Page 84 of Return of the Bad Girl (Rock Canyon, Idaho 4)

Caroline looked up in time to see Justin come down the walk and hold out his arms to Val. She went into his embrace, wrapping her arm around his waist and looking up at him with so much love. Caroline was happy for her, glad she had come out of their dysfunctional childhood whole and made the best of it. Hell, Val had made the best of it and then done better. She was happy.

Happiness had been elusive to Caroline for most of her life.

When they reached the car, Caroline whispered, “Did you hear?”

Gabe let her slide down his body as he took her keys from her.

“Did you hear?” she asked, louder, angrier.

“I had already guessed,” Gabe said, opening her door.

What?

“But . . . how?” She felt his rough palm brush her hair back, but Caroline couldn’t look him in the eye.

“It was just a feeling I had. I didn’t want to ask you about it, in case I was wrong.”

“And now? Do you want to ask me something?” she said, climbing into the front seat.

Still outside the car, he squatted down next to her and took her chin in his hands, forcing her to finally meet his gaze.

“Whether you tell me or not is up to you,” he said, stroking her cheek. “It won’t change the way I think of you.”

Raw emotion choked her. “How . . . how do you see me?”

He leaned forward, brushing her lips with his. “I see a woman who was hurt and lashed out at others because of it.” She bit her lip as he continued. “And then that woman overcame her pain, grew from all that anger, and turned her life around. And I see a woman who, because of everything she’s been through, can look at the people around her and find the good that she thought was lost a long time ago.”

With a sob, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, cradling the back of his head.

He returned the kiss for a minute or two before he pulled away and squeezed her hand. “To be continued.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Being loved is not the greatest gift. The greatest gift someone can give is acceptance.”

—Miss Know It All

CAROLINE HAD NOT been blissfully happy in her entire life—except for brief times during her childhood—but lying in bed now with Gabe was pretty damn close.

They’d come home from her sister’s and fallen into bed, taking their time with each other until they’d been too sated to move. Now, in the afterglow, Caroline’s mind drifted to all the things she hadn’t shared with Gabe. It didn’t seem fair that he had told her about his mother and sister, about his accident, and yet she had shared nothing about herself.

Had she closed herself off from true intimacy? Was she cutting Gabe short because she really didn’t think they were right for each other or because vulnerability scared the shit out of her?

Clearing her throat, she took a chance. “My dad didn’t really have much time for me or either of my sisters when we were growing up. Not until Mom died just after my fifteenth birthday.”

Gabe’s hand stroked over her back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was just . . .” Caroline swallowed hard, trying to ease the emotional ball welling up in her throat. “Sudden. I mean, one minute we were chasing each other around the backyard and the next, she was on the ground.”

The memory still played out in her mind, clear as day, and she could remember the panic that engulfed her as she yelled for help. Kneeling down next to her mother’s body, she had grabbed her shoulders to shake her, pleading with her. “Ellie was screaming, and Val was . . . She just stood there like a statue. I had to call nine-one-one and take care of my sisters until they got our dad. It’s funny,” Caroline said, sniffling, “the police officer who notified my dad only told him there had been an accident, so he didn’t leave the office right away; he didn’t think it was an emergency.”

Gabe’s arms tightened around her, and he murmured into her hair, and she couldn’t deny how much she craved that. The understanding and the comfort. Snuggling into his chest, she continued. “The doctors said she’d had a heart murmur, but that it wasn’t life-threatening.” Laughing bitterly, she whispered, “I guess they were wrong about that, huh?”

“They make mistakes; they’re human,” Gabe said, rubbing her back. “Believe me, I cursed doctors for the longest time after what happened to Honey, but it didn’t do me any good to blame other people.”

“Instead, you continue to blame yourself,” Caroline said, looking up from his chest to meet his gaze. Gabe’s eyes shift

ed away, and she lifted her hand to touch his cheek. “Stop it.”

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