mickey-rhodale

Who are you?_ I whispered, leaning forward and reaching across the table to touch his sternly gorgeous face, almost afraid he__ disappear beneath my fingertips. __he face of an angel, the soul of a poet, and the fists of a fighter. I don__ know how to understand you, Mickey.__ickey caught my hand with his and then turned his head and pressed a soft kiss in my palm. ____ not the only poet at this table.

I can tell you that the only thing in the world that makes sense to me right now is you and me.

This is Lonesome Ridge, so we__ be the lonesome young,_ I pointed out. __ounds like a song.___ounds like a heartache,_ he said, tightening his arms around me and resting his cheek on the top of my heard. __ don__ want to be lonesome. I want to be with you.

I feel the same way. It doesn't make sense, and I can't understand it, but maybe emotions aren't supposed to make sense," I finally said.One the other line, Mickey blew out a deep breath."Tomorrow, then.""Tomorrow," I agreed.Just when I thought he'd hung up, I heard his voice again. "Victoria? Take care of yourself, until I'm with you to do it.

Blood might be thicker than water, but love was the most powerful magic of all.