by Diana Gardin
“I’ve been wanting to watch this one about this couple who’re stuck in space on board a ship where they’re the only two people awake.”
Sci-fi. Awesome.
Not my thing. At all.
“Start it.”
With a giddy smile, she hits play.
“You’re into science fiction?” My eyes flick to her legs as she pulls them underneath her and leans back against the cushions.
Frannie looks over at me, grasping a lock of hair between her fingers and pulling. “I wouldn’t say I’m really into it. But for some reason, this movie looked good. You?”
I shake my head. “Not really. But if this one doesn’t have aliens shooting at each other, we might be okay.”
A giggle escapes her, and I like the sound. A lot.
We both focus on the movie, but I can’t help being hyperfocused on Frannie. It’s my job. I’m aware of her position on the couch beside me; I’m focused on how I’m positioned related to the door in case of an intruder. But it’s more than that. The scent of her fruity shampoo as it wafts toward my nose when she leans toward me, the intake of air when she gasps at something happening onscreen. The slide of skin against skin when she crosses and uncrosses her legs.
I’m aware of all of it.
And it’s damn near driving me insane.
8
FRANNIE
I can barely focus on the movie.
Everything about Ryder is a distraction.
Yesterday, I told him that I needed him to be careful with me. And he’s followed that direction to the letter. But now, all I want is more. More of his gentle touches. More of his strong arms wrapped around me. More of his attention, focused solely on me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
As he sits beside me on the couch, watching the movie, the smell of the body wash he uses in the shower surrounds me. It’s spicy and fresh at the same time, mixed with a scent that’s so wholly Ryder. It’s taking over my senses, driving me crazy.
Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, I watch the muscles ripple in the arm stretching across the back of the couch. And I want to know what those corded muscles would feel like folded around my body. An instinct deep down inside me knows that those muscles, those hands, those arms, would never be used to hurt me. It’s a direct contrast to the way I felt when I was with Eli last. That safety, that security wasn’t there.
With Ryder? It is.
He looks over at me, catching my eyes locked on him. I’m stuck there, staring, instead of glancing away. He freezes, reading the expression in my gaze.
We both sit, watching each other, neither of us saying a word. The tension between us stretches tight, a rope in danger of breaking if either of us pulls too hard.
“Frannie?” His voice is low. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
I swallow. “What do you want me to say?”
He shifts, his body turning toward mine. Slowly, like he’s afraid he’ll scare me away, he uses the same gesture he did at the pool yesterday. The back of his hand grazes my cheek, and his touch sends sparks shooting along my skin. He’s so gentle, taking such care with me that my heart squeezes. The last thing I want is to think about Eli right now, but I can’t help but compare them. Ryder touches me like I’m something precious to him. Eli always touched me like I was a possession he was careless with.
I close my eyes, lost in the sensation of this one small caress.
The rasp of his voice has them flying open again. “Tell me what you want, Frannie.”
“I want…”
Will he give me what I ask for? I’m not even sure if he wants the same thing I do in this moment. What if he refuses? There are a million reasons he could.
“I want you to kiss me, Ryder.”
His eyes widen for just a second before he closes the last bit of distance between us. His lips brush against mine once, twice, like he’s giving me the chance to feel him before finally fitting his mouth more firmly against mine.
Ryder kisses me, and oh God, he does it exactly like he does everything else: with precision and expert control. His mouth fits over mine like he was made to kiss me, and his tongue licks at the seam of my lips until I moan, opening for him. He sweeps inside and explores me with hunger, our tongues tangling gently at first, and then with more intensity.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, angling my head so he can deepen the kiss, groaning as I take his bottom lip into my mouth and suck.
My senses are working on overdrive, threatening to explode as everything becomes Thorn Ryder. His scent, the hum of approval he makes deep in his throat as he kisses me, the feel of his hands and his mouth and the nearness of his body to mine. It’s all almost too much.
But it’s also not nearly enough.
I need more.
He pulls away slowly, only far enough to let my forehead rest against his. “Jesus fuck, woman. Trying to kill me?”
I smile. “Maybe. Can…can you take me to the bedroom?”
He goes still, and then pulls back so he can really look at me. “You sure?”
There are a lot of reasons why this is a bad idea. But I don’t want to listen to a single one of them right now.
“I’m more than sure, Ryder.”
We stand and Ryder pulls me against him. A groan escapes his throat as my body presses flush against his.
It feels like this is where I’m supposed to be.
The thought flashes into my head right before he erases it by catching my bottom lip between his teeth. We fuse together, legs, hips, and mouth, and heat surges, crackles, fizzles between us like the air just before a lightning storm. His hands cup my ass as he lifts me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and he turns and carries me into the master bedroom.
Laying me down on the center of the bed, Ryder takes a step back and just looks at me lying there. Self-consciousness hovers, threatening to cover me up and make me shy, but he speaks before it can take over.
“Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are? Been waiting for this since I met you outside Snyder and Indy’s apartment. I tried so hard to forget about this attraction.” As the words pour from his mouth, he pulls his T-shirt off over his head and loosens the tie on his athletic shorts. When they fall off his hips, his hard, erect cock springs free.
