Page 41 of Back To Our Beginning

“Are you going to let me in? Cause if you don’t, I’ll start yelling…”

I yanked his arm and pulled him inside. He immediately turned on a light, and I blinked a few times so I could get a better look at him. I could see that he had been running his fingers through his hair, a sure sign that he had been agitated.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you we needed to talk. We need to work out everything. Us. Everything.”

“I hate talking,” I whined. Then, when I heard my whiny tone, I slapped my hand over my mouth.

Beau grinned. “You do not hate talking. You love to talk. Just not about your emotions.”

“You’re a man. You’re not supposed to like to talk about your emotions.”

“But I did,” he whispered.

Damn, he was right.

He tugged me into the armchair and pulled me into his lap.

I sagged against him, my forehead dropping against his chest. “You’re saying all the right things. I hate it when you do that. How do you do that?”

“I do it because I know you. I do it because they come from my heart and my heart belongs to you. Haven’t you figured it out, Maddie? We’re still it for one another.”

I looked up at him. I felt a hitch in my breath. The one I couldn’t seem to control. He saw it. Probably felt it, too.

“You’re just…” I looked away, hating the crack in my voice. “You’re just so good at this. I’m only good at talking out feelings with my kids. Not my own.” I looked up into his beautiful, compassionate gaze. “You say things that make it impossible for me to keep my guard up.”

“That’s because what I’m saying is true.” He gathered me closer. His voice lowered. “You remember that time in eighth grade? Your sisters were at your Granny’s for the weekend, but you stayed back because of dress rehearsal for the school play. Remember?”

I frowned. Then my eyes opened wide. Everything came flooding back.

“Yeah, you remember. I remember it like it was yesterday. You were so cute and excited. You were playing a girl named Emily in Our Town.”

I smiled, but then grimaced, as I remembered what happened the evening he walked me home. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there,” I said softly.

“I hated your mom. She never gave a shit about you or any of your sisters. I could hear the music and the voices from outside the door of your house. I should never have let you open it.”

I couldn’t look into his eyes. I stared at the front of his shirt.

“I couldn’t believe it when that drunk snatched your arm and tried to grab your breast. I lost my mind.”

I could see it in my head. Beau had yanked me back out on the porch so fast I’d almost fallen, and he shoved at the big man who was so much bigger. But he was drunk, so he’d staggered back. We’d taken off running for Beau’s house.

“You were wonderful,” I murmured.

“You were so strong.” He put his knuckles underneath my chin and tipped my head back so he could see my face. “Mom made you hot chocolate, and you crashed on the couch. I stayed up all night just to make sure you were okay.”

“You did?”

Beau nodded.

Tears burned the backs of my eyes. I hadn’t thought about that night in years. But now I remembered everything. Not the fear—though, that was there—but the safety.

Beau.

Always Beau.

“Maddie, I’ve been showing up for you since we were kids,” he said. “I don’t plan to stop now.”