“You’re her dad, Holden, of course we’re going to tell her.”
“I want to be her dad.”
“You are,” she said softly.
“No, Leigh-Leigh, I want to be her dad. I want to be the one to…fuck.” He stopped and cleared his throat again but it was a losing battle.
The emotion consumed him.
“Jesus, fuck!” he roared and wrapped his arms around Charleigh.
He held on as tight as he could, his Leigh-Leigh, his lifeline, was the only thing stopping him from coming apart.
“I wanted her. I wanted her to be mine. You and her were all I thought about. I was dying inside, every fucking day, I was dying thinking that motherfucker was her dad. It ate me up. Why didn’t I—”
“Stop, honey. No good comes from playing that game. We can both lie here and beat ourselves up for all the mistakes we made. Or we can decide right now to put it behind us and move forward. You wanted to fight, Holden, so now we fight for what should’ve been ours. And we do that by letting go of the past because we cannot change that, grab ahold of each other and get up.”
Holden took a breath so big it expanded his chest, and he held it until his lungs protested. Then he exhaled. He did it again and again until he could finally breathe easy. Clean. She was right. There was nothing he could do to change the past—but he could give them a future.
“Let’s get up, Leigh-Leigh,” he agreed.
Before he understood she meant “get up” in a literal way, she unwrapped herself and scrambled off the bed. Once she was on her feet, she held out her hand.
“Come on. I want to introduce you to your daughter.”
Jesus God.
His daughter.
Charleigh didn’t have to ask him twice.
Holden surged off his bed and she let out a squeak when he pulled her into his arms. Her head tipped back, probably to ask him what he was doing. Holden decided to show her. One hand stayed at her hip, the other glided up her back and his fingers curled around the nape of her neck. His mouth slammed down and he said everything he needed to say with a bruising kiss. Charleigh’s hands fisted the material of his tee, and he deepened the kiss, taking it from wet and rough to wild.
This is what forgiveness tastes like.
If he wanted to be the man Faith and Charleigh deserved, he had to forgive himself. He had to live in the now. He had to purge the hatred. And he would, he’d do any-fucking-thing for his girls.
When Charleigh moaned and pressed closer, Holden knew it was time to end the kiss. Satisfaction thrummed through him when she mewed and leaned forward, chasing his lips.
“Baby,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Hm?”
“We have to get out of here,” he said through a smile.
Charleigh pressed closer still, and that felt so damn good he warned, “Time to go.”
“What’s the rush?”
Holden flexed his hips and pushed his erection against her stomach but said nothing. He figured his hard-on said it all.
A sexy, sly smile played on her lips and his cock twitched. Her smile turned wicked.
“Still don’t see what the rush is.”
“How much time we got?”
“How much do you need?”
“Days.”
“Days?” she parroted.
“Days,” he confirmed. “Baby, I got a lot to be thankful for and I plan on expressin’ that gratitude with orgasms. In other words, I’m gonna take my time reminding you how much I love you. If you wanna start that now, take your clothes off and climb that fine ass into bed. But we’re not leaving until I’m convinced you understand the depth of my appreciation, and it might take me a while before I’m certain you know how grateful I am.”
“I don’t think we have days,” she conceded.
Unfortunately, they didn’t. But he’d arrange it so they did, and he’d do that quickly because he needed to show her he was indeed grateful she’d given him a second chance. And he’d do that in a way she’d never forget.
“Then cut me some slack and let’s go.”
“Slack?”
“Leigh-Leigh,” he groaned.
“Fine. Okay. But first I want to look around.”
“Later.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve never been inside your Airstream.”
Holden sighed and took a step away from her, which was more like a shuffle considering the space was tight.
“There’s not much to see.”
Charleigh turned and she took in his home.
“Did you do all the work?” she inquired.
“Yep. When I bought her, she was a mess. I gutted it and started from an empty hull.”
Nixon, Weston, and Chasin all thought he was crazy when he purchased a beat-up old trailer. Jameson got it—he, too, liked his solitude. Though Holden didn’t buy the Airstream for the reasons his teammates thought he did. It wasn’t an escape plan and it wasn’t so he’d have a place where he could ruminate his poor life choices. Holden bought it because he needed something to occupy his time. He’d needed a project that would keep him busy and his mind off Charleigh, Paul, and their child.
It had taken years to complete the renovations. Between training, work-ups, and deployments, he was gone more than he was home. But he’d put every waking moment into creating something that was just his.
Holden looked around. He’d opted to keep the classic shiny metal walls and ceiling instead of adding coverings. He’d built the kitchen cabinets out of pine and painted them white. They were topped with black granite, and stainless steel appliances finished the modern look. Holden had even framed in the custom loveseat. Though he hired an upholsterer to fashion the cushion covers. Next to that was a slab of wood he’d found at a sawmill. He’d sanded it smooth and given it several coats of lacquer; with all the natural light the table gleamed.
“All of it?” Charleigh asked.
“Everything you see, I built.”
“It’s beautiful, Holden. I’m totally impressed. I had no idea you could do…well, this.” She
