His brow furrows and I clamp my lips shut tight. If only those words would never have had to pass my lips. Even so, they’re just words and barely describe the physical and emotional devastation those months wreaked on me.
My husband remains quiet, just looks at me, giving me time to continue. And I do after slowly exhaling. “It was . . . horrible. I was lucky. They ended up not being permanent, but it was months and months of pain and sickness. I’ve been managing since then with watching my diet and some meds. Afterward, though, people treated me differently. My parents act like I’m a porcelain doll who has to be protected at all costs. I don’t want to be viewed as the sick girl. I want the opportunity to prove myself. I want a chance to be myself. Riley. Not Riley, the Sick Girl.”
My husband’s jaw tics. “That’s why you moved out this way? To get away from them?”
I shrug. “Pretty much. Except . . .” Do I tell him everything? Really lay it on the table?
“Except what?”
“It’s why I broke up with you too. I know my dad did the actual deed, but I had to cut you lose, Luc. I know you. I know you would have given up everything to stay by my side, and I couldn’t let that happen. You deserved to have a life.”
His jaw tightens. “Should’ve let that be my decision.”
“Couldn’t, because I already knew what decision you’d make.”
We stare at each other in silence for a moment, the stack of pancakes going cold between us. He drops his gaze first and clears his throat. “And how are you now? Are you okay?”
I cross my fingers in my lap under the table. “Sure. I have to be careful, but I’m doing great.” Maybe if I say it enough, it will be true.
He picks up his fork and takes another bite of pancakes and chews, thinking. “Why’d you hide that from me now?”
The memory of the embarrassment and shame I felt watching someone walk out on me after finding out about my condition rushes over me. “Other people have decided they don’t want to deal with someone who’s chronically ill. Or they treat me the way my parents do. Either way, it’s always all about my illness. I’m more than Crohn’s disease.”
“Is there anything else I need to know?”
There is, but I’m not ready to talk about everything yet. He knows the most important part. I want to start my new meds—and hope they work so I can start feeling better—before laying everything else on him. Deep down, I’m still worried that if he finds out how bad things can get and how I joined the program for the medical benefits, he’ll throw in the towel.
But there is something I can share, something he can help with. “Sometimes I have flare-ups and when that happens, I have to be on a strict diet. I watch what I eat anyway, but it’s more intense. Sometimes I’ll even lose a bit of weight because of it.”
Lucas reaches across the table, squeezes my hand. “Thank you for sharing.”
And that was it. No interrogation. No barrage of questions. No jumping up to throw out anything in the kitchen that I couldn’t eat. Just a thank you for letting him in, for trusting him.
He leans back in his chair. “So, how about we look at what you need for your job?”
I nearly choke on the water I’m sipping, not having expected such a dramatic shift in topic. “Seriously? I, uh, have a list.”
He smiles. “Of course you do.”
My husband stands and starts clearing the table. If only I could turn back time, have had more faith in him. Things might’ve turned out different. I shake the thought away because that would mean Mason might not exist. No, maybe this was the way it was meant to be all along.
Lucas heads back to the table and offers me his hand to help me to my feet. He places his hands on my hips and I stare into his eyes. Going backward isn’t an option, but I can certainly adapt to the way we move forward. “Actually, I was also wondering if you could help me analyze the two job offerings I received. Not sure which one to go with.”
A smile spreads across his face, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Happy to assist.”
“Then we can have a snack.” I wink, then let my gaze drop to his groin.
A deep growl fills the air around us, his pupils dilating instantaneously. “If you keep that up, we may not make it to the store.”
I reach down and cup his dick. “No shopping, no snack. And I haven’t tasted you in years. Don’t wanna keep me waiting longer, do you?”
“No.”
I pat him on the shoulder, then head for the stairs to shower as my husband just stands there, a massive bulge in his pants.
Chapter Sixteen
Lucas
Mason helps carry in the brown paper bags full of groceries. Luckily, Riley is out volunteering with the surf school, giving me enough time to surprise her with dinner. After she opened up to me about Crohn’s, I decided to do some research. Not that I couldn’t have asked Riley to tell me, but I didn’t want to put her on the spot. I also didn’t want her minimizing it. I knew what she was like. I hadn’t forgotten her playing that soccer match with a broken arm.
It was a lot to take in and I don’t ever recall noticing anything when we were growing up. Maybe that’s why she dumped my ass. Because I never noticed, never bothered to make the extra effort. I shake my head and concentrate on the task at hand. “Okay, buddy. Are you going to help me cook too?”
Mason rolls his eyes. “Maybe just a little. But I promised Parker we would play video games for a bit.”
I take in a big, slow breath. I swear part of me wants to chuck the console in the garbage. But now I don’t even have a leg to stand on when colleges have eSports teams. Or the multi-million-dollar prize tournaments. Who would’ve thought gaming would become a profession?
Not me.
“You can play for a bit, but you did promise to help out.”
Mason switches the bag of groceries to his other side. “Dad, I know, and I want to. Just not the cooking part.”
