Page 59 of Beautiful Rush
“If you need someone to hold your hand while you find your way through it, I’m your man.”
“You’re volunteering to be my man? Are you sure you’re up for the job?” I teased.
Even now that he knew the truth, he still liked me. I had given him an out. Waited for him to walk away. Instead, he had given me his own truths. Divulged who he really was and where he had come from, and how hard he must have worked to put his own past behind him.
“Oh, I’m up for the job. If you think you can get rid of me that easily, think again, Buttercup.”
“Buttercup?”
“You wanted a special nickname.”
“And Buttercup was the best you could come up with?”
“Buttercup is a badass.”
“On what planet?”
“Townsville.The Powerpuff Girls,” he said, perfectly straight-faced like this was something a twenty-eight-year-old guy knew all about and wasn’t embarrassed to admit.
I burst out laughing. “You watchedThe Powerpuff Girls?”
“Abby did.” He raised his brows. “Are you mockingThe Powerpuff Girls?”
I snorted laughter. “No.” I laughed again. It was funny.Hewas funny. I laughed more with Deacon than I had ever laughed with anyone. That was one of his gifts. He could make a heavy conversation lighter without minimizing it.
We sat in silence for a while. It was a comfortable silence. He made me feel safe, and not just physically. I could tell him anything and it wouldn’t change his opinion of me or make him like me any less.
When he had told me his real name, I knew that it was a big deal. He was trusting me with his life. Trusting me with his secret.
How odd that I had only kissed two men in my life. Had only slept with two men. Yet they were both Russian.
“Do you believe in fate?” I asked.
He glanced at me. “I do now.”
“What does it have in store for us?”
“Let’s go back to the house and I’ll consult my crystal ball.”
I laughed. He stood up and took my hands in his, pulling me to my feet. Now I could look into his honest green eyes and feel no shame. I had nothing to hide and nowhere I wanted to run. We were in a different place than we’d been before, our relationship deeper and more honest.
“You’re beautiful, Keira Shaughnessy.”
I knew he wasn’t just talking about physical beauty, and that made the compliment mean so much more. “You’re not so bad yourself, Deacon Ramsey. I think I’ll keep you.”
His lips curved up at the corners, a hint of a smile, his eyes locked onto mine. In the sunlight, I noticed the flecks of gold in the green. In the woods that smelled like Christmastime, the pine trees soaring to the sky, fingers of sunlight caressing our skin, he pressed his lips against mine and kissed me softly.Gently.
18
Keira
“This is like the return of the prodigal son,” Abby said.
The teak table on the back deck was laden with food—potato salad, coleslaw, green salad, deviled eggs, vegetable and steak kebabs, barbecued chicken, and a strawberry shortcake, all prepared by Faye Ramsey while Deacon and I had been in the woods, spilling our guts. Deacon’s mom, Faye, was thrilled when Deacon had shown up unexpectedly. As soon as he’d arrived, she had called Abby who drove up from the city to see her brother. Unsurprisingly, none of the members of the Ramsey family resembled each other. Abby was Deacon’s polar opposite—petite, with dark eyes and coal black hair cut in a sleek bob.
“Everyone knows I’m Mom’s favorite,” Deacon teased.
“I don’t play favorites. But you are my favorite son.” Faye winked at him. “And we haven’t seen you since Christmas.”
