“Hey.” Will made his way behind the counter. “We need to talk.”
“You’re right. In the kitchen.” She led the way, wishing her heart wasn’t so soft. Wishing he didn’t smell so good. The door swung shut behind them, and she took a ragged breath. She didn’t know what to believe. What to risk.
She wanted him to leave.
Wanted him to hug her.
“Are you still mad?” Will crossed his arms over his chest and studied her.
She shrugged, fiddling with a striped oven mitt. “I don’t know what to think.”
“I think you overreacted.”
Her defenses flared. “Are you kidding me?”
He spread his hands wide. “I didn’t do or say anything inappropriate at the party. And yet you were jealous.”
“Jealous?” Hardly. More like just trying to survive and be wise. All of Melissa’s precursors fled away in the light of his accusation. “I highly doubt that.”
“I tried to bring you into the conversations. You checked out.”
“I checked out because everyone there kept telling me all about Free Willy.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “Did you know you’re a legend?”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Free Willy. Are you serious? Someone told you that?”
“Yes.” She blinked back tears of aggravation, slapping the oven mitt on the counter. “I already felt left out and out of place because of my stupid shirt and—”
He frowned. “Your shirt?”
She brushed it off. “Forget it. I just meant I didn’t belong, and hearing all about your frat-boy, glory-day stories from those women . . . it was too much.” No wonder he was confused. Even now, it sounded superficial, empty, shallow. Exactly like overreacting.
But in her heart, it was so much more than that. Her defensiveness morphed into frustration. With Zoe’s father, for being such a jerk. With Will, for making her care so much so fast.
With herself.
“You know what I think?”
“Oh please, enlighten me.” She didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm from her tone.
“I think you’re scared.”
She blinked at him, and he came closer, walking toward her until he backed her against the counter.
“I think you’re afraid to trust anyone again, and you’re so used to searching for reasons not to, that you’ve started making them up.”
“What? That’s—that’s crazy.”
“Is it?” He had her pinned against the counter now, one arm braced on either side. “I have a past, one I’m not proud of. That’s a given.”
Don’t we all? a voice inside her head whispered. You’re a fine one to hold a grudge against someone because of their past. Guilt nudged her stomach.
“But do you really believe I’m still Free Willy, Charlotte?”
She refused to look in his eyes, staring instead at the Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. A muscle in his jaw clenched. Was he nervous? Nervous because he was lying?
She risked a quick glance at his face, then away. No, not nervous. Anxious. Because this mattered to him.
She mattered to him.
She closed her eyes. Her head throbbed with all the indecision and uncertainty. “I don’t know.”
“You do know.” His breath warmed her neck as he drew even closer. “Look in my eyes, Charlotte. Eyes don’t lie. What are they telling you?”
She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to risk it. What about Zoe? What about her own heart? She couldn’t afford to let it break again. Couldn’t afford to be made a fool again.
“Look at my eyes, Charlotte.” He waited, not budging, making her decide.
She swallowed hard. Memories of her time with Will flittered through her mind. Their nonstop laughing at the restaurant. The way his eyes twinkled when he bought snickerdoodles. His warm kisses. Zoe’s smile when he walked into the bakery.
She met his eyes. Saw how they brimmed openly with sincerity. With honesty.
With—love?
This wasn’t Free Willy anymore. This was a man who had been changed and remade and who was taking his own risk by stepping out toward her. And all he asked is that she step out and meet him halfway.
He wasn’t exactly safe. Or entirely predictable. But he’d looked into her eyes and she had seen the truth there. He had nothing to hide—and everything to give.
“I believe you.” The whispered words had barely left her lips before he covered them with his own. He kissed her deeply, erasing any further doubts.
Then he pulled away. “Are you sure? Last chance to change your mind.” He grinned, as if he knew there wasn’t a chance at all.
“I’m sure.” They kissed again, slower this time, until Charlotte’s insides melted like the hot chocolate in her brownie batter.
She turned her head slightly, pressing her cheek against his. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“Everyone heals in their own way, in their own timing.” Will rested his forehead against hers before dropping a kiss against her nose. “Though I have to say, I’m glad it didn’t take you any longer.”
She swatted him with her oven mitt, then pulled him back for another kiss. “I thought I wanted safe.”