Ryder

by Diana Gardin

  At the other end of the yard, Nevaeh’s occupied with Jeremy and Rayne Teague’s son, Decker. He’s just a couple of years younger than her, and they’ve been hanging out since the Teagues arrived. I’m glad she has someone her age in our group to hang out with, and Jeremy promised that raising a preteen was going to be exactly as hard as I thought it was going to be. I guess the look on my face when he said that was comical, because he laughed and Rayne punched him. Jeremy isn’t known for being the most serious guy around the office, so I’m gonna take his advice with a grain of salt and hope for the best when it comes to the future with Nevaeh.

  The rest of the guys from the Rescue Ops team are on the deck with my friend Drew from the Boys and Girls Club, bottles of beer in their hands, and it’s the kind of day that makes you want to chill out and relax.

  Which I’m going to do, just as soon as I marry the woman of my dreams.

  “Let me ask you something,” I murmur, pulling my eyes from Frannie.

  I take note of the fact that Bain’s not looking at me; when I follow his gaze, it’s leveled on Lilliana Snyder. I snap my fingers in front of his face, and he slowly slides his eyes to my face.

  “What?”

  “What are you looking at?” There’s amusement in my tone, because I caught him staring and he knows it.

  “Shut up.” He turns to face me. “What are you asking?”

  “When I marry Frannie today, be my best man?”

  He blinks. Once. Twice. Then one side of his mouth curves up in a smile. “You serious?”

  I nod, grinning. “Yeah. In about five minutes.”

  “Was wondering why you hired live music for a barbecue.”

  We both glance into the yard, where a local cover band that came highly recommended is setting up. In just a few minutes, they’re going to play the song that Frannie and the girls will walk down the aisle to.

  “It’s informal. No chairs set up or anything, and the ceremony will only take a few minutes. Jacob’s ordained, so he’s going to do it for us. No one else knows. Frannie’s having Nevaeh and Lo stand up beside her. But I needed you up there.”

  He nods, holding out his hand. “I’m honored.”

  Five minutes later, I’m standing in the backyard on the deck. Jacob comes to stand beside me, smiling. I nod to the lead singer of the band, and he speaks into the microphone.

  “Can I have everyone turn their attention to the deck, please? Our hosts would like to welcome you to their backyard barbecue. And also to their wedding.”

  Gasps and whoops are scattered throughout the small crowd in our backyard as every single face turns to me. Jacob opens the sliders, and the band starts to play “Wonderwall” by Oasis.

  I should be nervous. I always thought, in the back of my mind where I pictured my wedding day, that I’d be nervous. But maybe that’s just because I didn’t know what to expect, or what was going to happen. Today, I know exactly what’s going to happen. And when it comes to the woman walking through those doors right now in a white sundress hanging off her shoulders, her creamy skin glowing in the late-afternoon sunshine, blond-and-pink hair flowing around her like a goddamn halo, I know exactly what to expect.

  So I’m not nervous, but I’m keyed up with anxious excitement, because I’m ready for Frannie Phillips to become Frannie Ryder. I never believed in miracles until I met her, but when they started to happen one right after another, I became a believer.

  I believe in us. All the winding roads we’ve had to walk to get to this point have been a trial, but we walked them. And they’ve led us right here.

  She’s holding Dove, and our little girl looks perfectly at peace in her mama’s arms, smiling over at me as Frannie takes her place beside me on the deck. She passes Dove to Lo, and we join hands, Nevaeh taking Frannie’s hand on the other side, and listen as Jacob asks us to recite the vows that will unite us for the rest of our lives.

  It takes me ten minutes to marry her, but it’ll take me a lifetime to love her.

  I’ll savor every single second.

  Epilogue

  RYDER

  I look at my life now, and it’s hard for me to picture what it was like a year ago. Now I’m sitting at the kitchen table with my girls on a summer Tuesday night, hanging out with them while I watch Frannie hobble around cooking.

  Frannie’s been planning a huge family dinner all day, buying all these fancy ingredients for a brand-new recipe. She insists that she wants one last meal with just the four of us before we become five, and when I ask her why she thinks this needs to happen today, she says she just knows.

  “The doctor says you’re not even dilated yet,” I reminded her this afternoon following her weekly appointment. “And you’re only thirty-seven weeks.”

