The Replacement

by Wade, Rachael

  “It’s good to see you,” he says, his voice dry with grit. His mouth closes and eyes glaze over with choked-back emotion, so strong it nearly knocks the wind out of me. The expression tears me wide open, and all I can think of is rushing around his desk to give him a hug. That’s all I want from him right now. A big, daddy-like, teddy bear hug that I know he knows how to give. I’ve seen him give it to his children and to his wife. I know he possesses something that I’ve never known but yearn for more than anything in the world.

  Well, almost anything. Ryder’s hugs are pretty fucking perfect.

  But I remain still, gripping my coffee cup for dear life, and wait.

  His eyes narrow and he sniffles, straightening up and shaking off the softie vibe that gives his heart away. He’s suddenly all square shoulders and earnest face, strong and unyielding, like the dependable man I’ve come to know. “Your hair’s different.”

  “It is.”

  “Did you get in a fight with your scissors?” A smirk creeps up.

  “Something like that.” It’s true, I botched the job. But my hotel room had the most stunning antique vanity. It practically shimmered against the cracked damask wallpaper. Its mirror taunted me, highlighting my long, blonde locks. As soon as I stepped into the room, I dropped my bags, moved toward it, took one look at myself, and grabbed a pair of scissors from the dresser drawer.

  The rest was history.

  “Looks good, hon.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He leans back in his chair and a squeak fills the air, creaking with his weight. “You’ve done a lot of surprising things. I gotta say, this one tops them all.” He taps the newspaper and his brows rise.

  “You know me,” I smile, feeling a bit less uneasy, “always dramatic.”

  “Oh yes,” he laughs lightly, “always.”

  “I hoped it would all blow over by now.”

  “This?” he pipes up, pointing to the paper. “Hon, this is all the town will talk about for weeks. Maybe months. Shit, years. But I guess you knew that.”

  “Yeah. Guess so.” I specifically chose to write it all down while I was in Paris and e-mail the submission before I came home, just in time for the next issue run. I had plenty of time on the plane ride overseas to think about what I wanted to say. By the time I actually sat to write it down, the words just poured out. There was no controlling the flood. “Sorry if it…caused any commotion here for you.”

  He laughs again. It’s not quite as jovial this time. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Shit.

  “Elise.” He leans forward to find my eyes, which are everywhere but on him now. “I’m only teasing you, hon. You’re worried about the commotion it’s causing me? All I give a damn about is what you’re about to walk into out there. You’ve got a real set of brass balls, let me tell you.”

  A huff of laughter bursts from my lips, a mixture of nervous energy and genuine amusement at his way with words. “Jay.”

  “I’m just sayin’, hon. You do. More than any man I know. Hell, more than me, that’s for sure.”

  “Um…thanks, I guess?”

  He shakes his head and chuckles, finally standing to meet me at full height. I seem to shrink as he rises, restraining my need to bound over to him and ask him for that hug.

  There’s no need to.

  He moseys at first, hands in pockets as he saunters around the desk toward me. He stops in front of me and lifts his chin, staring down with proud eyes. A father’s eyes. Not my own, but they’re more than enough. Then his arms wrap around me and I freefall, plummet into this man’s affection. The kind I have only ever imagined. It’s not like Ryder’s love. It’s different altogether, and I don’t know if it’s because it’s happening right now, right when I need it—when I’ve needed it all along—or because I understand now.

  Because I see what he sees.

  A girl who fucked up. A girl who made careless choices—choices she’ll never regret, but consequences she’d never wish upon anyone—and who needed something unconditional. Something safe, something strong. A girl who did not kill her mother. A girl who was not rotten, only broken, like the world she and so many women are forced to walk in. A cruel world. Perfectly imperfect, just like Ryder Jacobson.

  My something.

  Wetness leaks from my eyelids and Jay holds me tighter, shushing me quietly, his body stern yet comforting. Everything in me lapses into something fluid, something uncontrollable. Sparks fly and sunshine floods my chest like butterflies fluttering for escape. My arm lifts and hooks under his, my hand latching onto the back of his shoulder. We stand there like that, with the office door wide open, for I don’t know how long. This moment is infinite.

