Falling into You (Falling Stars 3) - Page 76

I wanted to cling to that feeling forever, but I could feel the girl pulling away.

She tried to keep her attention averted as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and readjusted her dress.

I didn’t even take the time to tuck myself back into my pants. I took her by the face, hands on both cheeks, urging her to meet my gaze.

First thing I saw was the horror in her eyes.

Shame and guilt.

“Don’t,” I grated. “Don’t regret this.”

She exhaled a tiny sound, those eyes overwhelmed. “Don’t regret this? How could I not?”

I brushed back the hair matted to her face, caressed the pad of my thumb over the angle of her jaw, stared down at the one who meant everything. “Because you and I both know where we belong. That you and me? We’re right, baby. We belong. No denying that.”

Pain lanced through her expression. “I can’t even control myself when I’m around you. You make me weak. You make me so weak, Richard. I don’t even recognize myself when you’re around.”

“You’re wrong. When we’re together? Both of us are exactly who we are supposed to be.” My voice ground with sincerity.

Sorrow sifted through her demeanor, and she tried to wipe away the dried tears on her cheeks. I pulled my jeans up before I stood, and I reached a hand for her where she was still on her knees. “Come here, sweet girl.”

Instead of taking it, she looked up at me with that false determination written on her in dark, chaotic colors. “This can’t happen again.”

I didn’t say anything. I just nudged my hand out closer to her.

Sighing, she took it, and I helped her onto her feet.

I snatched her underwear from the ground and tucked them into my pocket.

She rolled her eyes, mumbled in that adorable drawl, “God, you are such a man.”

I got back in her space, towering over this seductive thing who looked like she didn’t know if she wanted to climb me again or bolt. I fluttered my fingertips across her trembling bottom lip. “A man who’s gone without for far too long.”

Her teeth ground, and she forced out the words, “Maybe it’s time you found someone else.”

My thumb grazed her jaw, voice rough, “That what you want?”

“I wish that it was.”

“And I wish I could be the man good enough to give you everything you deserve.”

I didn’t say anything else. I just followed her back through the rows of flowers and hedges that this girl watched over.

Made them flourish.

The kindler of beauty.

Silence moved around us in wisps and vapors. That energy lulled yet unsatisfied.

She climbed the main hill back toward her house. She started for the porch, and I reached out for her hand and stopped her at the first step.

Warily, she turned.

Rays of milky light shined down on her precious face.

Her spirit a hammer in the atmosphere.

“Not gonna give up, Violet. Until my last day, I will be loving you. I will be protecting you. Whatever the cost. Hate me or not.”

Then I dropped her hand, turned, and left her there as I headed back to my truck. I climbed in and watched her staring at me in the distance.

She stood like a statue.

A fortress.

Black hair billowing around her vulnerable strength as the breeze blew through.

A goddess to be revered.

Had no clue how long we just sat that way. Like our pasts raced to see if there was a way to carve out a future from the barricades and trenches the years and betrayals had formed.

Finally, she turned, slowly climbed the steps, and crossed to the door. She glanced back. Her soul on display.

Sheer, unmitigated love.

Hope.

Belief.

And the glaring hole left by distrust and doubt.

She opened the door a crack and slipped inside.

And I wondered how big of a fool it made me that the one thing I was clinging to was that hope.

The tiny, threadbare dangling string of hope that I could pull this off and she wouldn’t completely hate me in the end.Twenty-ThreeVioletSeven Years AgoNerves rolled through her being. Body and soul. Heart and mind.

She inhaled an anxious breath as she straightened out her dress. She was at the base of the rolling hill, hidden from everyone else. Her bridesmaids marched a path ahead of her as the strains of the violin drifted through the cool evening breeze. The heat of the day waned as the sun began to sink toward the horizon, making a descent toward the tops of the lush copse of trees that surrounded the area.

Her daddy stepped up to her side, his face spilling over with the amount of love that shone. “Oh, mi amor, you are a sight to behold,” he told her, his smile so soft and filled with abundant warmth.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“I am nothing but the speaker of the truth.” He touched his chest. Sincere.

Tags: A.L. Jackson Falling Stars Romance
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