“Ryan took it personally, my kidnapping. He thinks if we hadn’t ... if we hadn’t ever been together then I never would have been held hostage. Which is true.”
“I guess that is true. Do you blame him?”
“Of course not.” Brayden startled at her voice, and she nuzzled her cheek to his to get him back to sleep. “Of course not,” she repeated.
“Ty told him to stay out of your life. How do you feel about that?”
“He’s just being a protective big brother.”
“Something you’ve complained about many times before.”
Hope and Ty had been best friends since Mia was in middle school, so she’d always idolized Hope in a big sister sort of way. It was why she didn’t tell her much about Ryan before. She’d been too afraid she’d tell Ty and he’d freak out, like he had the other night.
It had been safer to talk about her hot sexcapades with Grace and even Jenna.
“Ryan was... He blames himself. There’s a lot more to it than that.” Mia told her a rundown version of Ryan’s past and a PG-13 version of their relationship.
Hope put her arm around Mia and rested her head on her shoulder. “That poor man. No wonder he went a little overboard with keeping you at a distance.”
“It’s so complicated. I get it now. I get why he had to treat me the way he did. I’m not mad at him. I don’t hate him. I just wish things could be different.”
“Cameron had blamed himself for Delaney’s kidnapping. If it wasn’t for his psycho family, that never would have happened. But he wasn’t the one who did it. He was the one who rescued her. You saw me then. I did blame him for a second, and regretted it terribly. I know it’s different. I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this.”
“Ryan lost his wife and son.” Even though she had been on her way to becoming his ex-wife, and his son wasn’t really his son. “That’s twice someone close to him got hurt because of his job. It was never his fault, but it was his job that put us in jeopardy, and he loves his job.”
“His job isn’t what hurt you or killed his wife or son. Evil people are responsible for those crimes, not him.”
Mia knew that; she’d told him the same thing. He didn’t hurt her. Ryan was the one who helped save her.
“I’ve learned a lot from Cameron and from all of you. There’s a lesson that we all need to live by. You can’t live your entire life with the what ifs. I never should have. Live for today. Live for the moment. Live for tomorrow. You won’t regret doing, but you’ll regret not doing.”
“What are you trying to say? You think I should chase Ryan down? And then what?”
“No. I’m saying follow your heart. Don’t do what others expect you to do. Do what’s best for you.” Hope hugged her tight before taking her arm away. “Now I’m having baby withdrawals. I need some snuggle time before the rest of the crew gets here and I have to give them the evil eye for taking my baby away.”
Mia chuckled and handed Brayden back to her. She left before Ty got there, not wanting to listen to his lecture or see the pitiful look in his eyes when he saw how sad Mia was.
Hope was right. She’d started living her life for her before she met Ryan and would continue living it now.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Six weeks hadn’t been enough time to get over Mia. Hell, six years, six life times wouldn’t be enough. Ryan kept his nose to the grind, as usual, and buried himself in work. He made two quick trips back to Maine to meet with the district attorney and judge overseeing the Miller-Kaiser case, but took a returning flight home each night, not wanting to tempt himself by being so close to Mia.
The days had dragged, and he found himself more miserable than before. Before he’d gotten to know Mia. Before he’d kissed her, touched her, laughed with her. He shouldn’t compare her to Sharon; they were complete opposites.
While Sharon was the quintessential doting housewife—until she started her affair—Mia was anything but. Sharon prided herself on decorating their home, always looking stylish, keeping up with the latest trends, and volunteering her time to well-known charities.
A Stepford wife, in a way. They weren’t rolling in the money, but with no college debt and smart investments, they lived a good life. Until Sharon broke their wedding vows. He should have seen it coming.
The shorter phone conversations. The missed calls. The quick texts that didn’t say much. And when he was home, she’d lined up a nonstop schedule of dinners with friends, weekends away with her girlfriends. Why she hadn’t planned those when he was away, he never wondered.
Ryan had been too trusting. Too loyal to ever think his wife was having an affair. Even though he dealt with the scum of the earth in his day job, he liked to think he was coming home to love and honesty.
What a fool he’d been. The worst stab was learning Alex wasn’t his son. At the time he didn’t care what the paternity tests said. He’d had two months to bond with and love his son more than he’d loved anyone else.
He was ready to fight Pete for custody, and then the choice was taken from him. Instead of meeting with an attorney, he was meeting with a funeral home and picking out a two-foot casket that matched Sharon’s.
Ryan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and leaned back in his desk chair.
“Hi, Dad.”
“You sound tired.”
An understatement. “It’s been a long day.” Week, month, year.
“Your sister is insistent on taking your mother and me out for our fortieth anniversary this weekend. We were hoping you’d be able to find time in your schedule to join us.”
He opened his schedule on his laptop and read through his lists of meetings, appointments, and the time he’d set aside for research into his next case. Any minute that wasn’t pre-appointed to him by the FBI he filled with tasks, calls, and investigations.
It was the only way to get through each day. Sitting alone in his empty condo moping wouldn’t change the situation. Wouldn’t change his past.
“I can do that. What time and where?”