  She gave me her stubborn stare. “I’m cooking this dinner tonight, Ryder. Don’t argue with me.”

  So I stopped arguing. But she keeps stopping and taking breaks, and I’m not used to seeing her so…miserable. She looks like she needed to go lie down two hours ago, but she has this determined expression on her face to finish this dinner and I just don’t get it.

  “Please let me do something, sweetheart.” There’s a note of pleading in my voice now, because it’s just getting painful to watch.

  “You can come grab the plates.” Frannie’s voice is breathy as she responds, finally agreeing to let me help. “It’s ready.”

  She sits down at the table, and I grab the plates of food off the counter. I’m watching Frannie so closely while we eat that I’m not even sure what it is she cooked.

  Dove eats exactly four bites of her dinner, which was an abbreviated version of the rest of ours. She looks at me from her high chair and points at the floor. “Down, Dad-dee.”

  My heart lifts, the way it does every single time she calls me Daddy, and I smile. “Eat, angel.”

  Her eyes fill with the same resolve I always see in her mother’s. Her tone doesn’t change, because Dove is nothing if not a pacifist. But she knows what she wants, and right now, she’s done eating. “Down, Dad-dee.”

  She points to the floor again.

  I sigh, and unhook her from her seat.

  Muttering, I place her on the floor. “Daddy can bring in wanted criminals from all over the world, but he can’t say no to his twenty-month-old.”

  Frannie looks at me, her expression playfully stern. “Or his twelve-year-old.”

  I look at Nevaeh with a What’s she talking about? expression and offer her my fist. “Principal’s list—straight A’s—all four quarters in sixth grade? That deserved some extra gifting, I think.”

  She smiles at me, her gorgeous little face melting my heart. Nevaeh worked harder this year than any of us to overcome her own obstacles. She had nightmares for a long time, ones that didn’t surface until we’d been living together for a couple of weeks. Terrible, wake-the-whole-house-in-the-middle-of-the-night terrors that took grueling hours of therapy to overcome. And through it all, she loved us and let us love her. She became the best big sister in the world to Dove, helping Frannie whenever needed and being patient and loving when Dove got into her stuff. And she killed it in school every day, earning top grades in every single class.

  I couldn’t be prouder. Frannie and I knew it would be okay to start trying for another baby when the nightmares stopped.

  Frannie suddenly gets up from the table, her belly leading the way, hands supporting her back, and I swear she’s more beautiful now than she was the day she held a gun on me in the penthouse kitchen.

  And I thought she was the most gorgeous woman in the world then.

  Irritatingly gorgeous, but stunning nonetheless.

  As she walks upstairs, she calls out to me. “Ryder? Call Lo, okay? She should come stay with the girls while we run up to the hospital. It’s time to go have this baby.”

  My chair scrapes against the wood floor as I shoot up out of it. “Shit.”

  Nevaeh bounces out of her chair and frowns at me. She runs to close the baby gate so
Dove won’t toddle up after her mama, and then turns to face me. “Language, Dad. I’ll call Aunt Lo. You go check on Mom.”

  My heart jackhammering in my chest, I nod and take the stairs two at a time.

  I find Frannie doubled over in our room, breathing heavily. Fear curls in a black cloud around my heart as I eat up the distance between us in two strides and cradle her bent body in my arms.

  “How long?” I growl. “How long have you been having contractions?”

  She doesn’t answer until the pain subsides, finally looking at me through pain-filled eyes. “Four hours.”

  My mouth drops open as I stare at her. “Four. Hours? You didn’t say anything and you’ve been feeling pain for four hours, Frannie? For fuck’s sake!”

  I race around the room, grabbing her hospital bag. Then I rush downstairs and throw it in the Suburban we got when we traded in Frannie’s car. The BMW sits beside it in our driveway.

  When I go back into the house, Frannie is trying to walk down the stairs, and a string of curse words leave my mouth.

  “I swear to Jesus, woman. You’re gonna kill me before you have this baby, and then what will you do? Stop trying to do everything on your own, dammit!”