  “How about we go for a ride?” he asks, pulling back slightly to peer down at me. A sob escapes me when I look up, never wanting to let go of this man.

  “You guys are busy. You sure you can leave right now?”

  “I’ve been holed up in this office since the crack of dawn. I need some air. Besides, these guys can hold the fort down for a day. They’ve managed before.” He smiles and pats my cheek, moving to grab his coat. He leads me out of his office and through the kitchen, back out into the restaurant, where I’m just as much of a spectacle as I was when I first walked in. This time, as we stroll past each table, I force my gaze up, meeting each stare.

  “Elise,” Natalie’s voice calls out to me. I stop and turn to find her at a table to the right, pouring coffee for a customer. “So you finally made it to Paris, huh?”

  My gaze darts to Jay’s for a second and he nods subtly, telling me it’s okay. “Yeah, finally,” I say carefully, looking back at Natalie. That same guarded look I’ve come to know since our fallout holds her expression hostage, but her eyes say something else.

  “Good for you.” She smiles. It’s still careful, still void of trust, but it’s kind and genuine, and that’s everything to me.

  “Thanks. It was amazing.”

  “Maybe you can show me pictures sometime.”

  I begin to stutter, but quickly correct myself. “I’d like that. Sure. Any time.”

  She nods and holds my gaze for a moment, then resumes pouring coffee and chatting with her customers. Jay and I take that as our cue, wandering out to the parking lot.

  “My car or yours?” I ask.

  “Mine. You’ll have a ride back.”

  Excitement unfurls in my gut, and I climb into his passenger seat, praying my mind will calm down long enough to focus. I need to breathe, need to get it together, but all I can think about is seeing his face. What it’ll do to me when I breathe him in, feel his lips on mine.

  Jay pays me a knowing side glance as he drives us toward South Bend, and I just grin like the nervous fool I am. We roll up to Ryder’s cabin just before 11 a.m. We bounce around as the rocky dirt drive welcomes us, pulling us into the woods’ rustic magic. Duke’s distinctive bark echoes in the distance when I step out of the car. I straighten my coat and comb fingers through my hair, looking for any signs of Lauren. Nothing so far, but I haven’t been inside yet.

  “She’s not here,” Jay says, reading my mind. “Long gone, right before you left for Paris.”

  “Good.” I vaguely wonder how she made out, having to head back out into the harsh world with a bun in the oven, knowing she lost Ryder Jacobson. Losing him can’t feel good. I would know.

  Duke’s bark grows closer. His dark shadow comes bounding from around the back of the cabin, heading straight for us. Laughter follows his mad dash, and the sound sends heat straight down my spine, stopping in my toes.

  And there he is.

  Striding casually behind Duke, appearing from around back, with all that easy grace I love. Broad shoulders, every-man smile, that imperfect tooth, and a five-o-clock shadow that male models kill for. The rest of his art is covered in denim jeans and a hunter green sweater. He’s carrying a pile of firewood, his breath visible as he tells Duke to settle down. I pat Duke on the head, but I can’t take my
eyes off his owner. He’s my owner, too.

  I hope he still wants to be.

  Ryder meets my gaze as he walks closer. He slows in his tracks, his grin slowly growing as he drinks me in.

  “Let me get that for you.” Jay strolls up to him, taking the firewood off of his hands. He calls out to Duke and Duke trots up to his side to follow him toward the house. “I’ll give you two kids a minute.”

  Ryder glances briefly in Jay’s direction, a fleeting look of gratitude, but his eyes are all on me, every inch, every crevice. With the way he’s looking at me, we’re going to need a hell of a lot more than a minute.

  I shiver as the harsh winter wind whips at my cheeks, but the sting of the cold disappears when Ryder moves in.

  “I’m surprised you came back,” he says, brushing his hands on his pants.

  Disappointment rattles through me, my heart crashing to a ravine in my chest. “You are? I thought…I mean, I thought I made it clear that I—”

  “From Paris, Elise.” He smirks and steps closer, his presence intoxicating. “I was afraid once you got there, you’d never want to come home.”

