he wanted to understand Charlie.
He thought about all the times when his parents or siblings had been there for him and tried to imagine what it would have been like to navigate those moments alone. He thought about the Christmases and birthdays, the family holidays, the shared memories, the in-jokes, the love.
Charlie had had none of that. She’d been so starved of affection that she’d joined the army in an attempt to win her father’s approval. Rhys had a vision of her enduring the hell of recruit training, gritting her teeth and telling herself that it would be worth it, that she had to make it through so as not to disappoint her father. Then, after a while, understanding there was nothing she could do to bridge the gap between them.
What had she called it that night when he’d asked about her father? Unfinished business. A relationship that had never given her what she wanted. What she needed.
Was it any wonder that Charlie was slow to trust, slow to reveal herself? Was it any wonder that she always held something in reserve? She’d had no experience of trust, and Rhys suspected she hadn’t had nearly enough love in her life.
His arms tightened around her and she stirred against him. He fought the need to pull her closer again, to kiss her and come inside her and show her that she was valued and beautiful and loved.
Because he’d loved her for a while now. He hadn’t admitted it to himself until he’d seen the hurt in her eyes yesterday afternoon and known that he was responsible and understood that she was the last person he ever wanted to hurt or harm.
He’d fallen for her in slow degrees, seduced by her quiet humor and quick tongue and intelligence and sexy, slender body. She had more integrity in her little finger than most people had in their whole body. And she had courage and determination by the bucketful.
He wanted to be a part of her life. He wanted to earn her trust. He wanted to make her happy.
Resolve hardened inside him. He’d told Charlie that he hadn’t planned for her advent in his life. It was true, but he would plan for her now. He would do his damnedest to get her to drop her guard. He would chip away at her reserve until she let him in.
He would love her until she let herself love him back. If it was his life’s work, he would do it.
Charlie stirred again, and this time he gave in to need and ran a hand over her, cupping a breast. He was painfully aroused, craving connection with her, and he waited only until she’d blinked open her eyes and smiled before kissing her and rolling on top of her. They made slow, intense love in the morning sunlight. He told her with his body all the things he knew she wasn’t ready to hear yet and told himself that there would come a day—soon, he hoped—when he would say it all out loud.
They showered together, and then he took Charlie out for breakfast before taking her to the comic-book exhibition. They walked hand in hand from one display to the next and he watched her face light up as she found old favorites or discovered a much-longed-for rarity.
“Tell me if I’m talking too much,” she said as they moved from one superhero section to the next.
“I will. You’re not even close.”
She smiled her slow, shy smile and he used their joined hands to pull her close and kiss her. She tasted like the cinnamon-ginger pikelets she’d eaten for breakfast and he made an approving sound and deepened the kiss.
Charlie drew back, her cheeks red. “Rhys,” she said, her eyes darting first left, then right.
“This is the modern-art gallery. Kissing is not only acceptable, it’s encouraged.”
She laughed, even as she shook her head at him and told him he was incorrigible. When she started to fade midafternoon he insisted on taking her home so she could catch up on the sleep they’d lost last night. They lay on top of the quilt fully clothed and dutifully closed their eyes, but after twenty minutes Charlie asked if he was still awake and when he confirmed he was, they wound up peeling each other’s clothes off and fooling around until they both drifted into exhausted, sated sleep.
It was eight at night when they woke again. Charlie made them a quick dinner and they sat on the sofa, arms and