by Kaylee Ryan
“You got a little something, right here.” She points to her chin.
“We are no longer friends,” I pout.
She throws her head back and laughs.
“Eat,” I mumble as I pick up my cheeseburger and take a huge bite. I’ve lost my appetite but if we’re both eating, I hope we can avoid any more talk about Ridge and any further embarrassment for me. I’ve reached my limit for the day.
Our waitress appears about ten minutes later, asking if we need anything.
“Just the check,” I tell her.
She grins. “Those gentlemen at the counter took care of that.” She points over her shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Dawn and I both lay tips on the table and stand. “We have to say thank you,” she tells me.
I nod, knowing we do. It would be rude not to, and it was nice of them. We walk to where they’re sitting and Dawn hops on the stool next to Mark on one end. Ridge is sitting on the other. I step behind him and admire the way his Beckett Construction T-shirt forms to his muscles. Without thinking, I reach out and place my hand just below his shoulder blades. He turns his head at the contact.
At first, he looks annoyed until he works out that it’s me. I step closer. He doesn’t move his body, but turns his head to face me. I take another step closer, my hand still resting on his back. We’re close. It’s . . . intimate.
“Hey, sweet girl,” he says softly.
“Thank you, for lunch. You didn’t have to do that.” The words tumble out of me.
“You’re welcome.”
Neither one of us moves. His eyes are so dark, a deep chocolate color. I find it easy to get lost in them, in him. I slide my hand up his back to where it’s resting on his shoulder. He surprises me when he tilts his head and kisses my fingers.
“Ready to go?” Dawn’s chipper voice asks from behind me.
No. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay in this moment. Just need another minute. One more minute to be lost in him. “Yeah,” I say instead. As I go to pull away, Ridge places his hand over mine.
“I’ll see you soon.” His voice is low, just for me.
I don’t respond, just pull my hand from his shoulder, wave to the guys who are watching us closely, then turn and walk as quickly as I can out of the diner.
Dawn throws her arm over my shoulders. “That was hot as hell.”
I look at her like she’s lost her damn mind.
“Sexual tension at its finest. I think you’re wrong, by the way.”
“How so?”
“About the ‘mourning rebound’ thing. You need to talk to him. Be straight up, get it from the horse’s mouth and all that.”
I think about that the rest of the short walk back to the office, and to no surprise, the rest of the afternoon as well.
Dawn has an appointment at Reagan’s shop to get a manicure. “You sure you don’t want to come with me?”
“Yeah, it’s been a long day. I just want to chill. Tell Reagan I said hello.”
“All right then, see you later.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as soon as the door closes behind her. All day, I’ve tried to put up a front that today has not been the hardest in history to keep focused. Now that it’s just me, I can let my mind replay it all, in slow motion. Every touch, every word, every breath between us. I think about what Dawn said, and he doesn’t seem like a man in mourning. But then what does that say about him? Ridge is a good guy, and that seems out of character for him. Dawn’s words filter through my mind. You don’t know the full story. But I want to. I want to know what happened, know how he’s handling all of this. I want to be there for him for reasons both selfish and unselfish. I’m such a hypocrite. I want to be someone he can lean on because he needs it. I also want to be that person just to be next to him.
Ping. I jump from the couch and run to get my phone from the kitchen, all the while praying it’s him.
Ridge: How was your day?
I’m sure my smile is blinding, just from a simple text message.
Me: Uneventful.
Work was smooth today. Thank goodness. We had a full schedule, but nothing out of the ordinary.
Me: Yours?
Ridge: Great, actually.
Me: Good deal.
Lame, I know. What else do I say? ‘Tell me, I want to hear about every second’?
Ridge: It is. Want to hear about it?
Do I? Hell yes, I do. I type a response but wait to send it, slowly counting to sixty first. I don’t want to sound desperate—when, in reality, that’s exactly what I am. Desperate for any little piece of interaction with this man.
Me: Yes.
I clutch my phone in my hands, waiting for his next message. Time seems to creep as I wait, staring at the screen. When it rings, I jump and my phone goes flying. When I finally have it back in my hands, I see the screen.
‘Ridge calling.’
Chapter 23
Ridge
I wait forever for her reply and when it finally comes, I smile. Three little letters—Yes. Knox is asleep in my arms; he’s got a full belly and couldn’t resist the pull. I know I should put him down, he’s going to want to be held all the time—at least that’s what Mom tells me—but he’s peaceful, and to be honest, I just like to snuggle the little guy. It’s a shock to me, but he’s mine, a part of me. That makes a difference.
I’ve been using text-to-speech; it’s much faster than texting with one hand. Just as I’m about to reply, I decide that I need to hear her voice. I bring up her name and hit send. It rings more times than I would like, and just as I’m about to hang up and text her to ask why she won’t talk to me, she answers.
“Hello,” her soft voice comes over the line.
I close my eyes and let the sound fill me, relaxing into the couch. “Hey,” I reply just as softly.
Knox is sleeping. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.
“So, tell me about your day,” she says, keeping her voice soft.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Mmmhmm.”