“Fine.”
Mason sets down the bag of food next to the stove and takes off. My son seems to be in better spirits when he’s here, but there are still issues at school, ones he refuses to share with me or Lisa, no matter how many times we ask. If only the boy would communicate, maybe we’d be able to find a solution. Not sure how I can expect the kid to understand that when the adults around him are still struggling with it, though.
After placing the bags in my arms down on the counter, I grab my phone and open the ebook app. Two days ago I purchased some recipe books for ideas on what to cook that Riley would also be able to eat. Then I had the great idea of surprising her with a dinner made especially for her by me.
So far everything is going to plan. The store had fresh salmon and all the other ingredients that I need to make the avocado-pineapple salsa. The pictures in the ebook make the plate look mouthwatering. Hopefully, I can replicate it. I can cook, had to growing up, especially with both parents working more than one job. I also enjoy the idea of having someone to cook for. Though, I don’t want to end up like Stephens, always cooking for Taya.
I snort, imagining Taya attempting to help. She’d most likely end up rubbing her eyes after cutting up the jalapeño and onions. Not sure how Stephens manages. Taya has nearly set fire to the kitchen a couple of times, twice after giving birth to Otto. My teammate claims it’s because his wife gets easily distracted by the baby, but I think Taya’s just not cut out to cook. Lord help Stephens and Otto. The only thing that woman should make for dinner is reservations.
After setting out the ingredients on the counter and making sure the recipe is pulled up on the screen, I get to work. Surprisingly the salsa is easy to prepare and the salmon will go in the oven in about twenty minutes.
Just enough time to set up for a romantic evening.
After washing my hands, I grab the flowers I purchased and carry them into the dining room. This is the one room I love in the house. The space is grand, to say the least. The huge mahogany table takes up most of the vast area. I place the flowers in the
center between two tall, silver candelabras holding smooth white candles.
Not sure when the fine china was last used, but tonight is as good as any holiday. Glad Lisa decided to leave it behind. Then again, with her upcoming wedding, I’m sure she’ll get something newer. Once the table is set, I head back into the kitchen and preheat the oven. Time to get ready myself.
After running up the stairs and into my room, I strip down and take a quick shower, planning what to wear. Suit sounds good. Just as I turn off the water, the oven beeper goes off. Time to cook the salmon. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I rush back downstairs and place the fish inside the oven to cook.
“Mason, time to get ready!”
Yup, my son decided he wanted to be our server for tonight. Granted, there was a bribe involving a Big Mac, which he leapt at, since he’s hardly ever allowed to eat fast food.
As I reach the stairs to head up to my room, Mason comes barreling up from the den. “What am I wearing?”
“Whatever you want.”
He frowns. “Well, what are you wearing?”
“A suit.”
Mason frowns. “I only have one, and it’s at Mom’s.”
I chuckle. “How about you wear a polo shirt and some khaki shorts?”
He nods and pushes past me, bounding up the stairs to his room. I follow, but turn right when I reach his door to get back to my room. Our room. The room Riley and I now share every night. The room where I fall asleep and wake up with her in my arms.
As I pull the suit from the closet from next to a row of her dresses, I spot my reflection. “Fucking hair is a mess.”
Just one other thing to do. No big deal. After a few minutes with a blow dryer, some gel, and a brush, my hair is perfect. Now to get dressed.
Thank God everything is ironed and I don’t have to add that to the list. Once my tie is in place and my jacket is buttoned, I head back downstairs and into the kitchen to check on the fish. A few more minutes and it will be done.
The front door closes. “Hello. I’m home.”
“Dad, she’s here.”
“Mason, don’t you look cute,” I hear Riley say from the other room.
“Wait until you see my dad.” The pride in his voice spreads a smile on my face.
A moment later Riley walks into the kitchen, takes in me in my suit and the dinner that’s underway with her mouth agape. “What’s going on?”
I walk over to place a kiss on her cheek. “Cooking my wife dinner.”
Her expression is blank for a second, then she giggles. The sound is like music to me. “Really? You didn’t have to do that.”
“Wanted to.” I spin her around and gently push her out of the kitchen, swatting her ass when she takes a step. “Go get ready. Food’s almost done.”
She must be excited, based on the little prance she does. While my wife freshens up, I grab the plates, then add the food to them. “Mason, remember, when you bring these in, do it one at a time. And be careful.”
“I know. I know. The dishes are super expensive. I remember Mommy telling me.” He rolls his eyes the same way that Riley does and somehow that makes my smile even bigger.
After tousling his hair, I grab the bottle of Dr. Hermann from the fridge. The Riesling should go well with the fish. Had it before and it is one of my favorite—semisweet with a hint of pineapple.
Once the bottle is popped open, I fill our glasses. Mason wants to be in charge of the pitcher of water, so the second glass remains empty.
