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Cash moves closer. “What did I tell you?” he says, like Rock is a child. “But I should’ve known you’d put your hand in the goddamn cookie jar before long.” There’s amusement in his tone as I settle back into the pillows.
Rock shrugs. “Can’t help how we feel,” he says. Pure adrenaline, fueled by the rush of hearing him say that, runs through my veins. “I’ve got a long way to go in provin’ it to her father, but we’re not gonna be kept apart.”
Cash regards him for a moment before his eyes move to me. “I’ll let you get some rest.”
Smiling softly, I nod. “Thank you, Cash.”
As soon as the door closes, I turn to Rock. “That didn’t go as planned.”
He chuckles. “Yes, it did. Your dad was never gonna be okay with it. I just have to bide my time and prove to him that I’m worthy of you.”
I bite my lip. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course I mean it. You're his daughter. I get he’s not gonna be happy about it. You almost died!”
“Don’t be angry with yourself,” I say. “Please, Rock. I don’t blame you. I should’ve seen the signs. Poor Beth…”
“Tara broke into Beth’s office,” he goes on. “Framed her for the whole thing. She wasn’t smart enough to cover her tracks.”
“Let me guess, security cameras?”
He smiles, kissing me chastely. “You got it.”
“Take me home, Rock. I don’t want to be here.”
“The doc said a few hours, need to make sure you have nothin’ more than a concussion. Then we’ll go.”
“Promise?”
He smiles, looking down at me with adoration. “Promise.”
“I meant what I said to my dad. I want us to be together, to try, anyway.”
“I want that too.”
“Even if I’m a complete nightmare to live with?”
He smirks. “Long as one of us learns to cook and clean, then I think we’re gonna be just fine.”
I smile against his mouth. “That’s not gonna be me, bozo.”
He kisses me again. “Looks like we’re gonna be orderin’ take-out and hirin’ a maid, then.”
“Suits me.”
Chuckling, he grins. “You suit me, and I’m gonna do everythin’ I can to make you see how much you mean to me.”
“I love you.”
His eyes burn into mine, and I feel it in my very soul when he says, “Right back at ya, Trouble.”
Rock
One month later
Priest winces at the bar as I slap him on the shoulder.
“You still sore?”