  Relief breezes through me just as fast as panic sought to sink me. “Oh,” I laugh, biting my lip.

  “How does it feel? Being a celebrity now and all.” His lips swish to the side playfully and he freezes when the tips of his boots hit mine. We both just stand there, staring. Waiting.

  “I didn’t mean to single anyone out,” I clear my throat, averting my eyes, “I just had to get some of that off my chest. You know, purge.”

  “They say confession frees the soul.”

  “Guess that’s true.”

  A quiet gasp escapes me when he reaches up to smooth his cold, rough fingers over my cheek. They travel along the edge of my earlobe and thread through my hair. His eyes follow their trail, taking in my shorter, edgier hair style. “I like,” he says softly, low and smooth, just like the glide of his fingers. “It suits you.”

  I lean into his touch, closing my eyes. “Me, too.”

  “I like this more.” His lips suddenly touch mine, pressing lightly, his tongue gliding along my lower lip, seeking entrance. I exhale into the kiss, giving him an immediate green light. I open and accept him, letting the reeling force overtake me. His kiss reaches deep, slow and sensual, careful yet firm—a Ryder Jacobson kiss. The one I’ve been waiting for.

  And then I can’t wait a second longer.

  My hands land on his chest and slide upward, looping around his neck. He cups my face, staggering forward, his mouth turning desperate. Our hot breaths plume in the winter air, our cold lips warming as the kiss turns hard and urgent. He palms the small of my back, smoothing his hand over my ass to pull me against him.

  “Hey baby,” he murmurs. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Ryder?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I hope you have strawberry ice cream in the house.”

  His breath tickles my face. “Oh, I stocked up last night.”

  “Are you always so prepared?”

  “Always.”

  “And patient?”

  He laughs and nibbles along my lower lip, sending me a subtle but very pointed rock of his hips. Right here, in the middle of the forest, in broad daylight. With the closest thing I have to a father within viewing distance. “Not always.”

  “We better get inside.”

  “Why Elise Duchamp, are you suddenly turning shy on me?”

  “Oh, just get moving, Jacobson.” I raise a brow and begin tugging on his hand, leading us toward the cabin. Surprise widens those dimples and color spreads over my cheeks. The truth is I do feel shy. Like all of the lights have been turned on and I’m standing naked in the middle of the forest, everything on full display.

  I blame it on Paris.

  When we step inside, we find Jay tending to the fire while Duke gobbles away at his food bowl, slurping up every last piece of kibble. Jay grunts as he rises, planting his hands on his hips as he assesses the fire.

  “I think that’ll do,” he says with a nod. “Nice and toasty.”

  “Thanks, man.” Ryder slips out of his coat and makes a move for the kitchen. I scan the cabin, relieved to see all of Lauren’s touches are gone. It’s Ryder’s place again. “Hey, I have a few more books for you to take home. Right there, on the top shelf. The ones you asked about.” Ryder points to the chestnut bookshelf near the fireplace while he collects some spoons and bowls.

  “Ah, yes,” Jay says, reaching for the bag of paperbacks. “Thanks, Kid.”

  “Care to stay for some ice cream?”

  “Ice cream? In this weather? It’s not even noon.”

  “No better time.” Ryder sends me a sly glance. “We have strawberry.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Gotta get back to the restaurant. Just wanted to swing by and bring you your girl, here.” He walks over to Ryder and claps him on the shoulder. “Take good care of her, you hear?”

  “You have my word.” They exchange looks and Jay nods, holding Ryder’s gaze for a long moment. He finally waves to us both and strolls to the door.

  “Strawberry ice cream in December,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

  “We have warm brownies, too,” Ryder drawls, just as Jay reaches the door knob. He pauses, looking tempted, but groans and pats his belly on a exhale.

  “Better not,” he says. “Don’t want to fatten myself up for the Mrs. You two enjoy your sweets. Behave now, lovebirds.”

  “We’ll try,” I smile coyly, joining him at the door. I walk him out to his car and tell him to drive safely, my heart lurching as I watch him drive away. One love of my life on his way out, another on his way in.

  I look back at the cabin.