  I scoop her into my arms and carry her out to the SUV just as Lo’s car screeches to a stop at the curb. It doesn’t take her more than five minutes to get to our house since she moved into the neighborhood beside ours six months ago, and right now I couldn’t be more thankful.

  “Go,” she shouts, pausing to kiss Frannie’s cheek before she lets herself into the house. “I’ve got these girls.”

  I buckle Frannie in and jog around to the driver’s side, starting the ignition and gunning it.

  “You don’t have to drive like a maniac, Ryder. We’ll make it. Labor takes hours and hours. I didn’t want to sit in a hospital bed for most of it. I wanted to be at home with my girls.” She gasps and curls up on the seat, her face contorted in pain.

  I watch the road, feeling my own pain as I wish I could take it for her. God, it’s fucking torture watching this. How do other men do it?

  Thirty minutes later, we’re settled in a room at the hospital. I’m waiting outside the door because Frannie’s chosen to have an epidural, which I’m fucking thrilled about. I’m also thrilled about being able to stand out in the hallway instead of watching the doctor jam a needle into her spine.

  When I return, she gives me a bright smile. “See? All better. You looked so worried, Ryder.”

  Sitting in the chair beside the bed, I reach for her hand. “I am. And I can’t stand seeing you in pain. I just want all of this to go smoothly, and I want it to be over so we can meet our son.”

  Our son. The words send a jolt of excitement shooting through my system, and from the way Frannie’s eyes light up; she feels the same way when she hears them. “Me too. They said I’m seven centimeters. So not long to go.”

  Not long to go until we meet our son. “You know this will be the first kid who actually starts out with my last name.”

  She frowns. “All your kids have your last name.”

  I nod. “Yeah, now. I adopted Dove and we both adopted Nevaeh. This is just different. It doesn’t change a damn thing. I’ll love him exactly the same as I love my girls. But it’s different. Being here from the beginning, you know?”

  She grins, and then glances at the monitor. “I’m having a contraction and I don’t even feel it! How crazy is that?”

  I look at the way the lines on the machine are jumping up and down. “Crazy.”

  She squeezes my hand. “You know what being there from the beginning means? It means you have to do middle-of-the-night feedings and change dirty diaper blowouts. Are you ready for all that?”

  Now it’s my turn to frown. “What’s a blowout?”

  She lets her head drop back on the pillow and laughs softly. “Oh, just you wait, Ryder. This is going to be fun.”

  It only takes an hour. An hour, and I’m holding my son close to my chest. Frannie lies on the bed, her body spent, but her face relaxed and full of nothing but joy. Right now, it’s just the two of us, but we know it’s only a matter of time before we’re bombarded by visitors.

  We’re okay with that. As long as our girls are the first ones to meet their brother.

  He stares up at me, his eyes a dark blue, his mouth working repeatedly, his little nose scrunching. A full head of dark hair covers his head.

  “His hair will lighten, you know,” Frannie whispers from the bed. “I had dark hair when I was born too.”

  “Me too,” I admit. “He’s…God, Frannie. He’s so fucking amazing, you know?”

  “I know. He’s perfect. I love him so much already.”

  I look over at her, tearing my eyes from the baby in my arms. “I love you so much, baby. You did so good.” If I thought I couldn’t love her any more, I was wrong. Watching the woman you love have your baby…that shit changes you.

  Frannie and I have already been through some life-altering experiences together. And there’s no going back from this. She’s mine forever, and I’m hers.

  Little Jett Echo Ryder is the icing on the cake that is my family.

  About the Author

  Diana Gardin is a wife of one and a mom of two. Writing is her second full-time job, after that, and she loves it! Diana writes contemporary romance in the young adult and new adult categories. She’s also a former elementary school teacher. She loves steak, sugar cookies, and Coke and hates working out.

  Learn more at:

  DianaGardin.com

  Twitter: @DianalynnGardin

  Facebook.com/AuthorDianaGardin

  ALSO BY DIANA GARDIN

  DELTA SQUAD

  Lawson

  RESCUE OPS SERIES

  Sworn to Protect

  Promise to Defend

  Mine to Save

  BATTLE SCARS SERIES

  Last True Hero

  Saved by the SEAL

  Man of Honor

  NELSON ISLAND SERIES

  Wanting Forever

  Ever Always (novella)

  Falling Deep

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