Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars 4)

“Died and went to heaven,” I rumbled.

Maggie sighed and dropped her forehead to mine. “No, Rhys. It’s time to live.”

Twenty-Nine

Maggie

I dabbed at the cut on the corner of Rhys’ mouth, eyeing the giant of a man who leaned against the vanity gazing down at me.

My insides twisted in love.

Love and hurt and hope.

God, he looked like a beautiful mess.

He’d pulled on some jeans, though his hair was tousled, and his face was littered with cuts and scrapes.

But what held me rapt was that ocean of blue that roiled and churned.

His severity a blaze in the air though he remained almost frozen while I patched him up.

I kept vacillating between anger and ecstasy, and I swallowed the clot of it as I cleaned the largest cut that was at the top of his cheek. “I can’t believe he did this to you.”

I stood wedged between his thick thighs. He reached out and squeezed my hip. “Believe me, Sweet Thing, if I thought someone was hurtin’ you? I’d do the same.”

My head shook. “But he should have known—”

He squeezed a little harder. “Mags…your brother loves you. Would do anythin’ for you. You’re gonna come first, no matter what. And I let those pictures happen. Deserve to get my ass kicked for that alone, not to mention the rest of it.”

Blue eyes dimmed with anger and remorse.

“I don’t care what the world says about us, Rhys. Let them talk all they want. What matters is how the two of us feel.”

His expression was grim while that love poured out from a reservoir deep within him. His emotions ablaze. At odds yet somehow twining with mine. It was difficult for either of us to find air under the pressure of it.

“Wish that was the only thing that mattered,” he finally admitted.

“Isn’t it?” I asked, trying to ignore the way my heart rate slugged and slowed with the way he said it.

Something cold rushed across my flesh.

“Maggie, I…” Rhys hesitated. Warred. I could feel the old grief that had kept trying to get free pushing at the surface of his spirit.

And I was terrified of it and wanted to hold it all the same.

A flop of hair fell over his eye, and I carefully reached up and brushed it out of his face.

Tenderly.

“Need to tell you somethin’.” Misery filled his words.

“I know.”

His face pinched in agony.

Setting the cloth aside, I reached up and cupped his jaw, his beard rough against my palm. “There is nothing you could tell me that would make me love you any less.”

The promise rasped from my mouth, and I prayed he felt me the same way as I felt him.

That he would know my sincerity the way I was sure of his.

Anguish crested from his being. “Wish that was the truth, Maggie.” He gathered up my hand and pressed it to his mouth almost frantically. “Warned you that I’m really good at ruinin’ the things I love most. And I don’t want to mess this up, but I’m afraid I’m not strong enough.”

Torment lashed.

A torrent of it.

Rising fast and sucking him under.

I edged closer, erasing the barest inch that separated us, staring up at this man who was still clinging to my hand. “You are the strongest person I know, Rhys.” I took our entwined hands and pressed them to my chest. “Do you think I can’t feel it? Your strength? Your goodness? The fierceness that radiates from you? My stallion.”

He flinched and my name broke on his tongue. “Maggie.”

We both froze with the knock that sounded on the bathroom door.

I eased back, but only an inch because I couldn’t handle any space between us. “Come in.”

Emily poked her head through. Her expression was cautious, her voice an apology. “Hey, you two.”

“Hi.” I forced a weary smile.

Sympathy and remorse coated hers.

“Em-Girl,” Rhys muttered, going for a smirk that fell flat.

She blew out a sigh as she stepped the rest of the way into the bathroom. “I’m so sorry this spiraled out of control. I should have—” Helplessly, she gestured at the open door.

“Nothin’ you could do.” Rhys cut her off with a shake of his head. “Knew it was comin’. All’s good.”

“Is it?” She frowned her disagreement. “I should have kept a closer eye. Closer tabs. Made sure I could intervene before my husband became a ravin’ lunatic.”

Her disappointment in my brother was patent.

Rhys looked at me, and one of those soft twitches tweaked under his beard. It had a tumble of that need flapping in my belly. “Yeah. Everything is good. Really damned good.”

Tenderness filled that blue gaze.

My heart nearly burst.

Love. Love. Love.

He was right.

So right.

Everything was good and right.

We might have a few things to sort out, but we had each other, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Emily cleared her throat. “I’m glad you feel that way, but it doesn’t make it right.” Emily swiveled her attention to me. “Your brother is hoping you’d be willing to talk to him, though, Maggie. I can finish patchin’ Rhys up for you if you’re willing to hear him out.”