as her extremities turned a light blue, and her lips, anaesthetised with cold, couldn’t seem to stop moving.
‘I should have waited before acting when I realised Justin was involved in the smuggling. I should have spoken to you first. I betrayed our…’ What did they have…a relationship? A bond? A friendship? ‘I betrayed you. I’m so sorry, Clint.’
‘You owe me nothing, Romy. If anything I owe you.’ He shook his head. ‘You and Leighton have given me more than you’ll ever know these past months. You let me into your family for a little while and I’ll never forget that.’
You don’t have to forget it, she wanted to scream. Ask me and I’ll stay. With Justin gone, Leighton would be safe. She wanted them all to be safe. Together. She held her breath, waiting for the tiniest sign from the granite mountain beside her that he wanted her to stay. Wanted her. The night crickets and frogs chirped and croaked around them.
Endlessly.
Finally, her body forced her to breathe and the arctic inwards rush ached all the way to her soul as she realised—
He isn’t going to ask.
She felt a strange warmth on her cheek and realised that the warmest part of her slowly dying body was her tears.
Romy barely felt the steps under her numb feet as she climbed up to the house. The warmth of familiar safety soaked into her chilled bones. Clint carried Leighton upstairs to his attic and Romy slipped his little shoes and glasses off and pulled the thick quilt up over her half-frozen son.
Leighton’s soft hands came up to snag her sweater, pulling her closer. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I put you in danger.’
Oh, Lord…like father, like—
She realised the horrible mistake of her subconscious and shut the thought down. Clint McLeish was not her son’s father and never would be. After the dramas of the night were over they’d still be where they were at the beginning of it.
Two damaged people who couldn’t be together.
She took Leighton’s chin in her fingers and stared fiercely into his eyes, hoping the emotion of her response would disguise the true origin of the tears that suddenly pricked. ‘I would go into any danger for you, Leighton Carvell. Anywhere. Any time. Do you understand? That’s what people who love each other do. No matter what.’
He smiled shyly and buried himself in her shoulder again for a final hug. Then he looked up at Clint, still half asleep. Painfully innocent. ‘You came into danger for me, too, Clint.’
Romy’s heart haemorrhaged for the blatant hope in the guileless statement. Her son adored this man. Probably as much as she did.
Her chest squeezed. Oh, there were going to be two very sore hearts when this was all over.
Clint stared long and hard at Leighton, the muscles in his jaw working overtime. His mouth opened, then shut wordlessly. He looked at Romy, deep and pained, and then something in his eyes shifted. As though someone had lit a lamp in a dusty, disused room and revealed treasures beyond belief. They widened as she watched.
He shifted his attention back to the drowsy boy below him. ‘That’s because I love you, too, champ.’
Leighton abandoned his death grip on his mother and threw himself against Clint. It was exactly what she wanted to do, but fear kept her motionless. Clint kissed the top of Leighton’s shaggy head and then looked up at Romy.
She stared at Clint in taught agony and hissed, ‘That’s not something you say just because you think someone wants to hear it.’ She nodded towards Leighton. But she was talking about herself. ‘He’s eight years old, Clint.’
‘I know.’ He kissed Leighton’s head again. ‘I do love you, kiddo. I will be right by your mother’s side if you are ever in any kind of trouble and need me. Forever. I swear.’
Romy frowned her confusion through a pulsing headache. Right by her side. But that sounded decidedly not like forever.
It sounded like forever apart. ‘You can’t do this, Clint.’ The ache hummed in her whisper. ‘He won’t understand.’
‘He understands more than you know, Romy.’ He shifted his eyes to her as he spoke, thick and husky and pained. ‘I love you both. Very much. And whenever you need me, I will be there for you both. No matter where you are.’
The whole cottage lurched at her feet and her surging heart leapt painfully in her chest. She tipped her chin up and eye-balled him. Took a chance. The instinct to protect herself was almost overwhelming, but she forced the words from her cold lips. ‘Why? Where are you going?’
He frowned. ‘Nowhere. But after what I said earlier tonight…’
‘You still want us to leave?’
‘No! But—’
Her heart pounded. ‘You want us to stay, then?’
His blazing eyes said desperately, but his voice was less sure. ‘I’ve given up the right to hope for what I want.’
Thump, thump, thump. ‘What if I want it, too?’
Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath. Including Leighton. Romy stared into Clint’s green eyes. She’d never seen them so naked. So brave. In the space between one blink and the next, she decided it was time she demonstrated some of that McLeish courage.
Screw fear.
‘I want to stay.’ The words wobbled, then grew more sure. ‘With you.’
Nobody moved. Romy’s heart beat hard enough to bruise her ribs. Then Clint gifted her with a brilliant, unrestrained smile and she was lost. She launched herself forwards, finding Clint’s lips with her own across the top of a squashed Leighton.
‘I love you.’ Kiss. ‘I love you.’ Kiss. ‘I love you, Clint McLeish.’
He kissed her back as though she was the very air he breathed, his mouth hot and hard and so, so gentle. Then his hands came around the top of her body and dragged her half across to his side of Leighton’s bed. ‘I’ve loved you since the moment you handed me all the things you stole from my shop,’ he said, pressing his lips to her face, her hair, her mouth. She bit his bottom lip gently. Her voice was breathy, her laugh choked with tears.
‘I’ve loved you since you completely missed me stealing them.’
He opened his mouth to protest and Romy took the advantage, covering it with hers and diving her tongue in deep for a hint of the heaven she’d been dreaming of since the night of the fundraiser.
‘Eeeww, Mum.’ Leighton pushed ineffectually against Clint’s body. ‘Gross!’
Getting out of her child’s bedroom became a necessary priority. She needed to be alone with Clint. They tucked him back in hurriedly and then tiptoed down the stairs. Clint kept one hand on her the whole time. Her shoulder, her back, her nape, her hip.
When his hand slipped up higher than her