My gaze falls there before skimming over his legs and torso and then finally making it back to his face. “I never thought…” I sit up on the bed and reach for the hem of my shirt, slowly lifting it over my stomach and chest before dragging it off my head and dropping it on the floor. I don’t break eye contact with Ryder, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth as I reach around behind me, undoing the clasp on my bra. It falls to the bed beside me and I toss it to the floor. Then I shimmy out of my shorts, sliding them off my legs and tossing them down to join my top. Ryder’s eyes follow my every move, darkening as my black lace bikini briefs follow my shorts.
Kneeling on the bed before him, completely naked, I bare my soul. “I never thought a guy like you would give me the time of day. I mean, I’m messed up inside, Ryder. You know that. I’ve got the kind of baggage no man wants. And you’re the kind of man who has it all together. Great career, sexy as sin, all this badass swagger. I can’t figure out why you want to be with me.”
With every word I utter, he moves closer to the bed. Placing one knee down on the mattress, he gently grips the back of my neck with one hand and stares into my eyes.
“Listen to me. We all come with our own set of fucked-up shit. Yours is no worse than mine. All I want is for you to trust me with it. The mess is less messy if we wade through it together. SEALs taught me that. You’re beautiful, you’re strong as hell, and you’re exactly who I want. You hear me?”
I nods, eyes wide, my hands pressing to either side of his face.
“And if there’s ever a time that you’re feeling like this is too much, or I’m hurting you, or scaring you…all you have to say is the word ‘stop.’ You say that word, and I’ll listen.
No matter what. I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart.”
I nod again, and after that, words are no longer necessary. My mouth becomes his.
Pressing me back onto the bed, he nudges my knees with one of his until my legs are spread wide open. One hand cups my breast, his thumb circling my pebbled, tender peak, and I whimper and writhe underneath him.
I gasp. “Please, Ryder.”
Dipping his head, he takes my nipple and sucks, like I’m a piece of candy. Weighing me in both hands, he switches his attention to the other nipple and licks me until my hips are bucking restlessly against his stomach.
I knew I needed this man to keep me safe. But I never expected to need him to make me feel alive again.
He dips his head to my ear, and his words cause a shiver to roll down my spine. “Baby…I need to be inside you right now.”
His tone’s apologetic, but I nod my head emphatically. “Yes…God, yes.”
Kissing my lips again, he pushes back. “Don’t move. I have condoms in my bag in the other room.”
He leaves me lying there and jogs out of the room. When he returns, he’s ripping open a foil wrapper and rolling the condom onto his cock.
Positioning himself above me again, he nudges at my entrance and I sigh, gripping his shoulders.
He stills, watching me. Serious eyes scan my face, concern etched in his gaze. One of his hands strokes my hair as he glances down to where we’re about to be joined.
He’s so beautiful.
Resistance was futile. This was always going to happen, wasn’t it?
I run my fingernails gently up and down his bare back.
“I want this,” I remind him. “I want you.”
Relief settles in his eyes, and he nods as he pushes into me slowly, so achingly slowly. I moan, lifting my hips forward to meet him. When he’s sunk to the hilt, a feeling of peace that I’ve never felt before overtakes me. Ryder goes completely still, staring into my eyes.
I’m staring into his.
I don’t know how many moments go by before he starts to rock; when his body rocks into mine I answer every move he makes. Each thrust sends a spark of fire fissuring through my nerve endings, and it doesn’t take long before my walls are vibrating around him.
“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he says, panting. Reaching between us, he grasps my clit between his fingers and pinches with gentle pressure. “Come for me. Come with me.”
My voice pitches higher. “Ryder! Yes!”
I start to quiver around him harder, and he doesn’t hold back. Cradling me in his arms, he pounds into me over and over again until I can feel his release pouring into me. He roars, his body going tense right before he collapses onto the bed beside me.
For the next few minutes, all we do is breathe.
“Holy shit,” I finally say. “We just had sex.”
Chuckling, he climbs out of bed and heads for the bathroom to take care of the condom. When he slides back in between the sheets beside me, he pulls me in next to him. “Yeah, we did, Pistol Annie. And we’re gonna talk all about that when we wake up. But right now, I’m thinking a nap sounds perfect.”
And a nap does sound perfect. But the idea of Ryder’s muscled body pressed against me while he lies in the bed beside me sounds even better.
9
FRANNIE
Ryder’s breathing is heavy and even beside me, and nothing I can remember has ever felt as good as his arms around me. I feel safe. Relaxed. For the first time in years.
I don’t think he’ll ever understand the gift he’s given me.
And I’m about to betray him. Hopefully he’ll never find out.
I haven’t closed my eyes for the past half hour, since Ryder fell asleep. My mind is reeling. I’m not sure what I was thinking on the couch when I first asked him to kiss me.
Well, that isn’t exactly true. I was thinking that he was close and my attraction to him was overpowering, and I wasn’t above using it as a distraction from all the other thoughts running around inside my head. The lurking fear of Eli catching up to me is enough to deal with, and I now have a bodyguard and am in danger of going into Witness Protection. That can’t happen. Just the thought has my skin breaking out into a cold sweat lying next to Ryder’s hard, warm body.
