Nerves coiled in her belly, coming from the knowledge that she wasn’t in any shape to deal with this. “Okay, now you’re scaring me. Do you want me to get someone? Sasha, maybe?”
“I don’t need a healer. I need you to listen. You said you owe me, but what happened today doesn’t even begin to balance things between us.” And the look in his eyes said he wasn’t talking about the here and now anymore.
Oh, no. Please don’t go there. Face flaming with a blush that pulsed higher with each beat of her thudding heart, she said, “We said we were going to move forward and not worry about the past, remember? A deal’s a deal.”
But he shook his head. “The deal was a bad idea. And I’m the one who owes an apology.”
“I don’t want…” She trailed off when her throat tightened and her eyes prickled with the threat of tears. “Damn it.”
He shifted as if to go to her, but then settled back and offered a hand, eyes darkening with remorse. “Shit, Cara. Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not. I won’t.” She waved him off. “Give me a second here.” Because the thing was, she did want an apology; she always had. She’d just taught herself not to wish for things that weren’t likely to happen. And now… damn it, she was tired, her defenses low. Swiping at her eyes, she fixed him with a watery glare. “Do me a favor? Don’t do this unless you really mean it.” Because as much as she didn’t want it to matter anymore, it did.
“I mean it, I swear.” His words were low and fervent, and carried the force of a blood oath. “I’m sorry, Cara, for all of it. I get it now. I see how I fucked things up, not just with you, but with Carlos too, creating this sort of three-way mess labeled ‘shit we don’t talk about.’”
Her head spun and her feet felt far, far away from the rest of her, putting her into a very unreal this-isn’t-happening sort of place. But maybe after all these years it was happening. Maybe he was finally turning into the better man Carlos had always said he could be. “It hurt him badly when you left, you know.”
“I know. I was going to go see him first, but…”
Her lips twisted on a strange-feeling smile. “I blew the script.”
“Yeah. So I’ll start with the things I need to say to you, instead.” He reached out and took her hand, tugging her closer. The warmth of his skin and the solidity of his grip steadied her, bringing her back to reality as he said, “I’m sorry about what happened that day in the barn, Cara. I should’ve seen it coming, and I should’ve handled it better.”
Reality screeched to a halt around her. Wait. What?
She frowned. “I don’t—”
“When you kissed me, my mind… I don’t know, it blanked. Shock, I guess.” His thumb rubbed across her knuckles as his tired-looking eyes softened. “But that’s no excuse for breaking your heart and then not saying I’m sorry. And I am. I’m just…”
“Sorry,” she said dully.
He exhaled. “Yeah.”
“You sure are.” She wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or kick him someplace extremely tender. Really, though, she was the one who deserved a swift kick, because for a minute or so there, she had actually thought he might have changed. And maybe he had, but only a little bit. Only enough to see that he’d played a major role in cracking her family apart, not enough to see that it had been his disappearing act that had done the damage. Instead, he was blaming it on a kiss. One that, although she hadn’t consciously remembered it in years, was suddenly there, front and center in her mind.
She was seventeen again, racing for the back barn and bubbling inwardly with the familiar refrain of “Sven’s home, yippee!”
The barn was cool with shade and smelled of first-cutting hay, forming a perfect backdrop for the sight of the glossy bay gelding craning around to nudge Sven, who stood at his shoulder, adjusting tack.
Cara stopped just inside the door and let herself stare.
He had his back to her and seemed bigger than he had even a few weeks ago, when he’d come home after his final exams, stayed a few days, and then headed off on a road trip with friends. Now, though, he had changed out of his college clothes—designer jeans and T-shirts advertising places she probably wouldn’t ever visit—and into real jeans and a smoky blue, long-sleeved button-down that she and her mom had gotten him because it matched his eyes. Not that he would care about the eye thing. He was a guy, after all, and guys didn’t notice stuff like that—or at least not the guys she knew.
Then again, Sven was nothing like those guys. They were goofy and immature, clowning around and trying to impress her and the other girls with their stupid stunts and lame-o jokes. Sven, though… from the moment he’d come back to the ranch this time around, she had seen right away how he was different, how he was bigger, stronger, smarter, just better than them, just like her father had always said. He was way cuter than the other boys too, with his stubby pirate’s ponytail and the easy grin that said he was good with life and life was good with him. More, there was a vibe of power around him, offset by the gentleness he showed as he stroked the bay’s nose, talking softly.
He’d always had a way with animals. Her father had called it a gift and grinned when he said it; he’d tried to get Sven interested in training the ranch dogs with him, and then the horses. Sven hadn’t stuck with either for long, far preferring machines that went fast and far, but he still rode now and then, sometimes loading up with enough gear to spend weeks out in the backcountry… which, she realized with a jolt, was exactly what the bay was wearing now.
“No!” The soft cry was out before she could call it back.
The gelding snorted as Sven whipped around. His eyes narrowed when he saw her standing there. “I thought you went into town with your mom.”
She sauntered across the packed-dirt floor, using the walk she and a couple of friends had practiced, the one that always got her asked to dance. When she was close enough to inhale the scents of horse and leather, and the hint of his college cologne being overridden by her mom’s laundry detergent, she planted her boots on the ground and her hands on her hips. “You were going to take off without even saying hello?”
“I’ll be back in a few days.”
“Bull. You’ve packed enough for a week. Longer if you’re planning on hunting.” And the scabbarded rifle said that was a good bet. Reaching out, she caught his hand and gave it a tug. “Stay. Please. It would mean a lot to Mom.”
“Just her?” Suddenly he was looking at her with a strange new intensity.
A hot flush climbed her face, though she wasn’t really sure why. “Of course not. I want you to stay too. And Dad—”
“I’ve already talked to him.” He turned away from her and pretended to adjust his rigging.
Of course he’d checked in, and of course her dad had told him it was cool if he took off. What else did she expect? The two of them were thick as thieves. She didn’t even bother being annoyed anymore; she was just grateful that she had her mother… who didn’t look right, wasn’t acting like herself, and had a doctor’s appointment for next week, though she’d sworn Cara to secrecy. Which was why she didn’t dare use it to convince Sven to stick around. Having him in the house, though, would put a gleam in her mom’s eyes.
She reached out, hesitated, and then touched his back, first lightly and then harder, splaying her fingers wide to cover the firm muscles beside his spine and absorb the warmth coming through his shirt. He stiffened but didn’t turn, and she pressed her cheek to her hand, so she was leaning into him, against him, as she had done when they were younger, before her father had started keeping Sven to himself as much as possible. “Stay,” she whispered, aware that he’d frozen in place and the only sound was the jingle of the bay gelding mouthing his bit, impatient to be off.