“Lane, I want you to know that I’m not here to hurt you or Noah.” His fingers traced the outer edge of her hand, sending a surge of nervous energy pulsing through her. “When I left the Marines and moved to Walton, I knew what I wanted.” He wrapped her hand in his, cocooning it in gentle strength. “I know you’ve lost love and I know I will never replace that, but I’m asking if there’s a chance that I can be the one to offer it to you again.”

Melting. It was the only way Lane could describe what was going on inside her. Charlie was melting her defenses with his kindness and compassion, and it didn’t hurt that on this lazy summer night the heartbeat of attraction was pounding louder than her inhibitions. Louder than her fear.

“All I’m asking is that you think about it. There’s no rush and I’m not going anywhere.” Charlie brushed a piece of hair from her face. He drew her closer to him. “Now, Ms. Lane Kent, may I have this dance?”

Lane swallowed, trying to bring some moisture back to her mouth to answer. She couldn’t, so she nodded. Charlie’s hand found the curve of her back and her breath caught in her throat as his strong arms guided their bodies to the slow rhythm of the music. It took a few seconds before she allowed herself to relax.

Live in the moment.

It all came back to her. The flood of emotions and feelings she had long since shoved away returned with a force so strong it weakened her knees. She missed this. Being in someone’s arms. Feeling special. Wanted. The world around them disappeared and for the first time in too long, Lane felt peace.

FOURTEEN

THE POUNDING ON THE DOOR rattled Miguel from sleep. He blinked a few times to gather his bearings. The dome of light from his bathroom cast a yellow glow into the living room. It was still dark. Maybe the pounding was a dream.

“Miguel!” a voice from outside called.

He cringed as he pushed himself off the couch. A few of the scabs on his hand split open. He grabbed a rag from the floor and wrapped his wound.

“Miguel!” The pounding continued. Leaving the lights off, Miguel twisted the bolt and opened the door.

“It took you long enough.” Dark eyes glared at him. “I’ve been standing out here with the cockroaches for twenty minutes.”

The woman was cast beneath the shadows and Miguel could only make out the sharp features of her face. A fearful recognition brought a chill to his skin. “It’s late.”

“Of course it’s late.” She peered into the house. “Why are the lights off?”

“I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to drive all the way down here. Where is the light switch?”