Postcards From…Verses Brides Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters
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But he shoved the thoughts aside, wanting his worries to disappear like the water down her drain. He couldn’t let go of the idea that their bond went far beyond mind-bending pleasure and into something more emotional. More real. All he had to do was convince her to give them a shot.
AFTER THEIR SHOWER, Rhys took Wren to his place. They didn’t want to fall victim to a lack of condoms again, and it wasn’t long before they wound up on his bed in a tangled heap of limbs. She’d lost count of the number of times he’d made her body soar.
It was a new experience for her, this contentment and trust that she had with Rhys. Sure, he teased her about her messy, disorganized lifestyle—and she gave it back to him—but that kind of teasing had an inherent sense of familiarity. In fact, she felt more at home in his arms than she ever had in Charity Springs.
It would be hard to say goodbye to him, but she couldn’t forget about the people who needed her back home.
With her cheek pressed against his rib cage, the slow rhythm of his breathing soothed her. Her fingertips gently traced the dark trail of hair that ran from his belly button to underneath the white bedsheet. Even after what they’d done, he was still semi-hard, his length tenting the sheet.
“Go on, I don’t bite,” he said, his voice husky. “You can touch me.”
“I thought you were sleeping.” She tilted her face up to his and kissed him. His tongue moved against hers with a lazy confidence that made her whole body tingle.
“Hard to sleep with a beautiful girl getting handsy with me.”
“I can stop.”
He brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Don’t you dare.”
But just then her stomach grumbled. Outside, the sun had started to dip and rich gold beams of light filtered through her blinds.
“I forgot to have lunch today,” she said. “I guess brownies and chocolate sauce don’t make for a very good meal replacement.”
“Want to order in?”
A happy bubble expanded in her chest. “It’s like you can read my mind.”
“Let me get it.” He pushed up from the bed and pulled the sheet over her.
Within the hour they were curled up on his couch, eating Chinese food.
“I can’t believe you don’t like fried rice,” she said, tucking into her chow mein. “And don’t even get me started on the tofu.”
“My body is a finely tuned athletic machine,” he said, but he couldn’t keep a straight face. “I’ve never had as many empty calories as I did this afternoon.”
“Those calories were one hundred percent delicious and worth it.”
“Agreed.” He dug around in the container with his chopsticks. “But I do take nutrition seriously.”
“You take everything seriously.”
“It’s a product of my upbringing, I guess.” He popped a piece of chicken into his mouth and chewed.
At the mention of his past, his face hardened. The warmth in his eyes dulled and small tension lines formed at the corners of his mouth.
“How so?”
“I guess I thought that if I became the perfect son then my mother would love me again,” he said. “I studied my ass off. I ate whatever crazy green shit she put on my plate. I never talked back, never broke a rule.”
Her heart bled for him. She knew how hard it was to be the “other” child, to always be second place. Only her relegation to the back of the line was because of her disappointing lack of focus, rather than grief. Still, the reason didn’t matter so much as the outcome. She understood his pain.
“I even quit basketball,” he continued, staring straight ahead, his face rigid. “I would have given up anything.”
“But it didn’t work?”
“No. I was too much my father for her to ever see me as a separate person. And when I told her that I wanted to go into the police force, she flipped.” He snorted. “I don’t know why she was so worried. It wasn’t like she even seemed to enjoy my presence half the time.”
“Why didn’t she want you to become a police officer?”
“That’s how my dad died. He crashed his car while chasing a guy who was fleeing the scene of a drug bust.” He looked at her, and some of the warmth crept back into his eyes. “He was a complete hero. I wanted to be just like him.”
“But your mom thought it was too risky?”
“Yeah. Nothing I could say would make her change her mind. Eventually she said if I chose to live that kind of life then she’d have nothing to do with me.” Pain streaked across his face but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “So I went to college and studied technology instead.”
“That’s sad that you didn’t get to pursue your dream.” She put her food aside and scooted along the couch to be close to him. She couldn’t ease his pain but she wanted to try, nonetheless. “I’m sure your father would be proud of you, even if you didn’t follow in his footsteps.”
“I’d like to think that.” He fished out the last piece of chicken from his dinner and placed the empty container on the coffee table. “And I’m happy with my career now. I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing. I’m good at my job and it’s the one area of my life where I can score a touchdown or two.”
His self-deprecating smile tore her heart into pieces. It wasn’t only that she’d come to respect Rhys deeply. He was kindhearted, giving and—despite his slight obsession with tidiness—wonderfully accepting of who she was.
Would he be so accepting if he knew why you were here? Not likely.
“I’m not sure what you would call it, but I’m certain we scored a touchdown before,” she said, swallowing back her guilt.
She wanted to trust him, wanted it deep down to her bones because she sensed he was different. That he wouldn’t turn on her like Christian had. But this wasn’t only her secret. It was Kylie’s, too. And knowing that Rhys was such a stand-up guy meant there was a chance he would turn her in, even if he didn’t want to. And that would end all hope of finding out what had really happened to Kylie.
“Good team effort,” he replied with a grin as he draped an arm around her shoulder. “And it was definitely two touchdowns.”
“Not that you’re counting.”
“I like knowing you’re satisfied.” His voice was deep and growly against her ear. “I