“Should we wrap this up? Keep it warm.”
Peyton looked at Ryder but her thoughts were with her friend. Was Emily sick? She couldn’t recall a time during their friendship when she’d been under the weather. She was a health nut with a capital N, but even the healthiest of people got knocked down now and then.
“Peyton?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“Never mind,” Ryder huffed. He scooted back from the table and took the plates into the kitchen. Sighing, she followed. She grabbed the foil from the drawer and together they wrapped the plates and set them inside the cooling oven.
He was close. Too close. And they were alone. Sure, Emily and Adam were a wall away, but from the sounds of it, they wouldn’t be concerned with their guests anytime soon.
“So this is how it’s going to be? You barely meeting my eyes. I think I preferred the anger over the awkwardness.”
God, if only she could go back to complete anger. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It shouldn’t be this way, but last night—”
“—was amazing, hot—”
“Shouldn’t have happened.”
…
Last night shouldn’t have happened. Ryder knew that, too. At least in regard to the timing of last night. They were both fumbling through his return and the jumbled emotions didn’t help. Still, hearing her regret while she stood less than three feet from him sucked the air out of the room. There was so much baggage between them. It made conversing like normal people impossible, and yet in the bedroom, the communication between their bodies hadn’t changed. Why couldn’t they translate that connection into verbal communication? Into a friendship? Something that would make the next weeks, months, and even years easier on them.
He could tell her why he left. It wouldn’t change that he did, but maybe it would give her new insight to the past and possibly the future. The pain of learning about Mel had eased, so maybe the pain of him leaving her would ease if she knew more.
But not here. Not now.
“Maybe you’re right, but it did happen. We’re adults, Peyton. Adults with a child together. We need to be able to be in the same room without playing Where’s Waldo.”
She chuckled. “When did you get so wise?”
He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “Ten years hugging a tree in the cold will sharpen any man’s brain. Either that or turn him into a raving lunatic.” He nudged her. “Aren’t you glad I came back wiser?”
She nudged him back. “Jury’s still out.”
His arm burned. Her touch was brief and innocuous and yet he craved it again. He turned toward her, and she met his gaze. Questions, concern, and arousal mixing in the green depths. Ryder moistened his lips and leaned down. Peyton stretched up on her toes, meeting him halfway. Their lips brushed and the rush of blood to his head left him dizzy. He hadn’t been a monk the past ten years, and he imagined neither had she, but her lips, her body, her scent were a combination that no other woman had ever possessed, and he was starting to think no other woman would.
Another brush of the lips, and she placed her hand on his chest, searing her warmth into his heart. He tried to move closer, but she held firm.
“We can’t do this. Not anymore. Not ever again.”
He looked down into her face, upturned toward his. Her lips rosy, her cheeks flush. She had her reasons, but he would bet any amount of money they had nothing to do with not wanting him.
“I’m not agreeing to that.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she stepped way, leaving him awash in cold. Both physically and emotionally.
“It’s not your call to make.”
He would have argued, but a door opened and a moment later Adam and Emily came into view. Adam’s arm was wrapped around his wife, supporting her. Emily was pale, her hair wet, where Ryder assumed water had been splashed.
His host managed a wan smile. “I’m so sorry about that.”
Ryder waved his hand. “No worries. Is there anything I can do? Help with?”
Adam helped Emily to the couch and Ryder followed Peyton into the living room. He didn’t want to sit or chat or deal with whatever the rest of the evening held. He wanted to go back to the cottage and figure out his feelings. His way forward concerning Peyton.
“No. It’s passed. Although fish will have to be off the menu for a while.”
Peyton gasped, and Ryder glanced at her. He couldn’t read her expression. It was part joy and part fear. She was wholly focused on Emily and Adam. He looked back to see both of them beaming so bright the wise men might be knocking at the door in the next minute. What was he missing?
“How far? How long have you known?” Peyton asked, skirting around the couch and sitting next to her friend. The two women embraced, and puzzle pieces aligned.
Emily was pregnant.
Suddenly the space started to close in. Ryder needed out. Away from the happy couple and Peyton. He took a step back and came up against the support beam. Three faces turned his way.
“I’m going to head out and let you all celebrate. Thank you for dinner and”—he swallowed hard—“congratulations.”
Ryder turned on his boot heel and walked out the door, swiping his hat and coat from the rack on his way.
He got as far as the porch before pain and jealousy roared through him like a freight train. He hated Adam at that moment. A man he’d known for less than twenty-four hours. Who had invited him over for a home-cooked meal. He wanted to rip that smug, content, fatherly look off his face. Adam would be there. He would see the changes in his wife’s body. He would feel the first kick. He would rub her feet. He would be there when she gave birth, and he would hold his newborn baby in his arms.
Ryder pounded the porch railing. It wasn’t fair. He would never see it. Never get it back. Moments with Peyton and Mel. This was why he and Peyton would never find a relationship balance. Because he didn’t deserve it or her. His pride, his insistence on keeping his whereabouts a secret, his plan to prove his father wrong, it had cost him everything. In leaving her with no explanation, he denied himself the very moments he had always promised he would give his own child.