“It was pretty great,” I tell her. “You see, this girl, she’s kind of barreled into my life, and I got to see her today—twice, in fact.”
“I see,” she replies. Something in her voice tells me that she doesn’t realize it’s her.
Could she be jealous? “Yep, she’s gorgeous and sweet as hell,” I say, hoping she gets the hint.
“That’s nice.”
“I almost kissed her. I had my hands on her, and I almost kissed her.”
She’s quiet.
“I think I scared her though, because she backed away.”
“You wanted to kiss her?” she asks.
Finally, she gets it. “More than anything.”
She’s quiet, but I can hear her breathing softly. “I don’t want to be your rebound, Ridge.”
Just like that, she’s stopped this game we’re playing and brought us both back to reality.
“I know you’re hurting and lonely, but I can’t be that person for you. I don’t have it in me. I’ve spent too much time in my life being with men who just want me around when it’s convenient for them. I can’t do that anymore. I won’t.”
“Kendall, you are not a rebound,” I say emphatically.
“You’ve been through so much. You may not think so now, but that’s what this would be and I want it. I want to kiss you. I wanted to, I mean.”
Fuck me! “What do I need to do? How can I prove to you that this isn’t what you’ve made up in that beautiful head of yours?”
“I don’t know.”
Knox stirs in my arms and starts to fuss. “He must need a diaper change. He’s only ever fussy when he’s hungry or needs changed. He’s got a full belly.” I don’t know why I tell her that.
“How is the little guy?” she asks, and I can tell she genuinely wants to know.
“Good. We’re taking it one day at a time. I need to change him, I just . . . don’t want to hang up.” I’m a fucking wreck
with this girl. Never in my life have those words fallen from my lips. She’s got me waxing poetic and shit.
“He needs his daddy,” she says. I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be home all night . . . I mean, if you want to talk some more.”
Yes! “Yeah, let me get him changed and settled. I have to get his bag ready for tomorrow, but I’d like that. To call later.”
“Give him a kiss goodnight from me.”
“Will do. Talk to you soon.” I hang up. “Little man, let’s get you changed,” I tell my son.
By the time I give Knox a bath, pack his bag for tomorrow, throw in a load of laundry, load the dishwasher, and pick up the living room, it’s time for another bottle and to get the little guy to bed. It’s after ten by the time he falls asleep. I kiss his little cheek. “That’s one from Kendall,” I kiss his other cheek. “That’s one from Daddy. Love you, little man.” I get him settled, turn on the monitor, and slowly creep out of his room before rushing down the hall to mine, ripping off my clothes and hop into the shower. After the quickest shower in the history of showers, I’m crawling into bed and reaching for my phone that’s been charging on the nightstand. It’s ten fifteen. I hesitate, not wanting to wake her, but I told her I would call.
The thought of her sleepy voice answering has me tapping her name and placing the phone next to me ear.
“Hey,” her groggy voice greets me.
Just as I imagined it would sound. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t, but another ten minutes and you might have.” She laughs. “Everything okay?”
She’s so damn sweet. Not just the taste of her skin—the little I’ve had the pleasure of sampling, anyway—but her heart. She truly cares. She’s so different from the girls I’ve dated in the past.
She’s the first I’ve pursued like this. Yes, I’m pursuing her. I can admit that much. I want what I told the guys to be true. I want her to be mine.
“Yeah, just a lot to do. Bath time, packing for tomorrow, laundry, dishwasher, bedtime bottle.” I ramble on about what all I’ve done since I last talked to her.
“Babies are a lot of work.”
“Yeah, they are. So, how was the rest of your night?” I change the subject, not wanting to be that guy, the one who whines and gets the girl. I want to know about her—everything there is to know.
“Good. I just chilled, read a book.”
“You read too? Reagan seems to always have a book in her hand.”
“I do. I love it.”
“What else do you do? How do you spend your free time?”
“You don’t really want to hear how boring my life is.”
“I do. I want to know everything about you.” Shit! My mouth just keeps spewing words at her. She’s going to think I’m a stalker.
“Dawn and I are roommates. We work together, so we do a lot together. Shopping mostly, plus she reads too, so we talk about our book boyfriends.”
Fictional, but I don’t like it. “What else?”
“We spend a lot of time at my parents’ place. I moved back six months ago, and Dawn came with me. I’ve been gone since I left for college, so it’s nice to be able to spend time with them. I guess I’m trying to catch up on all the time we lost.”
“Sounds like you’re close to them?”
“Yeah, I missed them when I was gone. It made the decision to move back home even easier.”
“What are you leaving out?”
“Nothing really, I was just ready for a change.”
I won’t push her to tell me. Not yet. I need to learn more about her, let her see that I’m not rebounding. I’m devastated that Melissa lost her life, and heartbroken that my son will never know his mother, but I’m not rebounding from her.
“So, other than these book boyfriends you speak of, do I have any other competition?” Might as well let her know where I want this to go. I don’t like to play games. My thoughts travel to Stephanie. That entire clusterfuck was a game, one I hated and vow to never play again. I don’t care what the dare is; if those are the stakes, I’m out. Never again.
“Not anymore.”
