Clarity - Nicole Dykes Page 0,69

my chest.

“Wow. How did that go?” She doesn’t talk to her dad often, and when she does, it’s usually about business from what I've gathered.

“Fine. He was pissed I didn’t get a prenup.”

“I don’t want your money.”

She laughs, her finger tracing over my pec. “Oh, I know, but it’s yours if anything happens to me, regardless.” She tugs at the hem of my t-shirt. “I really want this off.”

I lift up and oblige, pulling it up and over my head, tossing it to the floor. “I don’t want your money.”

Her finger swirls over the tattoo on my chest and then down the sleeve of tattoos on my arm. “I don’t really care, Rhys. You’re my husband. If something happens to me, I want to make sure Bree, Rhett, Fletcher, and you are okay.” Her finger slides down the middle of my abs, following the carved muscles. “The house is in my name so we can sell it and get a bigger one. The trust is also in my name. And I've put both in your name also, along with college funds for all three kids.”

She knows I don’t give a damn about money, but the thought that she’s planned that far ahead does something to me, something crazy. I like planning for the future, but I can’t imagine one without her in it. “So, we’re like, really married, aren’t we?”

She just snorts a laugh at me. “You’re an idiot.” I smirk, and she kisses the corner of my mouth where it’s curving up. “Yes. I think it stopped being for show a long time ago.”

“Or it never was,” I say, looking down into her eyes.

“Yeah.” She kisses my lips. “Maybe it never was.”

It never was.

I lay next to Rhys and look out the window. It’s still dark outside, not even morning yet. But so many thoughts are running through my head. I worry that Rhys hiring someone from his past will hurt him, but I'm so damn proud of him for helping that kid.

I want to save them all.

I’m guilty of that.

The house I have my eye on has six bedrooms, and I’m already thinking about how we could possibly take in two more kids who need a good home. Bree, Fletcher, and Rhett are all safe. It would be good to move though, so that fucker, Herrington, can’t find Bree. Still, we keep a close eye on her, and I know Rhett and Fletcher do the same.

Let him try to get near her. It will be the last thing he ever does.

I can also feel how tense Rhys is as he sleeps. He rarely sleeps peacefully, and I'm not sure he ever will. But he does let me touch him more and more. I would love to help him relieve a little tension, pull down the covers and take him into my mouth, but I don’t think that would go over well yet.

I hate what that fucking bitch took from him, but it doesn’t matter. I know it doesn’t. I have Rhys, and I love every single thing about him.

It was never for show. I’ve loved him since the first night he couldn’t fuck me. He felt like he was using me, but he’s truly the only person who’s ever made me feel useful.

“You’re staring.” I hear his voice rumble, and I jump in surprise.

“You’re awake?”

“You’re staring. I can feel you.”

I feel slightly bad about that, wondering if I spooked him. My voice is raspy and meek when I ask, “Did you think it was her?”

He laughs and the sound is beautiful as he pulls me to his side. “No. I didn’t.”

“You can tell me. I’m sure it’s still hard waking up next to me.” I feel a stupid girly tear slide down my cheek and onto his bare chest.

“Why are you crying?”

“I hate what she took from you. I hate that I’m never going to be able to wake you up in a sexy fashion because of what that bitch did to you.”

He holds me closer, which makes me smile. “I knew it was you and not her, Blair. You smell different.”

“What?” I look up at him.

“She had this really expensive perfume. It almost smelled clinical.” His hand strokes my back. “Yours is kind of sweet. I like it.”

I look down again, barely able to make out his taut abs in the dark. “You know the difference?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“I hate what they did to you, Rhys,” I choke through the tears that fall. “But I love everything about