Page 68 of My Secret to Protect

As I lay here, my mind looping around the information overload I had this morning, cold air suddenly hits my skin, and I close my eyes. He fixed the air conditioning. I needed to clean, and he needed to fix something, both of us gave the other the space and time to do that.

Pushing myself up from the bed, I stand in front of the mirror and look myself in the eye. I look exhausted. My hair, which I washed just a couple of hours ago, is still damp and braided to the side, and I can see the difference in my shape from the lack of workouts of late. I’m losing myself, and the only time I feel like me is when Arlo looks me in the eye. I pretend in front of my family, but when he looks at me, even when he looks pissed off with me, even when I’m pissed off with him, I feel like Breanne Campbell. I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes even now. I feel so much when I’m held in his gaze, and after the last few months of feeling nothing but fear and exhaustion, it means more than anything.

Without overthinking, I reach out and grip the doorknob, twisting and pulling the door open and heading for the stairs. Beans pads over to me as I reach the bottom, but I don’t see Arlo.

‘Hey, buddy,’ I say softly, reaching out to stroke his head as he nuzzles against my leg like a cat, and I can’t help but smile. ‘Everything is okay, Beans.’ I bend down to kiss his head. ‘Where’s your daddy?’ He starts toward the back door, and I look up to see it open. ‘He’s out there, huh?’ Taking a deep breath, I shake out my shoulders and head for the door.

When I get there, my heart pounds in my chest. Arlo is sitting on the porch steps, his back to the door, just staring out over the backyard, and I swallow hard.

Am I really doing this? I silently acknowledge the way my heart aches to comfort him, and I know, yes, I am because it's Arlo. Despite it all, the heartbreak, the decades apart, the hurtful words and actions, he’s still the one for me. After all this time and all this bullshit, it’s still him.

Padding barefoot across the back porch, I make my way down the steps to stand on the damp grass at the bottom. With my short stature and him sitting on the top step, we’re eye-level as he lifts his head, raising his sad eyes to meet mine and inhales deeply.

‘Hi,’ I say softly, and his lips part in surprise at my sudden softness.

‘Bree, I...’

‘I said hi,’ I cut him off, gently, and he inhales deeply once more before letting it out shakily.

‘Hi.’

‘I missed you.’

Air whooshes out of him, and the relief in his expression is clear as in a desperate rush, he reaches out to grip my hips and pull me to him, forcing me to clamber up the steps as he pulls me into his lap.

‘I fucking missed you.’

My fingers sink into his hair as my mouth crashes against his, and I lose myself to kissing him freely for the first time in so long. It’s not like at the bar when we were putting on a show after a few beers or last night when tiredness and arousal took the wheel. This is relief and nostalgia and that feeling of home that I only ever felt with him.

Arlo’s lips move slowly against mine, and my tongue rolls against his. His huge hand roams the skin of my back under my shirt as my fingertips rake across his scalp, and I feel like I can’t get enough of him. I’m needy and clingy as my body bows toward his, and from somewhere, he finds a moment of clarity and pulls back, resting his forehead against mine.

‘Bree, I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.’

‘Shh.’ My hand comes to his jaw, the scratch of his beard against my palm giving me the awareness I needed that this is real, this is happening. ‘We can’t change the past, Arlo, but we have the future. If you want that.’

He exhales, and I see the relief soften his features.

‘I want that, short stuff. I want every day of that future with you.’

Stepping back, I reach for his hand and start to make my way back up the steps. Arlo pulls on my hand and looks up at me as I look down and answer his unasked question.

‘How about we start right now.’

Arlo stands and follows me inside the house, then sends Beans to his bed before stopping, and I turn to him.

‘Go upstairs. I’m going to lock the doors.’

With a small smile, I step away and head for the stairs, giddy with the excitement of having him. He’s mine. This isn’t an act now. We’re not pretending anymore. I head for his room, as he catches me up and stops me.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Um, your bed,’ I say, my head tipping back to look up at him as he steps close to me.

Smiling, he shakes his head softly. ‘That isn’t my bed, short stuff.’ Stepping back, he pulls me toward my room, and what he’s saying hits me.

‘You gave me your bed.’ It’s not a question, and he shrugs. ‘Why?’

‘Because it’s more comfortable than the piece of shit that came with the house. I slept on shitty beds my whole life, pix, I could do it for a few more weeks, but I needed you to be comfortable.’

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