Page 40 of The Lilac River (Silver Peaks #1)

Starting Over – Chris Stapleton

Lily

“ W hy Concordia then?” Nash asked, brushing my hair from my face with a tenderness that made my heart flutter.

We were lying in my bed, the covers twisted around our legs, the soft hush of the night wrapping around us like a blanket of its own. We hadn’t had sex, but I’d lain in his arms all night just talking and laughing, and yes, there had been a few tears. From both of us.

When Nash had stripped down to his boxer briefs and gotten in behind me, I’d braced myself.

I’d expected his hands to wander again, for him to be a little bit “ungentlemanly,” as Grandma would put it.

But Nash had surprised me. He’d done nothing but wrap me in his arms, fitting his body to mine like we were puzzle pieces long separated.

His chest was warm and solid at my back, his breath a slow rhythm against my neck as we whispered in the darkness.

“If you were looking, I didn’t think you’d find me in Canada,” I explained softly, the memory like a snow globe I hadn’t shaken in years. “Or even look for me there. It felt safe.”

Nash’s body stiffened slightly behind me, the arm around my waist tightening with instinctive protectiveness.

“Were you scared of my dad?” he asked, his voice low and careful, like he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

“No,” I said, after a beat too long. “I was scared of you.”

That got him.

He shifted immediately, moving so he was propped over me, his forearm braced on the mattress. His eyes found mine in the dim wash of moonlight spilling through the window. They were wide, earnest, filled with something fierce and aching.

“Lily,” he whispered. “I would never hurt you.” The way he said it, like an oath, a promise carved into the marrow of him made my chest ache.

“I know.” I reached up to touch the side of his face. “I was scared you’d find me... and I’d come back. And my mom’s life would be ruined…and so would yours.”

His jaw tensed, but his hands, those big, calloused hands that could pull a fence post from frozen ground, were impossibly gentle as they cupped my face.

“And don’t you think being gone all those years ruined your mom’s life?” he asked softly, voice ragged at the edges.

I swallowed hard, my heart clenching. “I saw her. I just never came home.”

The words scraped my throat. “After graduation, I got a job teaching at an elementary school just outside Orchard Lake. Got an apartment. Eventually married Erik.” I let the name land before adding, “My boss.”

I raised a brow, a quiet reminder of what Nash had said that night in the back hallway of Downtown Bar & Grill.

He sighed, grimacing. “Yeah. Not my finest hour.” A beat. “I’m so sorry, Lila.”

“We were both emotional. And we said no more regrets.”

“You’re right,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, then smoothing my hair gently from my face. “But still.” He drew in a breath. “Did your mom visit you often?”

“When I could afford the plane ticket,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Erik always called it frivolous. Said she should drive. But no way was I letting her take that trip alone.”

He didn’t say anything, just listened, the way I’d always needed him to.

“I saw her once a year. We talked a lot, made calls, and video chats. It wasn’t easy. But it let her stay in the town she loved. Live the life that made her happy.”

I looked up at him, at the shadows his lashes cast against his cheekbones, and for one dizzy second, he looked so much like the boy I’d left behind, it stole the breath from my lungs.

Eighteen again.

God, how I’d missed him.

“I wish I’d been braver,” I said.

Nash exhaled slowly, and it sounded like it hurt. “He gave you no choice.” His eyes darkened with protective fury, a storm rising just beneath the surface. “But it’s over now. And he won’t hurt you or your mom. I swear it.”

I nodded. My voice caught in my throat. “I know.” And I did. I believed that Nash would protect us with his life, and somehow, that truth settled in me like sunlight.

“So, Concordia... you had a good time there?” he asked after a moment, his voice a warm rumble that vibrated against my skin as he curled back behind me, pulling me close again.

“It was okay,” I said with a shrug. “I kept to myself, really.”

“How come?” He squirmed slightly, adjusting until I was cocooned in his arms again, chest to chest, his legs tangled with mine.

“I was sad,” I answered honestly. “I just wanted to get my degree and get on with my life.” There was a beat of silence before I continued hesitantly. “Okay, so my turn. How did you meet Bertie’s mom?”

Nash groaned like he’d taken a punch. “Ugh. The less I talk about her the better. The only good thing she ever did was give me Bertie.”

