Page 30 of Beautifully Reckless

A part of me wishes he never had to tell me this story. That I didn’t have to hear his pain.

But the other part of me? The part of me that aches for him… well that part is glad for it. Because as horrible as it is, it explains so much about this man.

About the way he carries himself.

About the way he protects those he cares about.

The way he protects me.

As Ringo swipes at my tears again, I reach up and cup his bearded jaw, my thumb brushing over the rough stubble.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Cameron,” I say softly, using his real name.

Aflicker of something crosses his eyes. Something I can’t quite name.

“You’re a good man. You didn’t deserve that.Hopedidn’t deserve that.”

“Fuck.” His chest rises sharply, his breath catching before he leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. “You being pregnant doesn’t change the way I feel about you, Angel. Seeing it unexpectedly was a trigger I guess, but now…” His lids fall shut, hiding those intense whiskey eyes.

When he opens them, he pulls back, his gaze shifting to my pregnant belly.

“Fuck, it all makes so much sense now.”

“What does?” I frown.

“You feeling sick. Not being able to handle eating meat. Fuck, even how horny you were.”

I blanch, heat rushing to my cheeks as I scramble from his lap.

“That’s not why I was—”

Ringo smirks, and damn if his eyes don’t look a little lighter than they did a minute ago.

“No? Then what made you so horny, Angel?”

I narrow my eyes at his teasing tone.

“It was the orgies.”

Throwing his head back, his deep laughter fills the skyline, and damn, it’s the best sound in the world.

If all it takes to make him laugh is saying stupid shit, then I’ll do it a thousand times over. If I could erase the pain he’s suffered, and take away even a fraction of the weight he carries, I’d say the dumbest shit on repeat until he never remembered it again.

But I know that’s not enough.

“Okay,sure,” he draws out the words,patting the loveseat next to him. “It was the orgies.”

Poking my tongue out at him, I move back to sit on the loveseat, tempted to tuck myself deep into the cabana-styled shell of the outdoor furniture and hide away with him forever.

I wish.

God, how I wish.

Angling himself towards me, Ringo reaches up and brushes some of my pink strands behind my ear, his gaze dancing from my eyes to my lips and back again.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted that day, Angel. When I was able to calm down again, you were gone.” He shakes his head in frustration and hooks his finger under my jaw. “Why did you run? Did you think I was going to hurt you?”

The memory hits like a spear lodging itself into my heart.

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