The air shifted.
Hit with that charge.
A bolt of electricity.
I sucked in a breath, and he placed his palm at the center of my chest, nudging me back until I was sitting up, straddling him.
He gripped his length in his hand.
Already ready. Wanting more.
Which was just fine, because everything I had belonged to this man.
31
Rynna
Morning light flooded through the window. Bright, white, and glowing.
I thought maybe I was, too.
I watched Rex, the man lost to sleep. Peace floated around him like a full-body halo where he lay face down on his bed. Twisted in his sheets. A hint of his perfect, round ass peeked out from above the satiny material, the ridges of his muscular back on display, his shoulders so deliciously wide.
My gaze traced every inch of exposed skin.
Even though he’d been so lost, he’d opened up, willing to be found.
Redness rushed across my chest and up to my face, this feeling that was so heavy and warm and light fluttering through my senses. Everything so incredibly right.
Not even trying to stop my smile, I quietly dressed and slipped out of his room.
I peeked in at Frankie. I had to stifle a laugh when I found her facing the opposite end of her bed, sprawled out across it. She had one arm thrown over the side and a leg bent at an odd angle so her foot rested against the wall.
Not even sleep could keep that rambunctious child tamed.
My heart thrummed.
Love. Love. Love.
Pulling her door closed a fraction, I continued to edge down the hall, eager to start the day. Milo would need to be taken out.
On top of that? I figured Rex would love to have a fresh pot of coffee waiting for him when he woke.
Or maybe . . .
Maybe I would have one of Pepper’s breakfast pies ready. The kind my gramma had been known for most. It was close to a quiche, but the entire thing was topped with a flaky, delicious crust. People had come for miles to have it start their days.
A grin gripped my entire face when I thought of Rex’s reaction. The way he’d look at me when he stood all rumpled and sleepy at the end of the hall, finding me in his kitchen.
That man and his pie.
When he heard me approaching, Milo scrambled to his feet. Nails scratching at the wood floor, he scampered over to me. His tail and hind-end wagged all over the place, his whole body shaking.
“Morning, sweet boy,” I said. I scooped him into my arms. “I bet you need to go potty, don’t you?” I cooed, nuzzling my nose against the top of his head. He licked my chin.
I slipped on the flip-flops I’d left by the couch and grabbed his leash.
Right as I was reaching for the knob, light knocking sounded against the wood. It stopped me short. Ears perking up, Milo twisted in my arms, his attention trained that direction. I fumbled my fingers through his soft fur. “It’s okay, sweet boy. Let’s see who it is so they don’t wake up the whole house.”
I glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even seven in the morning. Frowning, I quickly and quietly twisted the lock, careful as I eased it open.
Confused, I blinked, trying to see through the bright sunlight that poured in from behind the figure on the porch.
A blazing silhouette just on the other side of Rex’s door.
I attempted to shake myself from the hallucination. To focus clearly. Desperate to find who was really there and not what my mind was taunting me into believing.
Bewilderment stirred through my brain, nudging at the recesses of my mind, prodding at every hurt I’d triumphed. Every fear that had attempted to hold me back. I could feel the trigger being squeezed. Shooting me straight into the worst kind of dream.
No.
I blinked at her.
No.
Movement at the end of the hall tore my attention from the figure standing on the porch. My mouth flapped open, questions wanting to pour out when I found Rex standing there, wearing only his jeans.
But I couldn’t say anything.
His own shock had frozen him in place, those sage eyes wider than I’d ever seen.
“Janel,” he finally rasped. Her name was barely audible, but it struck my world like an atomic bomb.
Detonating.
Exploding.
Destroying.
Slowly, I looked back at her. My knees went weak.
And the entire world dropped out from under me.
32
Rex
I could barely see through the fog. Through the haze of my mind.
Clouded.
Confused.
Hurt and hate. They spun through my spirit, a goddamned cyclone that blistered my blood.
I stood at the end of my hall staring at the woman who couldn’t be anything more than an apparition.
A fucking ghost. A demon cast from hell to torment the living.
Or maybe that was just where I’d been condemned.
Hell.
Punishment for giving up and giving in.
Because Rynna stood there, as shocked as I was, her knees going weak when Janel’s name finally tore through my lips like lead.
It might as well have been a bullet.
Rynna fumbled back a step. Her hand shot out to the wall to keep her from falling. Janel stared at her. Shocked. Angry. Jealous. I didn’t fucking know. All I knew was she finally said her name.
“Rynna?”
She said it like she knew her.
“What are you doing here?” Janel all of a sudden demanded, words a harsh breath.
Guessed that was what finally knocked me from the trance. The fact she had the audacity to come into my house and make any kind of claim. I angled forward, head cocked to the side as I stalked across the floor of my home.
My home.
Frankie’s home.
The home I had every intention of becoming Rynna’s, too.
“You really gonna fucking stand there and demand to know who’s in my house? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“Rex.” Janel’s blue eyes found mine. Wide and innocent. The way she’d always looked at me when she wanted something most. Which was usually about all the time. Maybe I didn’t recognize it until then. But there it was, the truth of it glaring back at me.
Three fucking years, and she was going to stand there looking at me like that?
“Get the fuck out.” My voice was grit.
Rynna reeled at my side. Gasping over a breath. She barely caught herself before she fell to her knees, clutching Milo to her chest.
“No.” It was a whimper from her mouth.
Grief.
“Rynna,” I whispered, arm going out to gather her up. To steady her. To let her know it didn’t matter this fucking bitch was standing at my door.
Panic surged through me when she dodged my touch and lurched forward, grabbing her purse from where she’d set it on the floor the night before, and then bolted out my door.
Janel stumbled out of her way as Rynna blew by.
No fucking way was I letting this happen.
I darted after her. “Rynna. Stop. Don’t leave. Don’t . . . fuck, don’t leave.”
Don’t leave.
She didn’t seem to be able to focus when she looked back at me. She kept moving, stumbling down the steps of my front porch and clinging to the railing with one hand and Milo with the other, her eyes glazed over with confusion.
With horror.
With disbelief.
Like she was running from her own ghosts.
“Rynna,” I begged it again, desperate where I stood at the edge of my porch. Right where I’d confessed to her all my secrets last night.
“Please . . . just . . . don’t,” she pleaded. Her eyes flashed to Janel for a beat before she had a hand up to stop me. Frantic, she swallowed. “I have to . . . I have to get out of here.”
“Rynna.”
With a sharp, erratic shake of her head, she turned, fumbling as she shot forward.
Every part of me wanted to chase after her. Last thing I wanted was to be standing there, helpless, watching her flee across the road and disappear inside her house.
But I had an issue I needed to manage.
Hands clenched, I slowly turned to look at where Janel stood at the far end of the porch. She was twisting her fingers, throat wobbling, just as sure as her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to just show up—”
My head cocked, words nothing but fiery darts that cut her off. “You’re sorry?” I took a menacing step forward. “Three fucking years, and you’re sorry?”