What was wrong with me? I’d played house with the man for a day, and all of a sudden I was acting possessive and insane.
I plopped back down, rubbing my throbbing knee. “So you’re married?”
“No.” And again with the confused look.
“Why do you look like I should know this already?” I asked.
“I didn’t. I just…figured you thought better of me. I wouldn’t hang out with you while I had a wife somewhere.”
Okay, well, when he said it like that, I felt like an asshole. “I’m sorry. I do think well of you. My brain just…fried a little at the mention of a wife.”
He smiled. “I can understand that.” When he didn’t attempt to say any more, I stared at him disbelievingly.
“Ransom,” I said firmly. “If you’re not married and you’re not divorced, what are you?”
“Widowed.”
My whole body locked in place. There had been many times in my life where I would’ve characterized myself as having frozen in place, but I’d never had a complete, all-systems shutdown like this one before. I was pretty sure even my heart had ceased to beat.
After coming back online, my lips moved a few times without any sound coming out. Finally I was able to push a few through my mouth. “Oh my God. Ransom, I’m—I’m so sorry.”
Am I? I mean, of course I was. Dying was obviously horrible, and I’d imagine losing a spouse at a young age was devastating, but part of me was legitimately relieved. I’d never worried about my soul burning in hell before, but I was most definitely concerned now.
He sighed and settled back into the couch. “It’s a complicated story. Emily was Melissa and Matt’s daughter. When they took me in, Emily and I immediately became inseparable. It was only ever platonic, but I loved her. No one had ever had my back like Emily.”
As he spoke, I could see the pain etched in the furrow of his brow and the downturn of his mouth. His adoration of her was almost palpable, and it hurt me to see him so hurt. But I didn’t move, because he seemed to have gone to another place in order to tell me this story, and I didn’t want to break him out of it.
“She’d been diagnosed with leukemia when she was eleven. Before I met her. She’d gone into remission a couple times, but ultimately, it always came back. When she was seventeen, the doctors told her she had three to six months. I was heartbroken. But Emily…” He laughed, the sound jarring in the midst of such a heartrending story. “All she cared about was she’d never fall in love and get married like stupid-ass Bella and Edward. I mean, their love story isn’t even a good one.”
He sobered. “But I think there was something to it for her. How Bella came back stronger after dying. How Edward gave her that strength.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I dunno. I’m overthinking it. Anyway, one night she was making me watch those terrible movies and complaining about how she’d never get to wear a wedding dress, and I just…proposed. Said we should get married so she could have all that.”
He laughed again before he looked at me, his smile at war with the glistening in his eyes. “She told me I was crazy. But I didn’t see what the big deal was. Granted, I’d never love her in the same way Edward loved Bella—we’d never had those kinds of feelings for each other—but I loved her with the same fierceness, ya know? It wasn’t romantic, but it was still powerful.
“So we got married. Matt and Melissa were a little hesitant at first, but they knew how much it meant to her. Understood why we wanted to do it. We were married in a small wedding in their backyard. Emily got to wear the dress of her dreams and have a first dance and all the bells and whistles.” He paused and sighed heavily. “She died five weeks later. I left two weeks after that. It was…too much. For all of us. I love Melissa and Matt, and I know they love me, but the grief… It’s always there, but it’s damn near suffocating when I’m with them. Emily made us all promise we’d keep living our lives, but she was their only daughter—their only real child. They lost the light of their life and were left with a son-in-law they never asked for.”
“That’s not fair,” I interjected. “They fostered you. You were more than just some random guy they picked up off the street.”
Ransom smiled and patted my leg. “Easy, Tiger. They’re not bad people. Melissa still calls to check up on me. But the relationship is…different now. Yeah, they took me in, but our bond was only strong because of Em. With her gone, the relationship was bound to suffer.”
“Well, I think that’s shitty.”
He shrugged. “Some things are the way they are. I don’t want to waste time worrying or being angry about things I can’t change. I just want to keep living my life the best I can, like Emily told me to. It feels like the best way I can honor her.”
“You’re…” I shook my head, not sure of how to adequately describe what I was feeling. “You’re amazing, Ransom. Truly. You’ve gone through so much, and you’re still just…you. Funny, sweet, dependable Ransom. I feel like I’m a better person just by being in your orbit.”
“I think you’re putting me on too high of a pedestal,” he said before smirking. “I’m into it.”
I laughed, the sound deep and husky. A combination of feeling a little raw and being a tad overwhelmed by the emotions swirling around inside me. Suddenly, I felt like if I didn’t kiss Ransom, I might die. And even though that was a truly poor choice in thoughts in light of what we’d just discussed, I couldn’t help it. This was a man who gave so freely of himself, and I didn’t know how else to express my sincere gratitude for the fact that I got to spend time with him.
Ransom licked his lips, and his eyes became hooded, as if he could sense the direction my thoughts had gone. But he stayed still, evidently waiting for me to make it clear.
“I really want to kiss you right now, but I’m not sure I should.” The sentiment was blunt, but at least it was honest.
“Why not?”
