Up in Flames (Rosemary Beach 13)

No, we didn’t. His thoughts were pure and big-hearted like his parents’. He loved with everything he had. He accepted the faults in others and didn’t hold grudges. “That’s the best compliment I can ever be given,” I told him.

He scrunched his nose. “What’s a com-plee-uh-mint?”

A laugh escaped me, and I felt warm inside.

When I got back to the car after dropping Nate off at home, I took the envelope I’d tucked under my seat away from Nate’s curious hands and opened it.

Attitude. Another thing that makes you beautiful.

I reread it three times before tucking it into my purse and heading home.

Pink, purple, cream, blue, and mint green. Five envelopes that had slowly gotten to my heart. I wasn’t saying I loved Major. I just loved his words. The thought behind each note. They were simple. Paper with words written on them. They had been free. No money spent yet more meaningful than any gift I had received, because they made me feel like maybe I was worth more. Maybe I was enough. Maybe I could be loved.

Not once had a note said I was beautiful because of my outward appearance, except, of course, for the clothing comment. But still, it had been more about my choice in clothing, not what my face or body looked like.

It was time I spoke to Major instead of screaming at him. This was what he should have started with, not those ridiculous roses. This took thought and emotion. If he’d done this the day I’d returned, we might be together now.

An image of Gannon flashed in my head, and I winced from the pain in my chest. No . . . this wasn’t enough to make that pain go away. He hadn’t called or texted. He hadn’t reached out to explain. He had done nothing to stop me from running that day. Even knowing the truth about him, I wanted him to try to see me. I wanted him to fight for me. For Gannon, I wanted to be enough.

Only a few short weeks ago, I’d wanted to be enough for Major, and how quickly that had changed. Too little too late, they said. Unless I could teach my heart to let go of what I couldn’t have and embrace what wanted me. If I could just try with Major, then the pain from the memory of Gannon and what could have been would disappear.

I hoped.

Major

When my phone vibrated, I wanted to toss it across the room. If only I could slam it into Cope’s smug face. God, that man was driving me nuts. I wasn’t even awake yet, and he was sending orders.

Jerking the phone toward my face, I rubbed my eyes and read the text.

I’m ready to listen. It wasn’t Cope. It was Nan.

Holy fuck! The mystery envelopes had worked! Hot damn!

I tossed back the covers and jumped out of bed, then realized I should call Cope. Dialing his number, I stumbled toward the bathroom, still groggy from sleep.

“She’s ready” was his greeting. How the fuck did he know that?

“Yeah,” I replied, hating how he had taken the wind out of my sails.

“Give her the yellow one today. Then treat her right.” The call ended with a click, and I stood there wondering why I’d even bothered to call the man. He knew everything. I hated the bastard.

Nan

I wanted to ask Major questions about how he had treated me before and what had made him decide he wanted me now. Was it the fact that I was unattainable and he liked a challenge? Now that the challenge was over, would this all end? Should I open my heart up to him again? Could I even do that? Was my heart changed too much now? Maybe we could really just be friends.

I was ready to talk to him. I needed closure, if nothing else. My head and my heart were confused.

The doorbell rang, and I set my glass of orange juice down and went to open the door. Major stood there looking as beautiful as he always did. The face of a model, and he knew it. He worked it. Once that had been all I thought I needed. Now I realized I required much more.

“Hey,” I said, stepping back. “Come in.” I noticed a yellow envelope in his hand, and my chest squeezed. Even if I didn’t want Major, I wanted those words. I needed them.

“I’m glad you texted,” he said, looking at me sincerely. His heart was in his eyes, and he looked like he meant it.

Nothing stirred in me but a sadness that my feelings for him might have changed so much. That he might have killed anything there, and I wouldn’t be able to get it back. Even now, when I wanted to, I couldn’t even force myself to believe it. “The notes. I want to understand their purpose. But first, are you thirsty? Can I get you a drink?”

He looked nervous and uncomfortable now. His eyes darted in the direction of the kitchen. “Yeah, uh, I’d love some water.”

He was stalling. Interesting.

I led the way and took my time fixing him a tall glass of ice water, and then I looked pointedly at the yellow envelope in his hand. “You brought another one with you today.”

He looked down at it as if he had forgotten it was there. He nodded slowly before lifting his gaze back to me. “Open it,” he said, handing it to me.

I took the envelope, anxious to read the words he’d written this time. What else about me did he find beautiful? Those small notes meant so much that even though I didn’t love him, I cared for him simply because he took the time to think about them and write them down.

Slipping out the piece of stationery that I now knew like the texture of my own skin, I read:

Graceful, equine movements. Another thing that makes you beautiful.

I had to read that one several times before I understood what he was saying. I never knew Major to use such eloquent wording to describe anything. It was almost as if these weren’t his own words. Like he’d taken them from someone else.