Page 101 of One Kind Soul

When the first tear rolled down her cheek, Christian said fuck you to that cushion between them. He set both of their beer bottles on the coffee table and pulled her into his lap, smoothing her hair then brushing away her tears.

“Let it all out, baby. Leave it all on the floor in here and then we’ll figure out a way to sweep it all away. Together.” He brushed a soft kiss to her lips before she huddled into him, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

Christian held her tight. He rubbed her back. He listened as she relayed her experiences on Kauai to him. He clenched his teeth when he found out Lynda had been responsible for the van in Boston. He offered words of comfort when he could. When he couldn’t, he held Nicole tighter and hoped she could feel the love he had for her. He hoped it seeped right into her soul and did something to begin the process of healing all that Lynda had broken inside her.

He also vowed he would spend his life making sure Nicole never felt this broken again.

****

Nicole had spent many nights in her bed as a kid, crying herself to sleep after Lynda’s trash-talking abuse. That crying had been quiet though. Soft sniffles, muffled by her pillow. The crying she’d done tonight with Christian, however, was much different. Tears gushed from her eyes, soaking her face and Christian’s T-shirt. Her body had shaken with the sobs and her lungs had strained to take in air. There were times she couldn’t speak, her words hyphenated by hiccups and her story paused by tissue breaks to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. She’d never cried like that in her life, but when she’d finished telling Christian everything that had happened, Nicole felt . . . lighter.

Exhausted as shit, but definitely unburdened.

“You mentioned talking to a therapist about Lynda before,” Christian said as he still held her close on the couch. He reached up and hooked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers coil around the strands. “Is that something you’d like to do again after . . . well, after all that happened over the last few days?”

“Probably a good idea.” She didn’t love the notion of talking about everything, but if her cryfest right now had taught her anything, it was that she had some pent-up stuff to work through.

Thinking of that made her recall the woman who had liked Rada’s muffins at the farm’s store. Shelly. Nicole had been convinced she had some abuse in her history as well. How many more women like Shelly—like Nicole—suffered in the same way? Who else needed to know you could survive abuse and go on to make powerful connections to amazing people?

People like Tessa, Donovan, Landon, and Aliza.

Like Christian.

“Aliza’s cousin, Miller, is a doctor,” Christian said. “We can ask him to recommend a therapist.”

“Okay,” Nicole said. “That sounds like a good plan, but . . .” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I wonder if there isn’t more I can do.”

“More?” Christian asked. “What do you mean?”

“I’m . . . not sure yet.” She waved a hand. “Not something to figure out tonight. There’s only one thing I want to do tonight.”

“Play checkers?” Christian pulled her into his lap then snaked his hand up to cup her cheek.

“Play, yes. Checkers, no.” She leaned forward and met him halfway for a kiss. The feel of his lips against hers, of his tongue brushing along hers, of his rough hand on her face all made her unbelievably happy to be back in Vermont with him.

She rested her hands at the back of his neck, her fingers brushing over a slight bump there. Nicole pulled back from the kiss, smiling at Christian’s slight pout. “I didn’t even ask how you are physically. You know, after the bee sting and subsequent near-death experience.”

“I didn’t walk toward the light.”

She pressed her hand to his chest. “I’m serious, Christian. Are you okay?”

“Very okay.” He shifted his hips a bit and she instantly felt his arousal press against her. “The bathroom epinephrine stash has been refilled, by the way.” He held up one hand. “Not that I’m eager for a next time, but at least we’ll be prepared.”

“Good thing I’d been the one to move the epinephrine.” She smoothed his T-shirt. “I wouldn’t have known where to find it otherwise.”

“I know. Stupid that I didn’t show you where it was as soon as we became serious,” he said. “However, Rada, Ben, and Jared did know where it was in the barn loft and about the one in my truck. I would have told you, but I guess I got distracted.” He slid his hand under her shirt and brushed his fingertips over her nipples, immediately tightening them.

“Yeah, it is pretty distracting when Lynda’s plotting to hurt you.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry you and Ben got hurt from my sister’s bullshit. How is Ben?”

“He’s fine. Stitches, but no permanent damage to anything.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“Shepherd Orchard and Farm will be in full swing soon,” Christian said, “but let’s not worry about that now. We need to celebrate that we won against Lynda. That we’re alive.”

“Agreed.”

Christian stood, taking her with him and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Tonight, it’s just you and me, Nixen.”