The darkness. No, not just darkness. The hall closet. Hidden behind the coats. Screaming. Crying. Her mother.

Her mother had been crying. The woman in the dream was her mother.

Breaths coming rapidly now, Elsie nodded. “It fits.” She swallowed hard against the emotion building, tears threatening to fall even as her throat stung. “I think someone wanted to get rid of me—murder me—” she stumbled over the word again “—because the flashback...there’s more to it and...I think they killed my mother and...I was there.”

“Oh, Elsie.”

He reached for her and Elsie was surprised at how easy and natural it felt to be in his arms. The longer he held her, the more she felt herself relaxing into him and the more what had started as a hug of reassurance moved, at least for her, into a deep awareness of how close she was to Wyatt.

And how much it could take her mind off even the darkest elements of her past.

He pulled away, his face a muddle of emotion.

It was a lot to take in, Elsie realized, even for someone who, well, wasn’t her. Wyatt looked stunned, and she’d, of course, not delivered any of those thoughts as graciously as she could have because she was still stumbling through explanations and guesses herself.

“Even reading this...” He trailed off as he waved the packet she’d handed him about her rescue. “And you saying you didn’t think anyone wanted you...”

“When I was a kid,” she felt the need to clarify, as she definitely didn’t need his pity.

But he was already shaking his head. “You act that way now, living out here without people nearby, refusing the help of law enforcement that first night. Refusing my help initially.”

“Really? I’m the one who lives like they’re not wanted?” Elsie said defensively.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Wyatt’s voice was calm, so calm. Low. Serious.

“Maybe it’s good that you’re not a player anymore, but now you act like...like...like no one would want you.”

“That’s completely different.”

“How?”

“’Cause I’m not you. You’re different. You deserve better.”

“And you don’t?”

They were facing each other now, sitting on the floor.

“We aren’t talking about me.”

“Maybe not then, but we are now.” She’d told herself she wouldn’t be so bold again, not after how awkward that last conversation had been, but something had snapped inside her when he’d shown such care and concern, trying to convince her she wasn’t unwanted. As though that wasn’t just the most ironic thing she’d ever heard.

His eyes were fixed on hers, and he was sitting inches away. She had the sudden desire to...to reach over and pull him closer...maybe to kiss him.

Yes. That was exactly what she wanted, if she was honest with herself. For days she had watched as he proved he had changed.

She believed in that change, but he didn’t. He didn’t see himself the way she did.

Wyatt Chandler was never going to start something with her. Earlier she’d have said it was because he didn’t want that, and now...

Maybe it was because he felt like he didn’t deserve it. Or maybe he was just scared.

Either way, Elsie could control very little in her life right now. But she could control this.

Before she could stop herself, she moved closer, her breaths growing shallower the closer she came, her lips parting, eyes flicking to his mouth. Then his eyes.

He knew what she was doing.

He didn’t stop her.

The whisper-soft brush of Elsie’s lips across his, followed by a second kiss with more intensity but not less gentleness, didn’t catch Wyatt off guard, but nor would he say he was prepared for it.

This was what he’d wanted for days, what he’d tried to stop himself from dreaming about since he started to see Elsie differently. Wyatt didn’t know why he hadn’t paid attention to Lindsay’s friend back then, but he’d noticed now.

Just as slowly as she’d begun it, she ended the kiss, pulling back just enough that they weren’t touching, but lingering close to him for a moment longer. He could freeze time right there. Forget about finding redemption and proving himself. Forget about murder investigations and stalkers.

“Wyatt?”

Her voice was soft and hesitant. Much more hesitant than her kiss, which had been confident. Unwavering.

“Yeah?”

“Are you sorry I kissed you?”

She was so honest, so willing to drag conversations into the light. She was missing the self-protective instinct to hide her feelings, or maybe she simply didn’t play games.

All Wyatt had done as a kid was play games.

He wanted to be different now. Wasn’t completely sure if he knew how.

Help me, God, he prayed, meaning it as much as he’d ever meant any prayer. He couldn’t return her honesty with anything but the same.

“No, Elsie. I’m not sorry.” He should be. Shouldn’t he?

Shame. Guilt. Peace. Forgiveness.

He was overwhelmed.

“I just...” He moved back slightly, ran a hand through his hair. “I need a second.”

She backed up. “Take a second. It’s fine. As many seconds as you need.”

Was it hot inside her cabin? Wyatt needed space. Air. Away from Elsie, even though at the moment all he could think of was how he wanted to pull her back toward him, kiss her until he forgot all about who he used to be and until she knew how much he cared about her.

But wouldn’t that make him who he used to be?

“I need... I’m just going to step out...” He stood, moved toward the door. “Just for a second.”

Her eyes were wide. Clear. Questioning, maybe. He hated that she wondered how he was feeling right now, but as much as he’d like to reassure her, he was so entirely overwhelmed that he couldn’t put any of it into words. “Lock the door behind me.”