I poked him in the ribs, making him grunt. “Tell me. We’re supposed to be filling in some of the blanks, remember?”

He gave me a flat smile, then kissed my temple, his lips lingering there like he wanted to stay.

“It was a night out in Denver. Remember Donnie Donaldson from high school?”

“Yeah, I do. Tall. Always smelled nice.”

“He did?” Nash frowned, lips puckering in a pout far too adorable for a man his size. “You never said.”

I giggled, patting his cheek. “Not as good as you, though. Now carry on about Denver.”

He rolled his eyes but the smile tugging at his mouth told me he didn’t mind.

“It was Donnie’s birthday. He was home from college, and a few of us went into Denver and stayed the night. Loretta was in the last bar we went into. If it wasn’t for Bertie, I kind of wish we hadn’t gone in there.”

“You must’ve found her attractive, though.”

“Yeah, she’s a good-looking woman. Looks a lot like Bertie.”

“I think Bertie looks like you.” I laughed softly. “Is that why you liked her? Because she reminded you of yourself?”

“No,” he chuckled, pulling me closer and dropping a kiss to my forehead.

“The booze had a lot to do with it. Donnie spent the night with her friend and told her where we were all from. She must’ve let Loretta know.

Ten months later, she showed up at the ranch with Bertie.

Said she was going to work cruise ships and didn’t need a kid holding her back. ”

I inhaled sharply, heart twisting. “How could she? How could any mother? Bertie’s an incredible little girl.”

He shrugged like it didn’t hurt anymore, but I knew it did. “Who knows. But I’m glad she did. Imagine not knowing Bertie? It doesn’t bear thinking about.” He was quiet for a moment. “She signed over her parental rights to me.”

“Yeah, Bertie told me.”

Nash reared back to look at me, surprise flickering across his face. “She did?”

“During Family Tree Day.” I traced his eyebrows with my fingertip, memorizing the shape of him. The man he'd become. The boy I’d loved. “You’ve done such a good job with her, Nash.”

“Like they say, it takes a village. Well, Bertie got me, Wilder, and Gunner.” There was pride in his voice. But something else, too. A quiet longing for what he’d never had.

My chest tightened with sadness. I hadn’t been there. And that would always be a scar.

“Did your dad help out?” I asked softly, though I already knew the answer.

“Not interested. Throws cash at her for Christmas and birthdays. That’s about it.” No bitterness. Just truth and that made it worse.

I yawned and burrowed closer, craving his warmth. “We should go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” he said, stifling a yawn of his own. “It’s almost two. I’ve gotta be back at the ranch by five-thirty. Ride out to check the high ground.”

“You should’ve gone home hours ago.”

He tucked me beneath his chin and pressed a kiss into my hair. “I’ll be fine. Let’s sleep.” Then, quietly: “Tomorrow night, I want you to come to the ranch for dinner. We’ll talk to my brothers.”

“What about Bertie?” I asked, already half-asleep. “What do we tell her?”

“I don’t know. We’ll think of something.

” He smoothed my hair, his hand lingering at the nape of my neck.

“I want more of this.” His voice was low.

Rough. “Not just the good nights and soft kisses. I want the real stuff. Mornings with burnt toast. School forms. You, me, Bertie. The house full of noise and laughter.”

He traced my shoulder with the pad of his finger, each pass like a vow.

“If you’re mine again,” he whispered, “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I was always yours. Every sunrise, every sunset—they’ve all been counting down to this.”

He laid back, pulling me with him until I was sprawled across his chest. His hand slipped under the hem of his T-shirt I was wearing, then down to my hip. His fingers found the waistband of my panties, slipping beneath them, not with urgency, but with quiet claim. Like he belonged there.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep...and something deeper.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “It’s more than okay.”

He didn’t move at first, just breathed me in like he was memorizing my scent. Then he shifted slightly, our legs tangling, his arousal pressing against my thigh.

His breath hitched when I arched into him.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warned softly, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“Maybe I want to get burned.”

His chuckle was low and dark and reverent.

“You sure? Because once I start, Lily...” His eyes burned into mine. “I’m not stopping this time. Ten years is too damn long.”

I kissed him once. Just once. And that was all it took.

“Then don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

And when he touched me, slow and reverent and utterly mine, it wasn’t just passion. It was homecoming.