“Because we were just talking about your wife? Because my life is a dumpster fire with Brad as the gasoline? Because we both have a lot going on with school and work? I’m not sure I’m in a good place to start anything? Take your pick.”
“Excuses will always be there for anything we do.”
“But they’re good excuses,” I argued.
“It’s never a good excuse if it keeps you from going after what you want.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed. There was a good chance I’d cross a line tonight that I’d think better of tomorrow for one or all the reasons I’d listed.
But he was looking at me with that sweet smile and those hopeful eyes, and I couldn’t resist. I’d worry about later…later.
I closed the distance between us, pressing my mouth to his. The contact made me gasp, causing my lips to part.
Ransom took full advantage of the opening, pushing his tongue into my mouth and tangling his with mine.
This wasn’t our first kiss, but it somehow felt that way. Everything was out in the open now. We both knew exactly who we were kissing, messy baggage and all. And as we devoured each other, I wanted to get closer. Needed to. So I pushed up and threw a leg over his lap so I was straddling him.
I felt his hard length pushing into me as I sat on him, and lust burned through me. I wove my hands into his hair and held on as he moved his down my back until they slipped beneath the hem of my shirt.
Moaning at the way he kneaded my skin, I broke the kiss so I could get a breath. Ransom trailed openmouthed kisses down my neck as I ground down onto him. He moved one of his hands around to fondle my breast over my shirt, and my eyes rolled heavenward.
When I dropped my gaze back to Ransom, I registered where we were. Not that I’d forgotten necessarily, but there was nothing quite like my eyes catching on a family portrait of my boss hanging on the wall.
“Ransom,” I whispered.
He hummed at me but didn’t stop his exploration of my body.
“We can’t do this here.”
All I got was another hum, so I gripped his hair and pulled
.
When his face was tilted toward mine, he looked dazed. It was a great feeling to know I made him look that way.
“We’re in the middle of Harry’s living room with Cindy asleep upstairs.”
It took a minute for reality to set back in, but I saw the moment when what I said registered. But that look was quickly replaced with one of determination. He stood, me in his arms, and began walking toward the stairs.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Where are we going?”
“Master bedroom.”
I gasped, scandalized. “We can’t do anything…sexual”—I hissed the word—“in Harry’s room.”
“I’ll clean the sheets first thing in the morning.”
“That’s not—”
Ransom stopped halfway up the stairs and turned so I was pressed against the wall. He ground himself into me and kissed me deeply. Then he pulled back just far enough to look in my eyes as his forehead rested against mine.
“If you really want to stop, I will. But if you’re just searching for excuses…” He let his sentence hang there, waiting for me to decide what I wanted.
I stared at him for a moment before drawing him into another kiss. He took that for the answer I’d intended it to be, because he resumed our trek to the bedroom.
When we got there, he walked to the bed and gently put me down on it before going back to lock the door.
“What do you want?” he asked as he made his way back to me.
“You.”
He crawled onto the mattress, causing me to lie back as he settled above me. “You have me. But I want to be clear about how far we want things to go.”
I stared up at his earnest face, knowing that if I said I just wanted to cuddle, he would. The future might come between us in any number of ways, but tonight we’d pushed everything else aside. And I wanted all of him in case I never had the opportunity again.
“I want everything.”
He smiled before pressing a chaste kiss to my lips and getting up from the bed.
I darted forward, sitting upright. Had he somehow misconstrued “everything”?
He reached into his jeans and withdrew his wallet, pulling a condom from it and tossing it onto the bed. Then he began removing his clothes, slowly, but not in the overexaggerated way he’d done when I’d seen him at Sophia’s bachelorette party. This was only for me, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from him as more and more skin became exposed.
His tight abs and corded muscles were covered with taut, golden skin that was smooth and perfect. When he was in only his boxers, he moved closer to the bed, reaching down and unbuttoning my jeans. I lay back, allowing him to disrobe me as he wanted.
He pulled my jeans down my legs before putting a knee on the bed so he could get close enough to pull off my shirt. Left in only my thong and bra, the cool air of the room caused goose bumps to pop up, but the searing way Ransom looked at me quickly warmed me.
He seemed unsure about where to go from here, as if he was worried he was moving too quickly. I arched my back so I could slip my arms around and unclasp my bra. Throwing it somewhere off the bed, I settled back and let Ransom look his fill.
His reached out to tweak a nipple before drifting his hands down to my underwear, pausing for a second as he looked at me with a question in his eyes.
I nodded, and he pulled the flimsy fabric down my legs, letting it fall to the floor. He quickly shed his own boxers before settling back on top of me.
Having his weight press me into the mattress was likely as close as I could get to experiencing heaven on earth. We let our hands roam as we kissed and ground against each other.
And when he finally put on the condom and pressed inside, all I felt was relief. It was like we’d been building toward this moment since we’d met, and finally getting there made me feel more content than I had in a long time.
Neither of us lasted as long as we probably wanted to. We were too desperate for it. When we finally crested, we did so together. Pleasure washed over me, pulling all my muscles tight before relaxing them to the point of bonelessness.
Our heavy pants filled the air as we stayed close, soaking up each other’s warmth, trying to keep reality from intruding on our perfect moment.
