Page 116 of Stormswept Colorado

“On all my playlists. And I’ve watched all your music videos. But only around a thousand times.”

Ayla belly-laughed, and my entire body glowed with satisfaction. I loved making her laugh. Making her happy.

“I’m glad you like what I do,” she said. “That means a lot.”

“You should be so damn proud of everything you’ve accomplished, sweetheart.”

“About that. I like when you call me sweetheart. But what happened to calling me Troublemaker?”

“You’re that too. My Troublemaker.” My lips brushed the tip of her nose. “You’ve shaken up my whole world. I never thought I would have this. Someone like you.” I didn’t mean her physical beauty or the fame or anything material that came along with it. Imeant that inner light that shone from her. Drawing me in. Showing me, in sharp relief, everything I’d been missing.

“Neither did I.” She touched my face, her gaze every bit as adoring as mine.

This was the moment. It felt right. I had to make sure she knew what I felt.

“Ayla, I love?—”

She jolted away like a spooked rabbit. Frightened eyes stared back at me.

Shit. Not the reaction I’d hoped for. It had been obvious what I was about to say.

“Is it too soon?” I swallowed my disappointment.

“No, I… I just…”

Before I knew it, a tear streaked down her face like a falling star.

“Hey,” I murmured. “What is it?”

“I need to tell you something.” Her voice shook. Whatever this was, she was already broken up about it.

Like she’d been holding it in for too long.

“You can tell me anything.” I pulled her fully into my lap, Ayla straddling me. Scooting my hips forward on the cushion, I reclined so she could rest her weight against me. Getting as comfy as possible.

It was a solid minute before she spoke again, her face hidden against my shoulder. “I’m a liar.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

Teller

“A liar? What do you mean?”

“I didn’t run away.”

Confusion kept me from responding. But maybe I wasn’t supposed to say anything yet.

She struggled to get the words out. “That night. When I was sixteen. The night I left. The colonel, my dad, when he saw me on the porch with Roy Carpenter…”

“I remember you telling me about it.” I petted the back of her head, thinking what Ayla had shared already about the night she left home. How she’d babysat a neighbor boy. Sergeant Carpenter, the kid’s father, walked her home afterward. Tried to force a kiss on her.

“The colonel called me names.” She swallowed, as if she wanted to push the words back down, but they kept coming. “Trashandslutandwhore.” Her body shook like each one was a blow.

“Sweetheart,” I whispered. Wishing I could take that pain away.

“And then he told me…told me that was the last straw. Told me to pack a bag and be gone by the morning. I wasn’t welcome there. He kicked me out. Threw me away.” She was crying.

I held her tighter. Kissed her hair, so she knew I was here. I was listening.

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