She pressed her mouth to mine.
Hard.
“Rynna,” I moaned.
Fucking Rynna.
Little Thief.
29
Rynna
Strong arms wrapped around my waist, and the rocker groaned when Rex pushed to standing, taking me with him. He hiked me up into the strength of his arms, my legs immediately cinching around his narrow waist.
With one arm locked around my waist, he gripped me by the jaw with the other hand, controlling our kiss, ruling my mind where I disappeared into the abyss of this complicated man.
My spirit roared.
A thunder of grief and torrent of love.
I wanted to sing it. Sing it for him. For this man who’d lost so much and deserved every good thing the world had to give. Instead, I poured it into him. Into our kiss and into every desperate touch.
He gripped me tighter, wedging open the door, carrying me inside. With his foot, he held the door open, breaking away for the briefest flash when he called, “Milo, come,” his voice gruff.
My tiny puppy scampered past his feet, trotting right over to the bed Rex had set up for him in the corner of the living room, already knowing his place.
Then Rex got right back to kissing me. A hand wound up in my hair and the other locked around my waist.
I ached for him in a way that was only possible when someone’s joy mattered more to you than anything else. When you’d give up yours to see them smile. When you’d sacrifice to make them happy.
When you were so far gone the only thing that mattered was them.
My gramma had told me I’d just know.
That it’d be magic.
And that was what this felt like.
Magic. Magic composed of so many threads. Layers of wounds and grief and tragedy. All of it bound by a seed of hope that had been planted somewhere along the way.
It bloomed.
Bloomed so big and bright that this man was the only thing I could see.
It felt too powerful to be one-sided. Too vast to be warped.
Lives pieced together precariously. Fragilely. A tender, loving, imperfect balance.
He carried me down the hall, only pausing for a moment to look in at Frankie, who was fast asleep. The man smiled up at me when he partially drew her door back shut, his expression so profound as he swept his hand back into my hair, his words a grumbled rasp. A root that had blossomed from that hopeful seed. “Want to do this every night, Rynna. Want to tuck my baby girl in bed then take my other girl to mine.”
He walked us the rest of the way into his room. He kicked the door shut and tossed me onto his bed. I bounced on the mattress, a wave of need capturing me. Chasing away the fears and the questions that had plagued us since we’d met.
Nothing left to stand in our way.
He reached back and clicked the lock before reaching down and peeling his shirt over his head, revealing the overwhelming strength of his chest and the ripple of his abs glowing in the wispy tendrils of moonlight that flooded his room.
I heaved out a breath.