“We haven’t seen you since Christmas. Maybe you could stop by the house first before we go to the restaurant?”
He was an ass. A terrible son, brother, and uncle. His family had been nothing but understanding during his troubled marriage and especially after the murders.
They never pushed him to come visit. Never made him feel guilty for not being around. They didn’t deserve his rejection.
“Think you can put me up Friday and Saturday night? If not, I can book a hotel.”
“Your room is always ready and waiting for you. Knowing your mother, she’ll be starting on your favorite foods the second I tell her you’re coming.”
“Tell her not to go to any trouble.”
His father laughed. “You’ve met your mother.” He turned more somber. “I don’t have to tell her you’re coming yet. You know, just in case something at work pops up. I’d hate to disappoint her. We understand how things come up.”
Like Ryan needed to feel anymore guilt, but he didn’t blame his father’s caution. The last three times Ryan had said he’d be down, he made excuses for not going. Once was legitimate. He was sent up to Maine. The other two were because he didn’t want to people.
Being alone suited him better.
“Wednesday is already over, and Thursday and Friday’s schedules are pretty light right now. I can probably pull off a half-day on Friday and make it down by dinner. Tell Mom I miss her peach cobbler.”
He swore he heard his father sniff. “Will do. See you soon, Ryan. We love you.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
If he’d been one hundred percent honest with his father, he could have told him Friday was completely open. They were in a sit and wait mode while the higher ups read through recent reports Heath and his team had filed on his recent cyber-fraud case.
The paperwork could be done from anywhere, why not his parents’ home?
Two days later he was on the road to Delawa
re. He was actually excited to see his parents again, and his niece and nephew. They’d FaceTimed him a few times during the summer, but nothing was the same as picking the little ones up and swinging them over his shoulder.
Six hours later he pulled into the driveway to his family home. The white farm-style home had always been a welcoming one. His mother loved when he and Megan would bring friends over and play in the yard.
They had a great yard. Two acres, a swing set, a tire swing, and even a basketball hoop at the end of the driveway by the house.
His mother came out of the house, rushed down the porch steps, and into Ryan’s arms the moment he stepped out of his car.
“Oh, honey. I’ve missed you.” She buried her head into the crook of his arm. He wasn’t a giant by any means, but at five eleven, he had a solid ten inches on his mom.
“I missed you too, Mom.” He hugged her back and smiled at his father over the top of her head. “Hey, Dad.”
“Welcome home, son.” He hugged Ryan, making a sandwich of his mother. His dad smelled like home. Like barbecue. He’d always loved to cook outside, even in the middle of a blizzard. The familiar smell brought a wave of nostalgia through his body, giving him an utter calmness he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
“Okay, enough of this,” his father said, pulling back. “Let’s get the boy inside so he can eat. He’s withering away to skin and bones.”
It was somewhat true. He hadn’t eaten much since he walked away from Mia the first time. Or, rather, the second to last time when he’d gone back to New York.
“Your dad’s been cooking ribs all day in the smoker out back.”
“I knew I could smell ribs.”
“Those damn things take all day to cook, but man are they worth it.”
His father always complained when he used the smoker. He was a by-the-book cook, making the marinade, rub, and sauce from scratch exactly as the world famous recipe said. His mother got him to try a new recipe once, and he complained about it the entire time, even before tasting the end result.
Ryan could barely tell the difference between the two flavors. His mother’s choice was less spicy, but his father had a heavy hand when it came to the cayenne.
“He made a normal batch for those of us who would like to keep the outer layer on our tongue and our taste buds intact. I’m willing to share with my favorite son.” His mom rubbed his back affectionately before slipping past them and into the house.
“Come grab a beer, and let’s sit outside.” They followed her inside and into the kitchen. His father took out two bottles and held one for Ryan. “Justine, bring your wine outside and join us.”
“In a minute. I need to finish the potato salad and get the corn bread in the oven.”
“Southern barbecue tonight, huh? Please tell me we’re finishing it off with peach cobbler.”
His mother took his face in her hands and pulled him down, kissing both cheeks. “I told you, you’re my favorite son. Anything for you.”
“You mean favorite kid, right?” It was an ongoing joke with them. As long as he could remember, he used to always ask his parents who their favorite child was. When they were little, Megan would get so mad and cry when Ryan would tease her about being the favorite.
Which he was during Megan’s high school years. She’d tested their parents every day, while Ryan basked in being the good middle school kid, following his dad around whenever he could, asking questions about the ocean and marine life.
If it weren’t for his sister’s rebellious years, Ryan may never have bonded with his father in such a manner or learned as much about the ocean. Funny that it was his knowledge of the marine life that led him to Mia.
“My favorite son who can never be replaced. It makes me so happy to have you standing in our family kitchen.”
“Come on. Let’s head outside before your mother gets weepy.” His father kissed her cheek before going out back.
“It’s good to be home, Mom.” He meant it. When he was wallowing in his self-pity, he didn’t want to think about the happy times at home, how loving and nurturing his parents were.
Even Megan and Bill seemed to be solid and steady, and their kids were awesome little people as well. Most people would die to have the family support he had, and he’d walked away from it.