  Ryder’s silhouette is visible through the frosty windows. An orange glow pools from the fireplace, casting it in soft light. I could stand here, just like this, watching him while I freeze to death. But I want to be bathed in that light with him.

  And I want the sweets he’s preparing for us.

  “There she is,” he says, when I come up behind him, resting my cheek on his back. My arms encase him, hands planting firmly on his chest. He’s scooping the strawberry ice cream over the warm brownies, which smell divine.

  “My three favorite things, all under one roof.” I kiss his shoulder, watching him work.

  He glances behind him, eyeing me. “Well, did you read it? I left the copy in your kitchen.”

  “I wrote it. I already know what it says.”

  “Then why did you want the copy?”

  “Just thought I should have it. I’ll read it someday, I’m sure.”

  He sets a spoon down and slowly turns, leaning back against the counter. “Move in with me.”

  My lips part and eyes widen. “Yeah?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Did everything go okay with Lauren?” I still don’t like saying her name. I’m sure it has the same effect on me that Christian’s name has on Ryder. Well, maybe not to the same degree, but it’s unpleasant all the same.

  “It’s all settled. There’s nothing to worry about. She’s my past, you’re my future.” He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckle. “Simple.”

  “But the baby…how did she take it?”

  “Elise, it’s over. I promise, it’s okay. Lauren’s a strong girl. She’ll make it on her own. It wouldn’t have worked out. I couldn’t give her what she wanted.”

  “Well, I could get used to this place,” I say, looking around wistfully. “What’ll we do when Richard needs it back? Go back to the campground?”

  “We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can get a place of our own. Do a little traveling.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, you’ll move in?”

  “Yes to it all.” I slouch forward, leaning against him. “Yes to everything, as long as it’s with you.”

  A quiet intake of breath parts his delicious lips, and I inhale, spoiling myself. Rich tree bark and cinnamon spice, all musky and earthen.
<
br />   Perfect.

  “I’m going to make you happy, baby.” His eyes flare with determination, and he spins around to grab the bowls, leading us to the sofa. It feels like it was ages ago when I sat on this couch, in front of this fire, with Ryder spooning me cool strawberry cream. We feed one another leisurely, wordlessly. When we’re done, I tell him all about my adventures in Paris.

  How I got lost in Montmartre.

  Made friends in Au Levain du Marais, the most charming boulangerie.

  Discovered some of the best vintage shopping and marveled at the Louvre.

  Sipped a cup of sweet and spicy mulled wine at the Champs-Élysées Christmas market.

  Bought a chic chapeau at Le Bon Marché.

  Gawked at Notre-Dame.

  Missed him.

  Missed him a lot.

  “Any word from him?” Ryder changes the subject, after I’ve indulged him in my travel details. He looks down, pushing his spoon around in the empty ice cream bowl.

  “I haven’t spoken to Christian, Ryder. Not since that night. He’s texted me to ask how I’m doing and I’ve let him know I’m okay. That’s all, I swear.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.” His gaze lifts to mine and his jaw flexes. “I do.” He rubs my knee and stands, collecting my empty bowl. “I’m going to run us a hot bath. You relax. I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

  “Mmmm, sounds perfect.” I tilt my head and close my eyes. I love his tub. It’s an old, clunky, antique piece of junk, with clawed feet and a squeaky faucet, but it’s clean and functional, and when I’m sharing it with Ryder, all is right in the world.

  He deposits our dishes in the sink and starts for the bathroom, disappearing and leaving me with the crackling fire. Duke chews contently on a bone, lounging comfortably on his bed, enjoying the warmth. I sigh and shift forward, rummaging around the coffee table for something to read. This is the perfect afternoon for a hot bath with my man and a good book.

  Luckily, I’m in the right place.

  Ryder has books sprawled everywhere. There are various timeworn paperbacks, hard cover editions of older classics, and the latest contemporaries, strewn over the table, covering magazines and coasters. I fumble through the selection, stilling when I uncover a copy of The Gig Harbor Weekly. It’s the latest one, hidden underneath a pile of woodshop magazines. There’s a page flagged at the corner, and I don’t have to guess which one it is.