R A N S O M
The next morning, I woke early, the sun just barely lighting the sky outside—which I could see past the curtains we forgot to close. I hoped we didn’t give a free show to any of the neighbors. Taylor was next to me, her blond hair fanned over the pillow, her breaths still deep and even.
Last night had been incredible. While I’d be lying to say I hadn’t been wanting to sleep with her for a while, it was so much more than that. There was something about her that drew me in, and I hoped to hell she felt it too. I didn’t think last night would be a one-off, but I’d been wrong before. The only thing I could do was hope she wanted more.
I slipped out of bed, dressed, made a stop in the bathroom to take care of business and freshen up a bit, and then eased Cindy’s door open enough so I could poke my head in. She was still sleeping soundly, and I found myself standing there watching her.
I’d never imagined this for myself—being a caregiver to a child. I loved working with kids, but part of that was my need to make a difference, to pay the kindness Melissa and Matt had shown me forward. Fatherhood… I’d never thought that was for me.
I was a good guy. I wasn’t delusional about that. But it was so fucking easy to screw a kid up. It was a responsibility I didn’t want. Or hadn’t wanted. Now I wasn’t so sure.
Cindy’s mom was clearly not perfect, but Cindy loved her anyway. My mom was as far from perfect as a human could get, but—and this pained me to admit to myself—I loved her anyway. And I hadn’t done a terrible job of watching Cindy. Granted, I hadn’t fed her dinner until after ten on Friday, but Taylor and I had found a groove with her yesterday.
And that was likely the difference. Taryn and my mom had been doing it on their own. And Taryn was managing that a helluva lot better than my mom ever had, but I hadn’t given enough credit to single parents before. I’d screwed up in a variety of ways Friday night, but I’d done my best. And sure, people’s best varied. Taryn’s best was better than my mom’s, and someone else’s best might outshine them both.
But maybe it was only fair to give credit where credit was due.
Life with my mom hadn’t been all bad. There had been beach trips, carnival visits, home-cooked meals, and surprise gifts during the good times, when she’d managed to keep her demons at bay. Maybe we could have some of those times again. Maybe she didn’t have to be all good or all bad. Maybe I could learn to be okay with her being both.
I closed Cindy’s door before hurrying downstairs and grabbing my phone from where I’d left it on the coffee table last night. Thankfully it still had half a charge, so I was able to type out a text.
Are you awake?
My mom had always been an early riser. Even high out of her mind, she’d still managed to get up before me most days. Or maybe she’d just never gone to sleep.
The reply came almost instantly.
Yes. Are you okay?
It was such a motherly thing to ask, and my eyes burned as I realized I wanted that. Melissa had been a great mother to me, but I wanted the woman who gave birth to me to give a shit too. She couldn’t do that consistently when I’d been a kid, but perhaps she could do it now. Or maybe I was setting myself up for a crushing disappointment.
But I’d told Taylor not to let excuses get in the way of going for what she wanted. I could follow my own advice. I clicked on my mom’s name and held the phone up to my ear.
“Ransom? Is everything all right?”
“Hi, yeah, everything’s fine. I just… I want to try. To know you again. If you’re sober,” I added hastily because I wasn’t an idiot. I already knew who Kari was on drugs, and I had no interest in rekindling a relationship with that version of her.
“I’m”—I heard her take a sharp breath—“I’m
so happy to hear that. And yes, I’m sober. I’ll even take a drug test if you want.”
“No, it’s…that’s okay. If you say you are, then I believe you.”
“Thank you. I know that’s more than I deserve.”
It probably was, but I didn’t think agreeing with her would move us forward in the way I was hoping.
“So we can talk. Get to know each other again.”
“I’d love that.”
“Okay, good.”
“Good.”
I could hear the smile in her voice, even on a single word, and it filled something inside me.
I was sure most people whose parents were addicts wondered at one point or another why their parents chose drugs over them. And logically I knew it was much more complex than that, but my inner eight-year-old would always wonder why I wasn’t enough for her. So hearing her sound so happy at the prospect of getting to know me was…warming. And comforting. Like being wrapped in a favorite blanket fresh out of the dryer.
“I know this is probably too much too fast,” she said, and I instantly steeled myself against whatever she was going to say next. “But my mom’s family is having a reunion in two weeks. It would give you a chance to see some family you haven’t seen in years. God, you probably don’t even remember them. You couldn’t have been more than four the last time you saw any of them. But they know all about you, of course. And they’d love to see you. We all would. Sorry, I’m rambling. I just wanted you to know you are more than welcome, but no pressure.”
“Thanks. That’s probably…too much. At least right now. But I appreciate the invite.”
“Okay, well, the offer stands if you change your mind. But you’re right. It’s a lot to ask.”
“Let’s start with you and me talking for a while, and then we can build up to…meeting up and stuff.”
“That works for me.”
I heard a creak on the stairs and whirled around to see Cindy and Taylor hand-in-hand at the bottom of the stairs looking at me. Cindy still looked half asleep, but Taylor looked vaguely concerned. Probably because I was on the phone at seven a.m. on a Sunday.
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