skinny, freezing cat he found on the side of the road.

The animal was now queen of the castle with an intense attachment to Kit and a duty to keep Cullen a safe distance away.

The cat had eerily green eyes that seemed to peer into his soul. Kit had named her Olive.

As he climbed Kit’s front step, Olive gave him a haughty look as if she knew what he was planning and didn’t approve.

Ingrate.

The box felt heavy in the pocket of his barn jacket. His fingers were cold as he reassured himself it was there for the dozenth time. Nerves , Cullen? Aren’t we past that stage? He wasn’t some knock-kneed high schooler, and he knew Kit about as well as one person could know another.

In spite of the bond they’d created during their harrowing journey, he wasn’t totally sure how she’d react to his offering. There was still that wild and untethered part of her nature that relished the solo path, the solitary journey. He cleared his throat and stifled the nerves. Here we go.

He joined her in the kitchen, where she’d stacked a pile of paperwork.

“I ... got you something.”

She cocked her head at him. “Why? It’s not my birthday.”

He smiled. “Kit Garrido, you don’t have to have a birthday for a gentleman to present you with a token of his esteem.” Annnnddd ... I’ve suddenly become my grandfather . He straightened and took a breath, gave her the box. “I wanted you to have this.”

She opened it, her brow crimping as she pulled out a key. Then she turned those glimmering eyes on him, and the moment had come.

He felt cold. Then hot. He took her hand and guided her outside, around the back, and up the road to the Freightliner tractor parked under the trees. Not yellow—he hadn’t been able to find one—but a luminous white that dazzled the vision.

“It’s an older model than you had. No way yours could be salvaged, but I thought this one would get you back in business until the insurance settles. At that point you’ll have a spare rig, or you can hire another driver, grow your fleet if you want to.”

She blinked—gaped, in fact—staring at the freshly stenciled logo on the side.

Garrido Trucking.

She stood as if she were made of wood, key still dangling from her fingers.

“See if the key works,” he urged, guiding her gently by the shoulder.

She walked, somewhat dazed, to the truck, opened it, climbed up, lithe as Olive the cat.

Her shoulders hitched when she laid eyes on her teddy bear strapped carefully in the passenger seat.

The toy had been bundled in Tot’s clothing when they’d barely escaped the trailer, saved by the narrowest of margins like all of them had been.

Archie had carefully stitched the ear back on for him, since he wisely said Cullen would make a mess of it with his clumsy, fat fingers.

Without a word, she climbed down again, and for a moment she just breathed, staring at her shoes. His stomach tightened. Should he say something? What was she thinking? Feeling?

Her foggy gaze slid to him. “You bought this? For me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How?”

He shrugged. “Had a little account I cashed in.” At a steep penalty, but somehow that part didn’t seem to hurt at all. Unless she rejected the whole thing, of course. Then he’d be crushed and financially unwise. Go big or go home , Landry .

“Why?” she demanded. “Why did you get this for me?”

“I know how important your truck was to you, and I...” His throat was sand dry, and he forced a swallow. Three little words. Why did they weigh so much? “I love you.”

There it was, dropped between them like a boulder launched from a volcano. The closer they’d grown since their rescue, neither had dared to use the L-word aloud. Until now.

He was buried in the most profound silence of his life. He could actually hear a pine needle flutter to the ground. Each second stretched his nerves tighter.

She stared at the truck, then back at him, shaking her head. Shaking, not nodding. A bad sign.

“But it’s not a package deal,” he mumbled, realizing he should have handled the conversation completely differently.

“The truck, I mean. If you don’t feel the same way about me in the love department, I can deal with it.

” Somehow. “The truck’s yours one way or the other.

What would I do with a big rig? Horses are plenty, and where would I park it anyway? ”

“You bought me a truck. You love me.” It was as if she were reciting something she’d learned at school as a kid.

“Yep. That about covers it.”

He couldn’t handle another extended silence.

His nerves were banging like an old screen door.

“And there is no way you can tell me we don’t know each other well enough for me to love you because when you spend three days together crammed in an ATV with a stranger’s baby, running from a killer and a volcano, dodging bullets and lava, you learn all you need to know about a person’s character. The month after was icing on the cake.”

She jutted her chin at him, black eyes gleaming. “And what exactly do you know about me, Cullen?” It was a challenge that ignited sparks in his soul because he heard the throb of hope in it.

He stepped closer. “I know you got moxie. You got faith. And you’re not afraid to face down whatever this world throws at you.”

She spoke, chin up, defiant. “I’ve had a man tell me I was his world before, and look where that landed me.”

“Yeah, but he was a galoot and I’m not, no matter what you say. And you’re magnificent, and if he couldn’t see that, he’s a clueless galoot.”

“Magnificent?”

“Oh yeah.”

Her mouth quirked down at one end. “If I’m brave it’s because I had to be, that’s all. That’s not why you should love a person.”

“No, it’s not. I love you because you’re Kit Garrido.

You’re strong enough to use a hanger against a bad guy and you’re tender enough to sing ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game’ to a baby even though you can’t remember the words.

You don’t play games and you don’t lie. And you got so many thoughts and plans in here”—he tapped her temple—“that you’re bursting with them.

I love you, Kit.” He leaned close. “And you know what?”

He saw himself mirrored in her irises, and he knew. The tickle of joy kicked up as a slow smile spread over his face.

“What?” she breathed.

“I think you love me back,” he whispered.

“I...”

But loving someone was one thing. Living it out was altogether different, a road she had not traveled for a long while. The moment of truth. The answer that would change his life. He could not draw a full breath.

Gradually, she looked down and said nothing at all. Not one word.

His heart plummeted. That was that. Miscalculation. He tried to swallow the pain. “Okay. Well, anyway, the truck’s yours.”

She didn’t say anything, do anything to stop him when he turned away, his heart falling into jagged pieces in his chest. Maybe she needed more time? Or was this the way things would remain?

If so, he’d learn to live without her, of course, but he’d always ache for what they might have had, should have had. She cleared her throat.

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” she said in a very small voice.

He snapped around. “What?”

“You’re kind of insufferable when that happens.”

He stood there gaping, mouth open. “When I’m ... right?”

Her grin flashed and she laughed, a long, buttery, rich laugh that pushed all the sadness clean out of him. “I do love you, Cullen Landry. Can you believe it?”

He leapt toward her, grabbed her in an embrace, and whirled her so vigorously the key flew from her hand and landed in the grass. Their kiss was completion, a mending of broken places, a tender seal of trust, a promise. When he finally put her down, they were both breathless.

“It’s not just because of the truck?” he teased. “You sure about that?”

“Yes, but if you give me a semi for a one-month dating anniversary, you’ll be bankrupt by our second.”

Now he laughed too. “I’m willing to risk it.”

“Because all I can afford to give you while I’m building my trucking business is that measly jar of olives. You’ll have to learn to love them, Landry.”

“For you, Kit Garrido, I will do my very best.”

And he would. Every day, every mile, every moment God let them share.