CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR #4
Charley smiled. “I’ll have to thank her for doing that. My aunt and uncle worry about me like it’s a full-time job.”
Pierce’s mouth curved. “Good. Because I was starting to think I was the only one.”
Charley gave him a look. “Oh, you’re not.” She smiled. “So, how did introductions go between you and them?” she asked.
Pierce chuckled. “I think they went okay. I mean, I barely got two words out, and your aunt was already hugging me.”
Charley laughed. “My aunt hugs everyone. But I’m sure they both like you,” Charley told him.
Pierce lifted a brow. “You sure? Because your uncle has the ‘I will bury you in the backyard’ face.”
Charley laughed again, then sobered. “He would never do that. Not unless you hurt me.”
Pierce held her gaze. “Then I’m fine.”
Something warm and steady settled in her chest at his words.
Pierce tilted his head toward the door. “Also… your aunt brought a giant pot of tomato soup. And she and Jessica are making grilled cheese.”
Charley’s stomach growled right on cue, loud enough that she froze.
Pierce’s eyes flicked down to her midsection, amused. “Case in point.”
Charley’s cheeks heated. “Okay, rude. Apparently, my body has decided food is the priority now. I’m starving,” she admitted.
Pierce stood and offered his hand to help her up. Charley took it, letting him pull her to her feet. They started toward the door, but Charley stopped him with a gentle tug. It was like deja vu.
Pierce turned back, surprised, and Charley stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing her cheek against his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered again, voice softer this time. “For all of it. For being exactly where I needed you today.”
Pierce’s arms came around her immediately, holding her close. His chin rested lightly on the top of her head. “I’ll always be here for you,” he murmured.
Charley leaned back just enough to look up at him, her heart full and aching at the same time. She rose on her toes and kissed him. A small and sweet kiss.
Pierce kissed her back softly.
When they separated, he brushed his thumb along her cheek. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you fed.”
Charley nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “Okay.”
He opened the door, and they stepped out into the hallway together, heading toward the kitchen.
Charley followed Pierce down the hallway toward the kitchen, her fingers still tingling from the way he’d held her hand, kissed her like she was something precious instead of something fragile. The closer they got to the voices, the more her nerves returned.
The second she stepped into the kitchen, and her eyes landed on her aunt and uncle, Charley felt her tears return. For a quick moment, she didn’t move at all. Like her brain couldn’t accept what it was seeing. Then her mouth parted slightly, and her voice came out in a small voice.
“Aunt Bea…”
Her aunt didn’t hesitate. She crossed the kitchen in three quick steps and wrapped Charley up in a tight hug. Bea’s hands cupped the back of her head, holding her there as if she could shield her from everything by sheer will alone.
“Oh, baby,” Bea whispered, voice already cracking. “Oh, Charley, we came as fast as we could.”
Charley tried to speak. She really did.
But her throat tightened, her eyes burned, and the tears came anyway—hot and relentless. At least it wasn’t the messy, panicked sobbing from earlier.
“I’m okay,” she managed, the words muffled against Bea’s shoulder. It was a lie, and they both knew it.
Bea pulled back just enough to look at her face, her eyes glossy. “You don’t have to be okay,” she said firmly, wiping Charley’s cheeks with both hands like she couldn’t stand the sight of tears there. “Not after what you’ve been through.”
Charley’s lips trembled. “I don’t want you to worry.”
Bea gave her a look so purely Bea it almost made Charley laugh through her tears. “Sweetheart, that ship sailed the day you were born.”
Charley let out a shaky, breathy sound that might’ve been a laugh if it wasn’t tangled up in emotion. “Fair.”
Behind Bea, Glen stood still for a moment, his expression locked down, but his eyes were sharp and pained as they took Charley in, especially when he saw the bandage on her arm.
He didn’t rush in the way Bea did. But he moved forward slowly, deliberately, and when Bea finally loosened her hold, he stepped into Charley’s space with the quiet gravity of a man who had been trained to keep his emotions under control even when they were cutting him open.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said, voice rough.
Charley’s throat tightened again. “Hey.”
He reached up and cupped her cheek as if making sure she was really standing there. Then he pulled her gently into a big hug. The kind of hug that said I’m here. I’ve got you. It reminded her of the type of hug Pierce would give her sometimes.
