With the way his eyes cut to me, I wondered exactly whose mom he was talking about.
He was staying with us since my mama had an extra room.
Need twisted my belly.
Last night, everything had finally shattered when I saw him with that woman at the bar.
For a split second, I’d thought he was with her. I’d been struck frozen while visions of him taking her back to his room had assaulted me. Stripping her of her clothes. Touching her the way I was desperate for him to touch me.
And I knew it then—in the way my heart had completely clutched in my chest. Stalling out before it’d jumped into a sprint when he’d looked at me as if he’d been watching for me.
Waiting for me.
As if he needed me every bit as much as I needed him.
I was falling and there was zero hope of being caught.
Swept away by a current that was stronger than my reservations.
That current only intensified when Royce edged up behind me right then, his breath caressing the shell of my ear.
“In you go, Precious,” he murmured just for me, voice rough as he guided me toward the third-row seat.
The very backseat that the two of us had been relegated to. Melanie had claimed she’d put all our names in a basket and pulled them out at random.
I called BS, although there was a bigger part of me that wasn’t complaining at all. The part that shivered with needy nerves as I climbed into the backseat.
It was my heart sure it was getting ready to get crushed all over again that was doing the worrying.
Royce guided his massive body in beside me.
I did my best not to breathe him in.
Useless.
I was inhaling all things Royce Reilly.
Cedar and sex and that lingering scent of cigarettes. I had the urge to burrow my nose to his throat.
In the cramped confines, the outside of his thigh pressed up against mine.
My heart stuttered and heaved.
This was going to be a very long trip.
Everyone else piled in, Rhys in the front, Richard and Melanie in the middle.
Leif had flown home to spend the few days off with his wife and their kids.
The driver pulled out of the hotel and headed in the direction of my hometown.
“Here we go,” Rhys called. “Dalton, South Carolina. Best fucking town on the planet. Basically because I was bred and born there.” Rhys shifted around to toss an exaggerated wink to Royce.
Royce just grinned with a small shake of his head.
Looked like Rhys was winning him over, too. Adding an easiness to the air that wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for his casual smiles and friendly gestures and over-the-top ridiculousness.
It was hard not to love Rhys Manning. I just wondered if he’d ever completely love someone back.
Well, other than his mama, of course.
The car sped down the road, the city disappearing behind us as we began the two-hour trip that would take us deep into the country.
My gaze drifted out the window, taking in the increasingly familiar scenery. God, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it. How I’d been longin’ for something familiar. Something that reminded me at the end of the day, after the lights went down and the glitz faded away, that this . . . this was what was important.
Family.
Above, blue skies seemed to go on forever. It was dotted by a few flawlessly puffed white clouds that looked as if they’d been drawn on a child’s coloring page, one perfectly hewn at the bottom edge of a blazing sun so distinct you could almost make out the little triangular rays.
I’d have been lulled into the deepest comfort if it hadn’t have been for the tension that bottled in the space between Royce and me.
Awareness thick.
Our breaths shallow. Time spinning in a way that felt as if it were knitting us together all while forcing us apart.
Two worlds shoved together that couldn’t possibly fit.
And somehow . . . somehow, I was getting to the point that I was willing to risk it all to give it a try.
Would he be willin’, too?
Because I was pretty sure a risk was the only thing we were.
The SUV slowed as we made our way into a town that could barely be considered a city.
Royce leaned over, eyes watching me as he whispered, “Are you happy to be going home?”
There was almost pain in the question.
I pulled his hand into my lap for the briefest second, squeezed it in sincerity. “Yes. So happy. I have to admit I’m glad you’re goin’ to be there with me. That you can see where we’re from.”
Regret and something that looked like guilt traipsed across his face. “I hope you can always say that about me—that you’re happy I was here. A part of your life . . .”
He didn’t add the rest, even though I heard it plain as day—before I am gone.