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“Baby, there’s nothing to forgive—”

But she was trying to wrestle her way off his lap. What was she doing? He finally let her go, worried she was going to hurt herself. She stood and then flung herself onto his lap. By now she was sobbing.

What the fuck?

“Do it. Please. Do it.”

“Charlotte. Please get up.” His stomach was a tight knot as he listened to her sob like he’d taken a switch to her. “Charlotte, please.”

“Spank me. Spank me. Spank me.”

There was a hysterical note in her voice and worry bit at him. She fought his hold but he held her against him.

“Please. Please, Clint.”

“I am not spanking you,” he told her firmly. “Not for taking the food. Settle down. Now.”

She continued to fight and he worried about her arm. About her health.

“Charlotte, settle down. Right now. Or I’m going to have Doc come and give you a sedative.”

She took in a sobbing breath. She couldn’t stop her cries, but she did stop fighting him. Instead, she buried her face in his chest.

Worry ate at him as he held her as she cried. He stood and carried her out of the bedroom and into the room next to his. She didn’t say anything as he walked inside and moved to the wardrobe, where he picked out a warm, soft blanket.

Then he strode over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room and sat, settling her on his lap with the blanket around her. He just rocked them in silence. She lay so still against him that he wondered if she’d gone to sleep. But after a few minutes of rocking, she stirred and glanced around.

“What is this room?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

He glanced around at the room. It was smaller than his bedroom, but far cozier. There was a large, wooden cot in one corner. A changing table sat close by. In the corner opposite him was some book shelving and a toy box. The walls were coated in a soft yellow. A big rug sat on the floor in front of the book shelving.

“This is the nursery. My mom used it for each of us kids. It’s sat empty since then.”

“Doesn’t smell musty.”

“No, I think Eden comes in and opens up the windows every so often.”

“Why did you bring me in here?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I thought you might find it soothing to be rocked and I remembered this chair in here.”

“It’s a nice chair.” She fell silent. “Sorry I kind of lost it in there.”

He rubbed her back. “Will you tell me about the nightmare?”

She ran her hand over her face. “It started off with Allan yelling at me about stealing. And then Allan b-became Brian. He was screaming at me. It was the night he kicked me out.”

“Why did he kick you out?”

“He got sick of me.”

No wonder her default setting was to believe everyone would reject her.

“I wasn’t what he needed. I was never good at socializing. I tend to spend a lot of time in my own head. He wanted someone who was driven and ambitious and I just wanted to stay at home and play house.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, you hear me? And he is very much at fault for making you feel less for your needs.”

“He slept in another room, because it drove him nuts that I needed th


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