Good. Not that it would matter, since he would have to prove to me that he was the better man before I backed away from her. She consumes me. “Care to share?”
She hesitates.
Come on, sweetheart, open up to me.
“Cal and I dated for about two years. He was great at first, nice, sweet, and attentive. You know, everything a girl wants.” She laughs humorlessly. “Until he wasn’t.”
My heart stops a few beats at her words. If he laid his hands on her, I’ll kill him. “Elaborate,” I urge, trying to keep myself calm, my tone controlled.
“He got into the wrong crowd. He was a third-year medical resident when we started dating. After he finished his residency, he changed. That wrong crowd, was a group of medical students who were using and selling prescription drugs. Anyway, he changed. The drugs changed him. I didn’t know that’s what it was at first, but when I found out, I ended it. Well, I tried to, anyway. He was mean and angry that I left him. To make matters worse, he lived in the apartment across the hall. It was like I couldn’t get away from him and his anger.”
I clench my jaw. “Did he put his hands on you?”
“No, not really. I mean, he pushed me a few times, but it was nothing. He never hit me, really.” She stops and sighs heavily into the phone. “You don’t want to hear all this. I can’t believe I’m even telling you.”
“Keep talking,” I blurt out.
“Excuse me?”
“I need to know, Kendall. So help me, if you don’t finish telling me, my ass will be on your doorstep in however the hell long it takes me to get to you and you will tell me.”
“Ridge.” She sounds shocked.
“Kendall,” I give it right back to her.
“I don’t see how this is any of your business. I should go.”
“Let me tell you something—you are my business. I want you, Kendall. There is something between us, and I want to be able to see what it means. Anytime you’re near me, I gravitate toward you.” I take a deep breath and soften my tone. “I won’t be able to sleep until I know.”
“Once. He hit me once. That was the last time. One weekend he left to go out of town, and Dawn and I packed up and moved here. We’d been working on moving our things slowly for weeks. He’s called a few times, but I’ve avoided him. It was more of a slap, but that was the last straw for me. I knew I needed to get away before things got worse. Dawn’s not close with her family and she said she had nothing holding her there, so she moved with me. We stayed with my parents’ for a few weeks until we found a house to rent. We were lucky enough to both find jobs at the same place. We’ve just been settling in ever since.”
He fucking hit her! I focus on my breathing to keep myself calm. Red-hot rage roars through me like I’ve never felt before. “If he comes around, if he bothers you, you tell me. No exceptions, no excuses—you come to me. Got it?”
“Ridge, that’s crazy, you can’t—”
I interrupt her. “I can and I will. I need to hear you promise me, Kendall. He shows up, you come to me. You call me, fucking send a carrier pigeon, but you come to me.”
“Okay,” she says, so quiet I almost miss it. Then she yawns.
“I meant what I said, Kendall. I want to see where this goes.”
‘Ridge, I—”
“I know we need to talk. I need to tell you about Knox’s mom and I will, soon, but I want
to do it in person, not over the phone. I want to know that you can see me, see that my words are true.”
“Okay,” she says again.
“Night, sweet girl.”
She hesitates. “Sweet dreams,” she says, and then the line goes dead.
Sweet fucking dreams indeed.
Chapter 24
Kendall
I didn’t see Ridge yesterday, but we te
xted off and on all day. He sent me a picture of Knox sleeping on his chest last night. He claimed to be exhausted as well, having not slept well the night before. I know the feeling. I kept running our conversation over in my head. I can’t believe I just spilled my guts to him about Cal, that I admitted he hit me. Dawn is the only person I’ve told. I never wanted to tell anyone else, but Ridge has such a commanding way about him that he had me singing like a damn canary.
Mom and Dad are due home tomorrow, and my original plan was to stop by the house this morning on my way to work. I’m hesitant; I want to see him, but will it be different? He said he wanted me, but what does that mean exactly? That question alone has kept me awake for the second night in a row. I climb out of bed and shower, even though I still have two hours left to sleep. It’s just not happening.
After my shower, I dress for work and make my way to the kitchen, deciding to make some homemade cinnamon rolls. I’m just finished with my third cup of coffee and cleaning up when Dawn strolls into the kitchen.
“How long until they’re done?” she asks.
I laugh. I knew as soon as the smell hit her room, she would be awake; my homemade cinnamon rolls are her weakness. It’s actually my dad’s recipe. We would make them every year for Mother’s Day and Mom’s birthday. “About five more minutes,” I say, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter to her.
“Bless you.” She moans as she takes her first sip. “Why are you up so early?”
“One guess,” I tell her.
“Ridge fucking Beckett.” She giggles. “Even his name is hot as hell.”
I nod, because she’s right.
“Have you heard from him?”
“We texted last night. He sent me the cutest picture of Knox.” I grab my phone and pull up the message to show her the picture.
“So, yeah, the baby is adorable, but look at his dad.”
I blush, because yeah, I did that too. Knox is in nothing but a diaper, curled up in a ball, his little hands under his chin as he sleeps on Ridge’s bare chest. His hard arms, his ink, the tiny baby, that he has his large hand on his back, holding him close. . . .