Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars #4) - A.L. Jackson Page 0,135
charges are long and deep. He was arrested for the murders of both Genny and her father. I’ve asked them to open a case for my father, too.”
“Oh, Rhys. My sweet man.”
I touched the edge of his mouth where it trembled.
“My daddy was a good man.”
“No doubt,” I whispered. “Look at the son he raised. Look at this good, good man.”
Rhys kissed my fingertips that I ran across his lips.
I blinked. “I should have waited for you. The money...” I trailed off in a bit of misery. God. I’d thought I was protecting it, and all I’d done was turn it over to someone just as cruel and filled with greed as my father had been.
A glint instantly sparked in the depths of those blue, blue eyes. “Ah, no need to fret, my Sweet Thing. Your brother is a cunnin’ devil. Seems he took off with the duffles into the woods before the cops showed. Dude thinks on his feet, that’s for sure.”
Relief rippled free on the softest giggle. “Of course, he did.”
Rhys ran his thumb across the nape of my neck. Massaging. Comforting. “Another one of those good men.”
“He is.” I gulped around the lump that formed. “I can’t believe I thought it was our mother this whole time.”
I found solace in that. A spark of hope lighting that maybe…maybe she had a spec of a conscience, after all.
His lips shifted to grim. “I hate that I dragged you into my mess. Warned you I would.”
“But we came out of it together.”
Tenderness traipsed through his expression.
“What happens now?” That I whispered.
Those massive hands held tighter to my face. “We live, Maggie. We live. As long as you still want me. As long as you’re still feelin’ this after everything I put you through.”
“Do I feel it, Rhys? I felt it the day I met you. Something different. Something bigger.” I rested my cheek back on the thundering of his chest. “And my heart—it got molded into a new shape. It got mended into the shape of you.”
He chuckled low. “Huh. Seems mine got all mangled up in the shape of you, too.”
Laughing, I swatted at him and edged back so I could see his smiling face.
One of those smiles that took my breath away and made me weak in the knees.
“Mangled, huh?” I demanded playfully.
He softened, his fingers gliding through my hair. “Yeah, Sweet Thing. So twisted up it no longer knows how to beat without yours.”
My teeth clamped down on my bottom lip.
It was crazy how life could be.
How we could never anticipate the turns it would take.
How we could never predict the sharp curves in our paths or the direction each day might take.
How it only took a few months for our hearts that had been being sculpted for years to be forged into something brand new.
Something beautiful and right.
“I love you, Rhys Manning,” I murmured.
Affection tugged his lips up at the sides. “Luckiest bastard alive.”
I giggled, and he hugged me tight.
We both jerked when the door whipped open and a nurse rushed in. She stumbled a beat when she saw us then sent us a scowl. “There you are. You’re not supposed to be in her bed. You’re supposed to be in yours.”
Rhys adjusted me so I was draped over the top of him, both of us wincing but knowing this kind of connection was worth a little pain. He was looking directly at me when he spoke. “Sorry, ma’am, I mean no disrespect, but no one gets to tell me whether it’s right or wrong if I’m with my Maggie anymore.”
Reaching up to cup my face, he chuckled. Low and rough. “Turns out, I’m good with breakin’ all the rules for you.”
Giddiness leapt.
“Let’s break them together. Forever.”
“Ahh, Goddess Girl, I like the way you think.”
The nurse scowled, then Rhys shot her a smirk, and I was pretty sure she sighed. “Just for a bit. Then you need to get back to your room. You both need your rest.”
She fiddled around us while Rhys held me tight, then she eased back out without saying anything else.
“Such a rebel,” I teased.
“You always said you wanted a cowboy.”
“No, Rhys…I want a stallion.”
Love flashed across his face, and then he was tucking me against the safety of his humming heart again.
“Sing me that beautiful song you’ve been writing,” I murmured.
And that gruff, rough voice billowed into the atmosphere.