A red haze filtered through his vision, and he knew he needed to get out of there.
His boots hit the grass just as the door opened and light spilled out behind him. He kept moving. He knew it was Peyton. His body was humming just at her being within a ten-foot radius. But she was the last person he wanted to see at that particular moment.
He reached his truck and yanked open the door.
“Ryder, wait.”
He slid into the seat and pulled the door shut. The engine turned over as the passenger door opened and Peyton slid in.
“Please get out.”
“No. Talk to me. Why did you bolt out of there? It was rude.”
“Peyton, I need you to get out of this truck and go home. Or better yet, go back in with your friends and celebrate.”
“What the hell is your problem? One minute you’re shoving your tongue down my throat ready to feel me up and the next you’re practically tossing me out of a moving vehicle.”
Ryder growled and cut the engine. “What do you want? You called a halt to things and I halted things.”
“This isn’t about the kiss. This is about the Speedy Gonzales act you pulled in the cabin. Emily and Adam are great people and their celebration was marred by your rapid exit. Emily thinks her hasty run from the table is to blame, and she spent the last three minutes apologizing for ruining the dinner. There were tears, Ryder. You can’t mess with pregnant women like that.”
The red haze returned. “I don’t know what the hell I can or cannot do with pregnant women because I’ve never been around them! So excuse me if my manners weren’t up to par. I’ll apologize to Emily another time. Now if your lecturing is done, I need to leave.”
“No.”
“No? If you don’t get out of this truck, Peyton, I’m taking you back to Sky Lake and I don’t
give a rat’s ass how you find your way back home.”
“What happened to you?” she whispered, then opened the door, leaving him alone just as asked. The minute the door slammed his body deflated at the loss of her presence. He should talk to her. Explain. His harsh words stemmed from the pain. From his hatred of himself. None of this was her fault. She needed to know he believed that.
His hand reached for the door handle and froze.
Yes, he might have made a mistake in not talking to her all those years ago, but to go after her now would also be the wrong move. There were too many emotions on both their ends to have a civil conversation. And an argument might lead them to the same place it led them last night.
…
Peyton let herself into her house and shut the door, sliding to the floor once behind it. She should have come home the minute Emily let on Ryder was there. They couldn’t be in the same vicinity as one another. It was either a hump fest or a knockdown, drag out fight. They’d always been passionate with one another, but it had been the fun kind. They’d been able to communicate. They’d finished each other’s sentences. They’d had what she thought was the perfect, balanced relationship. They may have argued, but they would talk it out and then make up.
Pushing up off the floor, she walked down the small hall and went into Mel’s room. Her fingers trailed over her daughter’s bed and the nightstand piled with books. She collapsed in the small bungee chair in the corner and closed her eyes. This had to stop. Not only for her sake, but for Mel’s as well. She needed to get a grip on her interaction with Ryder before Friday. Mel deserved to see her parents getting along. Not sniping at each other every time something bugged one of them. Especially when she had no idea what the hell had set Ryder off.
It should have been joyous. Sure, men occasionally had trouble with women and pregnancy, but Ryder wasn’t the typical stoic, no-emotions-displayed male. He’d barely managed a congratulations before bolting. It made no sense. And then in his truck when she called him out, his response hadn’t been about Emily, it had been about pregnant women in general.
Peyton’s eyes flew open. How had she missed it? He’d contained his pain the past two days, but when had it always seemed to come between them? Anytime Mel or something relating to Mel came up. And what better reminder of what he’d missed out on than a happy couple celebrating their first pregnancy.
She massaged her temples as the pressure of their history pounded through her head. It was a freaking minefield. For both of them, although she seemed to have a better grasp than he did. Regardless, they needed a plan, a map through the field so to speak. It all needed airing out. Not snippets of wrongdoings or resentment.
They needed to put everything out on the table between them.
Then she would know the triggers. She would have a plan and could direct their future interactions, careful to avoid what existed simmering under the surface with them. They would put a united front on in front of Mel. Their daughter would never see anything but her parents getting along as friends, her well-being and adjustment foremost in their minds.
Plan made, Peyton jumped up and went into her room. Rummaging through her hope chest, she pulled out a cedar box. It wasn’t the answer to everything, but it would be a start. Tomorrow she was ready to do battle with Ryder Marks. He damn well better have built up sufficient armor over the years, because she was preparing to slay him with all she had. And she suspected he would be launching quite a few jabs her way as well.
Chapter Nine
“Ryder?”
Peyton hadn’t needed to speak. Ryder had known she was approaching long before her boots crunched the pebbles lining the shore of the lake. And he’d been expecting some type of confrontation. The dinner last night had been an epic fail of two people who needed to find a way to get along for the sake of their daughter. He imagined Peyton had started planning this little rendezvous two seconds after she’d exited the cab of his truck.
She stepped up beside him and his body urged him to sidle closer. He’d be damned if he listened to it.
“I love this time of day. The way the ridge reflects on the surface.”
