It was lists of names of guys I knew in Thatch. Guys I worked with at Mama’s. Guys that I knew for sure had come into Mama’s the days the notebook had been passed back and forth between Stranger and me. Guys that could have possibly been Stranger.

Nearly all of them were crossed out. Deacon’s included.

Graham’s name was circled a few times with question marks following it.

On the very top of the page was a note in a messy scrawl I had memorized, and knew as well as my own. A note that hadn’t been there before.

Words . . . I told you I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to walk away from you. Turns out I was only able to after you broke my heart and I tore out the pieces to leave with you. Hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done. Second hardest was staying away. . .

A shiver moved slowly down my spine when I heard my bedroom door softly click shut, but I didn’t take my eyes off the note when I felt him move toward me.

“You aren’t supposed to sweep me off my feet, Stranger,” I whispered.

“Third hardest,” he began in a low, rumbling voice, and stepped up behind me. “Not being able to stop myself from telling Keith that I love him after seeing him for the first time in four weeks—”

My chest hitched with a silent sob. One of my hands covered my mouth while the other pressed firmly against the bed to help me stay standing.

“—and realizing that I might not ever get the chance to tell you that I love you.”

Deacon’s large hands slid around my waist and shoulder to turn me, and my first glimpse of him after all this time made me want to crumble into tears and scream at him and kiss him and apologize and a dozen other things.

“I couldn’t figure out why it felt impossible to walk away from those conversations. But it’s because it was you. Always you, Charlie. Only you.”

All I managed to get out was a weak “Deac—” before my voice gave out, and he pulled me into his arms, his mouth crashed down onto mine.

“We can’t. I can’t,” I said against the kiss, and pressed against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. Fear swam through his light brown ones as they bounced back and forth, taking in mine. “Don’t say that.”

“How do we trust each other after this? How do we get past this?”

“One day at a time,” he said with all the confidence in the world. “We both fucked up by not walking away from those conversations long ago. I hurt you that night I walked away, I know.” He pressed his forehead against mine, and asked, “Charlie Girl, did you give me your heart?”

The tremor in his voice, as if he was afraid of what my answer would be, made my chest ache. “Yes, but—”

“Do you regret it?”

I stared into his eyes for long moments, then slowly shook my head. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t. “You caused so much chaos in my shattered heart for years, and I always shied away from it, and then hated you for it when I moved back. But you—Stranger—put my heart back together so I could give it to you. It was always meant to be yours.”

His eyes seemed to burn, and his hands moved to curve around the slope of my neck and tilt my head back until our lips brushed. “An hour ago, I was still so sure that I didn’t know what love was. That it didn’t exist. Then Keith . . . that kid . . .” He trailed off and his chest moved with his silent laugh before the amusement suddenly left his face. Almost absentmindedly, he shook his head. His thumbs brushed along my jaw. “Things can change in just a couple minutes when you think you’re losing everything . . . yeah?” he asked, bringing up our conversation from our last night together.

I nodded slowly.

“Funny what suddenly becomes clear in an instant when even half of what you’ve lost comes running back to you.”

I didn’t know where he’d seen Keith, but I was thanking God for that reunion.

“We have a lot to get through. We have a lot of trust we have to build back up, but I won’t give up until we do. Because I want my days to consist of superheroes and powers, and ladybugs and Darth Vader, even though the last two have nothing to do with Marvel comics.”

A muted laugh escaped my lips as I attempted to contain my smile.

He backed me up until my legs hit the bed, and laid me down as he crawled on top of me. “I want my mornings to begin with you in my arms, and my nights to end with me inside you.” His mouth brushed against the base of my neck, then my jaw and both of my cheeks. “I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again. I can’t promise I won’t fuck up. I can’t promise I won’t say something wrong. But I promise I’ll take care of your heart for the rest of my life, Charlie Girl. You’ve shown me what it means to love someone, and I swear to Christ I love you.”

“I love you too,” I choked out past the tightness in my throat.

He dipped his head, but stopped just above my mouth. “Is this the part of the story where the hero kisses the girl?”

A soggy laugh burst from my chest, and I nodded even as I said accusingly, “I thought you weren’t a hero.”

“Superheroes get the girls too.”

His mouth captured mine with the kind of force I’d come to expect and crave from Deacon, and my body melted beneath his when he gently prodded my lips with his tongue.

Always asking, always devouring when I gave.

Always perfect.

Deacon tensed when shouting came from the front of the house, and seconds later, the door to the bedroom burst open.

We barely had time to stop kissing before the sound of light feet met with the scream, “Superman!” and then there was nothing at all.

Crap.

Deacon let out a low oof, and I grunted with the weight of Keith landing sideways on top of him.

We both looked over at the cheesy grin lighting up my son’s face as he watched us. “Are you pissing Mommy?”

“Oh gosh. Bud, it’s kissing. He was kissing Mommy.”

Keith sighed dramatically. “That’s what I said!”

Deacon’s smile matched Keith’s. “I was.”

My eyes stopped mid-roll when I realized what had just happened. I pulled in a soft gasp. “Baby, who are you?”

Blue, blue eyes found me, smiling just as much as the rest of his face. “Mommy, don’t be silly. I’m Superman!”