Page 112 of Karma

“And while you were driving here and seeing Brian, I went to the cemetery and made my peace with Stuart Rossman and my past.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. He’d never forget what happened, but it was time he let go of that anger. “I might see the department shrink if I ever feel that dark place threatening. But I won’t blame you ever again. I won’t leave you ever again.”

She hiccupped in his arms, and he grinned, then tipped her chin upward and brushed his lips over hers. “I know you don’t trust people. And I realize you don’t believe anyone in your life will stick around, but I’m asking you to trust me.”

Liza’s heart beat hard against his chest. While he waited for an answer, he inhaled and took in her intoxicating scent, drawing strength from the fact that she hadn’t pulled away.

“You’re right. I don’t trust. Experience has taught me otherwise. And I realize now part of the reason I began the relationship with Timothy back in college was because his possessiveness made me think he loved me. And when that went bad, I cut off any and all relationships except the casual ones.” She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek in her palm. “Until you.”

“I can be pretty charming when I want to be.”

He winked at her, and she groaned. “You’re a bulldozer,” she said with a light laugh. “But that charm of yours was hiding as much pain as I had inside.”

“You’re the only person who’s figured that out about me.” Another reason they were a perfect fit. But she hadn’t accepted his declaration.

And he wasn’t having it. “So? Where do we stand? Are you going to make me buy a condo and live alone, wishing I hadn’t made all those mistakes? Or are you going to—”

“I love you too, Dare Barron.” She kissed him then, hard, fast, and all too briefly. “When I walked out of my brother’s room, I promised myself if he could find the strength to go forward, then so could I. But I couldn’t let myself believe in us. I thought you helped Brian because that’s what you do. Help people.”

He shook his head. “The only person I want to think or worry about right now is you. I love you, baby, and I will never hurt you that way again.”

She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m going to hold you to that, you know.”

“I should hope so.”

“Know what I want to do now?” she asked.

“Tell me.” He’d give her anything she wanted and more.

Her smile lit up everything inside him.

“I want to drive home, crawl into bed, and sleep for a good long while.”

He chuckled at the simple request. “Sounds good to me. As long as I’m in that bed with you.”

“Come home with me,” she murmured. “Move into my house and forget about looking for a place to live.” She stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Only because you asked so nicely…”

She laughed and kissed him, clinging to him for so long, he wondered if they’d ever make it to their cars for the trip back to Serendipity.

Not that he cared. As long as he was with Liza, Dare would be happy anywhere.

Epilogue

Labor Day weekend

The house onthe hill provided the setting for the biggest fundraiser Serendipity had ever seen. Faith’s wishes prevailed, and once the town got wind of the fact that the youth center would be the recipient of the money raised, everyone from every class turned out for the event. It helped that the fundraising committee insisted on lowering the price for attending since they had saved money up front by not having to rent space for the event.

God, Ethan adored his wife and her brilliant ideas. And the rest of his family wasn’t too bad either, he thought with not the smallest amount of pride.

The house that just one year ago left him empty and cold was now filled with people. And though he didn’t want to host this event, Faith was beaming—and that made it all worthwhile.

As if he sensed her, Ethan turned to see his wife gliding down the circular stairs. She wore a royal blue Grecian-styled gown held over one shoulder with a silver clip. The cut of the gown draped over her softly rounded belly, not hiding yet not showing off her pregnancy. Just a little over three months, they’d told family a few days ago, and no one else.

Tonight they’d decided to make it public.