He grunted. Not because he didn’t have an opinion. Honestly he’d thought of the reflection of Sky Lake often, but he didn’t know where she was headed with this and the quickest away to get Peyton to reveal her plans was to let her lead.
“I’m sorry.”
Shock had his head whipping around and his gaze pinning hers. Amusement sparkled in the green depths. Yep, she was totally following her plan, complete with the unexpected ambush.
“For what?”
“For not recognizing why last night became so hard for you.”
Ryder crossed his arms and looked back at the reflective waters. “My issue. No apologies needed.”
A small hand touched his arm and her compassion flowed through him. His body tensed, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from shrugging it off.
“It’s our issue, Ryder. And we need to air it. Find a way to handle these moments, before Friday.”
God, why did she have to make sense? Seemed childish but there it was. “I just need time, Peyton. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Hands gripped his chin and forced him to look at her. Fire blazed in the pale depths. “We don’t have time. You’re lucky to have the brief reprieve we do. Mel deserves two parents who love her and want the best for her. She does not deserve a sulky bear of a father who keeps beating himself up. She’ll end up blaming herself for it.”
He gripped her fingers and pulled them away. The heat of her touch lingering and flowing to join the anger pulsing through his veins. “Sulky? You think I’m sulking. Of course I’m beating myself up. I am to blame, Peyton. I lost too much. Ten years that Adam will have. Ten years that you had and my parents had. I deserve to sulk. I deserve to feel like this. It’s my punishment.”
She crossed her arms and jutted out her chin, and he waited for the denial.
“Maybe you’re right. I’m not going to discount your feelings or your pain. But you will have to let it stop ruling you. You’re here. The choices of the past have been made and this is the hand you’re playing with. If you continue to view your pain as penance you will miss out on everything in front of you. Everything you worked for all these years. I still don’t know why you left, but I believe in the man I loved, and I believe that your decision made back then was one you felt you had to make.”
He stared at the surface of the lake, Peyton’s words rolling over him searching for an entrance into his soul. If he let go of the pain, let go of the resentment and self-hatred, what then?
“Where does that leave me? Us?” Not sure he wanted her answer or the plan he was sure she had.
“It leaves us here. Right now. Not ten years ago, and not ten years in the future. I can’t take back you not knowing about Mel any more than you can take back leaving. It’s not fair. But it is what it is.”
“So that’s it. I can’t get angry at myself or upset.”
Another touch. More compassion as her hand found his and squeezed. “No, Ryder. You can get angry and upset. But you get angry and upset with me. Talk with me. Put it on me. I am strong enough to take it. We used to be good at that. Communicating. I wish you’d talked to me all those years ago. I would have listened. But I need you to talk with me now. Mel needs you to talk with me. None of this is on her. Our problems are ours.”
Ryder yanked her to him and they held on to one another. He could do this. Find a way with Peyton. The strong woman could handle his pain and anger. She would weather it just as she’d weathered raising their daughter.
“Come on, let’s walk the lake.”
The strolled side by side and Peyton talked of Mel. Stories of her childhood, her illnesses, her personality, and Ryder absorbed it as a parched man who’d discovered water in the desert.
The day, the conversation, the memories, the companionship all combined to bring a little closure to the past and a pathway to their
future. They’d reached the benches on the far side of the lake and by mutual decision settled side by side into one.
The place held meaning to them. The sight of their first night together. Did she remember?
As if on cue, Peyton smiled and said, “Now don’t get fresh here, Mr. Marks.”
Ryder barked out a laugh and he smiled at the easiness on her expression.
“It was a pretty spectacular night, if I do say so myself.”
Peyton shrugged, and Ryder narrowed his gaze. “Don’t tempt me, Ms. Brooks.”
She held her hands up in surrender. “Spectacular all the way.”
They both looked away. “I just hope it doesn’t get too changed with the sale.”
“Sale?” It took every ounce of strength to not fidget in his seat and keep his gaze firmly planted on the water. The last thing he needed right now was for Peyton to find out about his role in the sale. They were on uneven if not bumpy footing and telling her would mean spilling details about his leaving. Having just found a measure of peace between them, he didn’t want to reintroduce the issue. But he would. He should before Mel got home on Friday. Before his father returned. She needed to know, and he prayed she would understand.
“Technically, we no longer own this property.”
He needed out of there. She was too astute. Too in tune to him even after all this time.
He shifted forward and stood. A clear case of “there’s more to this reaction than I can figure out” spilled across her heart-shaped features. Before she could question him, Max Fields, one of the permanent ranch hands, came through the trees, leading some guests. Peyton rose from the bench and stood next to Ryder as Max charmed the trio of beauties with a story about how the herd of wild mustangs supposedly started from a horse that escaped from Sky Lake. Ryder swallowed his smile. He’d started that rumor when he was fourteen, trying to do the exact same thing Max was. Impress a few girls.
As they headed off the way they’d come, Peyton’s gaze came back to him with a question. She hadn’t forgotten his unusual response to her mention of the sale.
The Cowboy's Homecoming Surprise Page 8