Why?
The ever-burning question.
His father opened the smoker and basted the ribs, then closed the door and adjusted the temperature.
“Another hour and that meat’s gonna fall off the bone.”
“I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had good barbecue.”
“Now that I’m retired, I’ve got more time on my hands. Your mother and I have been using the smoker more frequently. It’s a nice one.”
When he was younger, his father made a makeshift smoker out of his grill, and then invested in a small one that required a lot of attention. A few years ago, Ryan and Megan chipped in to buy their father a state of the art smoker that could hold up to six racks of ribs.
Not that they had many occasions where they’d need to smoke so much meat, but it had become a hobby of their father’s, and they wanted to treat him to something he’d enjoy.
“Glad you’re getting some use out of it.”
“Sure am.” He pointed to the patio chairs and pulled two out from the sun and under the umbrella.
They sat and sipped their beer. Ryan didn’t know what conversation to start. Should he apologize for not being around? Thank his dad for not making him feel guilty about needing his distance?
“A friend of yours called me the other day.”
“Friend?” He hadn’t had one in a long, long time. Not since he caught Pete with Sharon. Ryan had never been one to need a big group of friends. One close guy he could count on to be there for him.
That was what he thought he had with Pete. Inseparable since third grade. They hadn’t talked in over seven years. It was a friendship he had no desire to strike up again. Ryan was a trusting man. Loyal to a fault. Unfortunately, it wasn’t reciprocated.
Dumb as shit for letting himself be lied to by the two people closest to him, he never recovered from that. Never cared to make friends and dove into work instead.
“Sure. Nice girl.”
“Girl?”
He hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Sharon and sure as hell didn’t have any women in his life he’d considered a friend.
One he wanted to, but he refused to think about her.
“She’s a children’s author.”
“No.” Ryan looked around the backyard as if he expected her to come around the corner of the house. His heart skipped a beat, lodging itself in his throat.
“Says you helped her with her research, and she even wrote about you in her acknowledgments. Sweet thing.”
“I, uh, haven’t talked to her in a long time.”
Two months, eight days.
“That’s what she said. She said you talked about me and told her some stories about our road trips.” His dad smiled with pride. “I filled her in on a few others too.”
“You didn’t.” He knew by his father’s chuckle that he had. The thought of Mia and his father carrying on a conversation and reminiscing about his childhood made his stomach do funky things. In a good way.
“Not my fault you believed the myth that human urine is the best way to ease the sting of a jellyfish. Surprised you didn’t tell her you had firsthand experience that it was a fallacy.”
“Dad.”
He laughed again, sipping his beer in between chuckles. “She got a kick out of that one.”
“I’m sure she did.” He could picture Mia grinning ear to ear with that story. He could hear her loud, infectious laugh, and he imagined the teasing she’d give him ... if they were to ever see each other again.
“You met her when working up in Maine?”
“Yeah.” Ryan drained the rest of his beer and set it on the table, maybe a bit too harshly.
“Go
t the same impression from her as well.”
“Impression?”
He nodded, setting his empty bottle next to Ryan’s. “We did that Skype thing. Pretty girl, your Mia.”
“She’s not my Mia.”
“Mmhm,” he said. “She thinks pretty highly of you.”
“Everything I learned about marine life I learned from you. I told her that.”
“She said that as well.”
“Dad.” Ryan scratched at his scalp. “What you’re hoping for is not—”
“She reacted the same way.”
“See? Don’t go poking around playing matchmaker. Besides, she lives eight hours away.”
“It’s like you two have some telekinetic thing going on. That’s what she said.”
“Maybe you should listen to us. We are—we were just friends. Ran into each other at the beach one day, and I helped by answering some questions she had. That’s it.”
“I like her.”
“She’s easy to like.” Frustrating at times, but easy—too easy—to like.
“She has a lot of respect for you. Thinks quite highly of you.”
“Don’t go assuming things, Dad. I’m getting another beer; want one?” He pushed his chair back and stood.
“I want you happy, Ryan. You need to move on with your life. Believe in yourself, trust in yourself and what you do. What happened to Mia wasn’t your fault. She doesn’t blame you.”
“She told you about that?”
His father stood and placed a hand on his shoulder, the weight of the world heavy in his eyes. “The first few video chats were about her book. Your mother joined us as well. We’ve formed a ... a sort of friendship.”
A friendship. Hell, he hadn’t even formed a friendship with Mia. The little time they spent together was either under a different persona, or they were arguing or having sex. His chest tightened with jealousy at the bond his parents had formed with the woman he ... the woman who had the potential to make him feel again.
“Every time she mentioned you her voice would crack. When we started our Skype calls, I could see the sadness in her eyes. When I told her stories of you, those eyes of hers lit up. Your mother was corresponding with her on her blog long before she knew her connection to you. We follow the goings-on in Crystal Cove. You forget your mother spent just as many summers up there when she was a kid as you and your sister had. When Mia told us about the kidnapping, there was no anger in her voice or in her eyes. She misses you. She’s hurting too.”
Something More (A Well Paired Novel) Page 19