The sex—oh my word. It was hands-down the best sex I’ve ever had. Every time I glance over at Ryder all I want to do is leap on top of him and start all over again.
The feeling of him being inside me rushed through my entire body, and it wasn’t just physical. The wave swept from my sex to my brain to my heart and straight through to my soul. I was shaken to the core, and when I looked into Ryder’s eyes, I saw my feelings reflected there.
Testing his grip, I lift his arm off me with some difficulty and slide out from under it. Silently placing it back down on top of the pillow, I tiptoe to the closet and grab some clothes. Dressing in the living room without a sound, I take one last look toward the bedroom before pressing the elevator button and thanking my lucky stars that it doesn’t make the loud ding that most elevators do.
Pulling out one of the burner phones I have stashed away, I call a car to meet me outside the condo building in five minutes. While I wait, I pace. And I text.
When the car arrives, I climb into the backseat and settle in for the hourlong ride to Jacksonville. It’ll be a steep fare, one that I can’t really afford, but I don’t care.
It’ll be worth every penny.
The little yellow house is in a clean, modest neighborhood fifteen minutes off the interstate in Jacksonville. I’ve driven the route so many times in the last year it’s second nature, and I don’t even bother to give the driver an address to put in her GPS. I just give her turn-by-turn directions to the house.
When she pulls her Toyota Corolla up at the curb, I hop out and walk up the driveway in the approaching dusk. The front door opens as I approach, and a woman just a year older than I am comes out onto the front porch and leans against a white post. She’s tall and willowy, with dark brown hair styled in a chin-length bob and angular facial features unblemished by makeup. Dressed in short overalls, she appears to be just like any other young mom on her block, but I know better.
“Hey, you,” she greets me as I bound up the steps two at a time. “Are you okay?”
I nod and walk into her arms. She wraps them around me, and we hug for several moments before pulling away and holding each other at arm’s length.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here. You’ve gotten my texts?”
Her face pulls into a grim expression. “Yes. Come inside, Frannie.”
Once we’re standing in her front hallway, she shuts the door behind me.
“I’m sorry, Lo,” I blurt. “I’m going to explain everything, but I can’t go another second without seeing her.”
Lobelia squeezes my upper arm, offering me the sympathetic smile that only a friend can give, and directs me into the living room. “She’s right in here. Having some dinner in her high chair.”
The air I’ve been holding in my lungs for what seems like days suddenly whooshes out as I walk into the small apple-green kitchen and lay eyes on the eight-month-old baby girl busily scooping mashed-up pasta from a tray and shoveling it into her mouth. She looks up when we enter, big blue eyes landing on mine.
“Ash,” she says.
It doesn’t matter that she can’t actually talk yet. She might as well have just said Mama. My chest swells and my throat constricts and when she lifts her arms toward me with an expectant look on her face, I reach her in less than two strides. Raising the tray, I wipe her hands and unbuckle her harness. Then I lift my baby girl into my arms and cuddle her to my chest, her cheek resting against mine.
She smells like baby powder and milk, and something completely familiar and all mine.
“Ba,” she coos, one chubby hand patting my cheek as she snuggles into me.
“Yes, baby girl,” I whisper. “Mama is right here.”
My heart, which was previo
usly beating so rapidly in my chest it was in danger of taking flight, is now slowing down. Everything in my body is regulating as nature takes its course. I’m with my baby again, exactly where I should be.
I pull back, staring into her round little face, and she gazes right back. An aura of calm surrounds her, the way it always has. It’s amazing, considering the circumstances of my pregnancy and her birth.
It’s where she gets her name: the symbol for peace.
“Your little Dove misses you when you aren’t here.” Lo’s remark reminds me that Dove and I aren’t alone in the kitchen, and I turn with my little girl in my arms to face Lo.
“How has she been doing?” I brush a ringlet of blond hair—a shade lighter than mine—back from Dove’s face and she hums and leans into my hand. “She seems so much bigger than the last time I saw her, a few weeks ago.”
Lo smiles. “She’s probably gained a pound or two since then.”
I sigh, a heaviness settling on my chest. Because I want to witness every single pound my daughter gains, every single milestone she hits, every smile she’s generous enough to dole out.
“I’m missing it.” The desperate sadness in my voice is so evident that Lobelia approaches and wraps her arms around Dove and me.
My childhood friend and I have been close ever since we reconnected on Facebook a few years ago. She was the only person I could trust when the time came for me to run. And since my move to Wilmington, just an hour away from her home in Jacksonville, we’ve been as close as sisters.
Which is why, when a whisper from back home gave me a clue that Eli was working an angle on the East Coast, I called on Lo to take my little girl until I knew it was safe to bring her home again. Although nothing indicated that Eli knew where I was or that Dove existed, I felt it was safer. I thought I could just lie low and hide Dove for a little while.
The day I met Indigo and Lawson, I was baking a kitchen full of brownies because I’d just taken my baby girl to live with my best friend.