The scent of bacon and biscuits hit my senses. A warmth emanating that wrapped me in solace.

Home.

Home.

Home.

I moved down the hall to the narrow set of stairs that led into the kitchen, my back pressed to the wall as I inched down and listened to the muted chaos that was happening at the bottom.

I stopped at the base of the staircase so I could take it in, confusion twisting up my brow and somehow my heart knowing this was the way it should have been all along.

My daddy and Daisy were in their favorite spot, Daisy on her stool standing next to her papa at the counter, two of them singing one of their favorite songs.

My heart swelled, then it nearly tumbled over when my eyes drifted over the rest of the room.

Emily and Maggie were beside Daisy at the counter. Daisy was trying to teach them the words while they chopped up fruit for a salad. Emily’s voice so pretty that it danced through the atmosphere on ripples of peace.

Royce, Melanie, and Rhys were at the kitchen table, drinking from mugs of coffee and chatting away like they did it most every mornin’.

Like it was normal.

Like it was right.

My chest pressed full. So tight it was close to overwhelming.

Because sitting at the head of the table was my mama. My mama who was propped up in her wheelchair and drinking from a cup, too.

But it was my knees that were wobbling and my stomach that was tipping when my gaze traveled to the far side of the room. To where the man was standing, leaned against the wall next to the back door with his arms folded over his chest.

Fierce.

Unrelenting.

A warrior who stood guard.

Sage eyes found mine like he’d felt me coming from a mile away.

Our gazes tangled.

Fire crackled in the middle of the room. It was so severe that I guessed the rest of the room must have felt it because every voice fell silent.

Richard pushed off the wall and came toward me. His lithe body vibrated with fury and strength.

Sinewy muscle packed—flexing and twitching.

Little earthquakes trembled underfoot with every step that he took. My breaths came shorter and shallower as he slowly, purposefully closed the distance between us.

And then he was there, standing in front of me.

One massive hand cupped the uninjured side of my face, and the other brushed back the hair that was tousled in disaccord.

This feeling of security infiltrated. Wrapping me like a dream. That dark aura covering me in a shroud of protection.

Hard and savage.

Somehow soft.

Hungry eyes took me in like he was watching the sunrise breaking the day after living through a total eclipse.

And that’s what it felt like—standing in the sun.

“You’re awake.” Richard’s gruff voice scraped through the air and wrapped me like an embrace that I wanted to sink into forever.

Was I terrified? Of him repeating our bad history? Of him leaving me with a crater in the shape of him that I would never recover from?

Yes.

Wholly yes.

I would be a fool not to have reservations.

But there was a bigger part of me that was crying out to be heard. Screaming at me to listen to what was in his cryptic words and see what was hidden in his caring eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Richard’s head pitched to the side, his nose so close to mine that he might as well have been kissin’ me.

I thought maybe he was actually thinkin’ about doing it.

Right there.

Right out in the open.

My attention darted over his shoulder to the mass of faces that were watching us. We might as well have been on the big screen. Our love story playing out in vivid technicolor.

Witnesses to if we would ride off into the sunset or if we were written in tragedy.

I swallowed around the pressure, my tongue darting out to wet my dried, cracked lips. “Sore,” I managed to force out.

Richard growled. I didn’t know if it was from him watching the action, his needy stare on my lips, or if it was from the anger that blistered across his flesh.

Truth was, the side of my face pounded in a dull, throbbing ache, and my stomach was still agonizing with the blow.

But it was more the fear than anything.

The warning that vile, disgusting voice had hissed in my ear.

“You shouldn’t go diggin’ up graves. You never know when you might fall in.”

A shiver streaked down my spine.

Richard reached out and tipped up my chin, and I knew he was reading me. That he felt the terror wedge itself deep into my psyche. “Won’t let anyone touch you.”

It was a rumble.

Thunder that boomed through the space.

I nodded at him.

Surrendering to that truth. Believed that whatever was going on, he would do his best to take care of us.

The scraping of chair legs jolted us from the bubble. “Hell no, no one’s touchin’ you, sweet thing. We’ve got you.”

Tags: A.L. Jackson Falling Stars Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net