Charley closed her eyes and let herself lean into it.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his shoulder, the apology automatic, born from years of trying not to be a burden.
Glen made a quiet sound—half sigh, half growl. “Don’t.”
Charley blinked. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t apologize for surviving.” He pulled back enough to look at her, his eyes shining in a way he probably hated. “You scared the hell out of us.”
“I know,” she admitted softly.
“And you’re not doing this alone,” he said, the words clipped, like an order. “You hear me?”
Charley grinned. “I hear you.”
Jessica’s voice cut in smoothly from the stove. “Food is ready,” she announced.
Bea guided Charley toward the table and pressed her into a chair like she had decided sitting was non-negotiable.
Glen took the seat beside her, angled slightly so he could keep watching her face without making it obvious.
Pierce sat on her other side, close enough that his knee brushed hers under the table.
Ray and Jessica moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, sliding bowls and plates into place.
The guys helped too—Cole grabbed cups, Zane moved napkins, Seth set the grilled cheese platter down like it was a mission-critical delivery.
Charley stared at the food for a moment like she couldn’t quite believe normal things existed after everything that had happened.
Her stomach growled again, and this time she didn’t feel embarrassed. She felt grateful.
Bea reached over and squeezed her hand. “Eat,” she said softly. “You need it.”
Charley nodded and picked up her spoon, the metal warm between her fingers. The first bite was almost painful—her throat tight, her body still half in shock—but the heat spread through her chest and settled something inside her.
Pierce’s hand found her knee under the table and squeezed gently. Charley turned her head and looked at him, her eyes full of gratitude and fear and exhaustion all at once.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Because Pierce’s gaze held hers, and in that look was the promise he’d already made her in the Jeep, in his bedroom, in every quiet touch tonight.
You’re not alone.
◆◆◆
Later, after dinner, as everyone was helping clean up, Glen motioned with his head for Pierce to follow him out back.
Pierce kissed Charley’s cheek and told her that he would be right back.
He stepped out onto the porch and met Glen near the railing. Pierce could tell that Charley’s uncle was not handling her situation well.
Glen finally spoke without looking at him. “You’re doing right by her.”
It hit Pierce harder than he expected. Because it wasn’t casual approval. It was something earned.
Pierce cleared his throat. “I’m trying.”
Glen nodded once. “I can see that.”
Silence stretched between them for a few moments.
Then Glen turned his head and looked Pierce straight in the eye. “I know that we spoke briefly earlier. But I need to know what kind of man you are,” he said plainly. “Not your rank. Not your job. Not your reputation. You.”
Pierce didn’t blink. “Okay.”
Glen’s jaw worked once, like he was holding back a lot and trying to choose what mattered most. “Charley has survived a lot,” he said, voice roughening around the edges.
“More than she should have ever had to. And she’s learned to keep moving even when she’s bleeding inside.
She smiles. She makes jokes. She’ll tell you she’s fine while she’s coming apart. ”
Pierce’s chest tightened. He had seen pieces of that already. She would try to lighten the moment before it got too heavy, the way she apologized for crying, as if it were an inconvenience to the room.
Glen continued, quieter now. “When she gets scared, she goes quiet. Not because she doesn’t trust you. Not because she doesn’t care.” His eyes sharpened. “Because she thinks if she lets people see how bad it is, she’ll be a burden.”
Pierce swallowed. “Yeah.”
“And she’ll try to handle it alone,” Glen added. “Because she had to. After her dad… after her brother… she learned early that if she didn’t keep herself together, nobody else was going to do it for her.”
The words landed like a weight.
Pierce stared out into the dark for a second, jaw clenched hard enough to ache. “I’m not letting her do that this time.”
Glen studied him. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
Pierce turned slightly, facing him more fully.
“She doesn’t have to be tough with me,” Pierce said, his voice low but firm.
“I don’t need her to perform okay-ness. If she wants to sit in silence, I’ll sit with her.
If she wants to talk, I’ll listen. If she wants to fall apart, she can do it right in front of me, and I will hold her while she does it. ”
A muscle jumped in Glen’s cheek, and Pierce could tell it meant something to him even if he didn’t show it.
Glen’s eyes flicked toward the window where Charley stood inside with her aunt, laughing at something.