she reminded him.
“Damn straight, I did. You weren’t pregnant. You’d already handed me the ring—”
“You wouldn’t talk to me,” she said.
“You didn’t give me a chance to say anything and even if you had, what the hell could I say?” he countered. “It was done. The baby was gone and your ring was in my fist. What do you think I should have said, for God’s sake?”
“That you believed me.” That was the one thing that had always stung. He had known her better than anyone else—or so she had thought. And he’d taken the word of malicious gossips over her.
How was she supposed to forget that?
He scrubbed both hands across his face as memories crowded so close he could hardly draw a breath. The rumors had driven him crazy when he couldn’t get to her. At first, she was in the hospital and then when she was out, he was confined to the academy. Couldn’t even talk to her. Couldn’t look into her eyes and see for himself truth from lies. But by the time he finally reached her side, the crazy had taken over. The doubts. The disappointment and fury had him so tangled into knots it was all he could do to hold it together.
Hell, he prided himself on control. On being in charge of every damn thing around him. He had his own personal rules of conduct. And he’d blown them all on that long-ago night. Duty. Honor. They’d both gone out the window when anger made him blind to common sense.
Blowing out a breath, he stared up at the sky for a long minute, then lowered his gaze to hers. Doubts still gnawed at the edges of his heart, but being with her, looking into her eyes, clouded with hurt, he could see the truth that had eluded him for so long. “I do believe you.”
The moment he said it, he knew it was right. Back then, he’d been young and stupid. He’d wanted her to rush into his arms looking for comfort. He’d wanted her to cry and mourn their lost child so he would know that she hadn’t ended her pregnancy. Instead, she’d handed him the ring he’d given her and told him, more or less, to move on.
So his own self-assurance took a hit and then delivered one right back. Hurt, he’d made sure that she hurt, too. He wasn’t saying he was right. He was only saying—screw it.
A sheen of tears filmed the brilliant green of her eyes, but before he could panic or kick his own ass for making her cry, she blinked them back. She took a breath, steadied herself and said, “Thanks for that, anyway. Better late than never, huh?”
“I guess,” he said, but this conversation still felt unfinished.
She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder. “Now, I’ve got to go.”
“Damn it, Amanda—don’t walk away.”
“What else is there to talk about, Nathan? We’re over and done, and standing here in the park together is only going to fire up the gossip train you hate.”
True.
He did hate knowing that, but there didn’t seem to be much he could do about it. For days now, he’d lived with everyone in town watching his every move. With having people drop by the jailhouse for a “friendly chat” when what they were really looking for was more grist for the rumor mill. They wanted exclusive news about Nathan and Amanda so they could be the ones to spill the next part of the story.
Hell, he was actually getting used to it.
He’d come here today, knowing the gossips were chewing on them, knowing that meeting her like this would only make things worse. But this was his plan. Talk with her, bed her, then move on and—damn it—he was going to stick to it. It was a good plan, even if it had gotten more involved than he’d originally thought it would.
Nathan hadn’t meant to dig into the past. Hadn’t intended to throw up that night between them like a damn battle flag. He didn’t want her pissed—despite how good she looked when fire was in her eyes. He didn’t want her sad. Or resigned.
He wanted her hot and ready and as eager to be with him as he was to get his hands on her. But he couldn’t do that until he ended the war.
“You’re off tonight, right?”
“What?” She looked as surprised as he was over his blurted question.
Taking hold of her arm again, he drew her around to the far side of the old oak, using the tree to block most people’s views of them.
“Let go, Nathan.”
He did, though his fingers still felt the warmth of her skin long after he drew his hand back. Through the years, through the old pain and shared memories, the heat between them lingered. He was more convinced than ever that he was doing the right thing. Get her back into bed, feel the burn again so that he could finally let it—and her—go.
“We need some time, Amanda,” he said, keeping his gaze locked with hers. “Time to talk. To find a way to be in this town together.”
She was shaking her head so he talked faster, refusing to give her enough room to back away. “Come out with me tonight. We’ll have dinner—and time.”
“I don’t know.…”
Confusion etched itself onto her features. He could see her weighing her decision, so he gave her a little push. “Not afraid to be alone with me, are you?”
It worked.
Her head snapped up and she snorted. “Afraid? Please.”
He grinned. “Then it’s settled.”
“Fine.” She nodded at him. “Where do you want to meet?”
“I’ll pick you up at your place about seven.”
She laughed a little uneasily. “This is Saturday. Everyone for miles around will be in town. You’re not worried about how many people will see us together?”
He glanced up at the crowd milling around the park before looking back to her. What was the point of hiding now? They were already the center of every conversation in town. No sense trying to fight it. “They’re already talking, remember? Besides, damned if I’m going to sneak around.”
She nodded. “Good point.”
“All right, then. See you at seven.”
Over at the diner, Pam leaned on the counter and tapped her fingernails against it in a sharp staccato. “People have been talking about them all day.”
“You shouldn’t be listening.”
“How can I not?” She shook her head and gave a quick look around at the people sitting at the booths and counters. Peggy, the other waitress on duty, was laughing with her customers and in the kitchen behind her, Pam could hear the cooks talking while they worked. The diner was busy and that was a good thing. The fact that it was all because of Amanda made it harder to appreciate.
“She’s been back home for a couple of weeks and she’s taking over again.”
She looked at the man sitting in front of her. JT McKenna had been her