A few minutes later, Riley comes into the dining room wearing some kind of silky coral dress with a neckline that plunges down, leaving an exposed strip of skin that has my mouth watering at the idea of pressing my lips to it. Her blond hair cascades around her shoulders, her blue eyes sparkle, and her skin has a glow to it as if happiness is radiating from her. I know it’s not just her time at the beach making her look that way and the thought of giving her that glow makes me puff out my chest a bit.
And fuck, do I want to forget about dinner and head back upstairs to bury myself deep in her. That’ll make her glow. But Mason is here, and I didn’t cook this dinner to let it spoil on the counter.
I clear my throat and rein my libido back in. “You are breathtaking.”
“Not so bad yourself.” She bites her bottom lip as her gaze roams over me, halting momentarily at the semi-growing bulge between my legs. “Looks like I have an idea about what may be for dessert.”
While her words heat my blood, they also remind me of the fact there was something I forgot. Dessert. Scratching the back of my head, I shoot her a sheepish grin. “Hope it’ll do since anything truly edible isn’t on the menu. Sort of slipped my mind.”
She leans in and bites my earlobe. “It’ll do.”
Sucking in a breath, I lead her over to where she will be sitting before I end up throwing her on the table to make her my main course. Once she is situated, I take a seat myself.
Riley stares at me, a questioning look on her face. “Um, I know you have a plan and all, but . . . where’s the food?”
No sooner does she finish the sentence when Mason comes in carrying her plate. “Good evening. I will be your server for tonight. Today’s special is . . . Dad, what is this?”
The corners of my mouth lift into a grin so wide, my teeth must be showing. I can’t help it. My son is the best. He fills my heart with such joy. “Salmon with avocado-and-pineapple salsa.”
He turns back to Riley. “Fish with salsa.”
Riley busts out laughing and takes the plate. “Thank you, sir.”
Mason nods, then runs off into the kitchen, reappearing a few seconds later with my food. Instead of the politeness Riley got, he plops the dish down in front of me, sending some pieces of pineapple bouncing onto the table.
“That will be deducted from your tip, young man.”
He stops mid-stride. “Wait. You were paying me?”
“Yeah, right.” If he were getting paid, that money would go directly to Inara for all the things my son and my best friend have broken of hers. Seriously, Martinez is the worst babysitter. “Now, go back to the kitchen and eat your own dinner.”
“Okay.” Mason turns to Riley. “Do you want some water before I go?”
“Sure, that will be great.”
He shoots her a thumbs-up, then grabs the pitcher off the buffet and fills her glass. He then fills mine and places the pitcher back where he found it. He leaves the room after giving us both a deep bow.
Riley slaps the table, full-on snort-laughing. “Oh my God, where did that kid get his sense of humor from? Certainly not you.”
“Tony. Hangs out way too much with him.”
Riley picks up her fork and digs into the meal. I wait, wanting to know what she thinks. Her eyes close as she chews. “This is so good. You have to give me the recipe.”
My muscles relax a bit. Finally did something right. “Found it in a book of recipes for people with Crohn’s.”
Riley jerks her head in my direction. “You . . . got a book of what to cook? For me?”
I nod.
She blinks rapidly, but I catch how her eyes grow wet. Definitely did the right thing.
We eat while we chat about her day and some of the kids she worked with. I fill her in on my day, at least what I’m allowed to tell her. Mason comes in and checks on us every so often. This time when he pops in, he runs over and gives me a hug, then turns to Riley. “Wanna play video games when you are done eating?”
“Maybe, but I’m not sure what your dad has planned.”
“He’s gotta clean up.” Mason turns to me, the most evil smirk on his face. “I can’t because I might break the expensive plates.”
Yup, definitely influenced by my best friend. Martinez is going to hear about this. “Why don’t you go set Riley’s game up? She’ll be down once we’re done.”
Mason nods and runs off.
“Hope you don’t mind. Haven’t seen my son this happy since he and Lisa moved out. He’s almost like
his old self.” My throat tightens. If only I could fix whatever is going on with him, make it so he’s always this happy.
Riley takes my hand in hers. “Moving had to have been tough. I’m sure being back here makes him feel comfortable. It’s where he grew up. Maybe he just needs a little more time to adjust to his new school and for them to adjust to him.”
“You’re probably right.”
We go back to eating, but my thoughts drift back to my son. I love him with all my heart. If I’d been around more, instead of being gone so much on deployments and for training, Mason might still live here. Lisa might not have left. I swallow hard, forcing the fish I’d been chewing past the growing knot in my throat.
Going forward, I vow to do better by my son. I have to. And from how much he’s taken to Riley, that means making sure I do right by her as well.
Chapter Seventeen
Riley
This online training is boring as hell. I seriously can’t wait for it to be over. I click on the next module and the speaker begins talking. Okay, time to concentrate and take notes. There’s a quiz at the end and I need to pass it. No way am I going to sit through this again.
My phone buzzes.
Lucas. A smile spreads across my face. I look forward to hearing his voice. The past weeks have been amazing. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this happy.
I tap the talk button and put the call on speaker so I can continue writing. “Hi, handsome.”
“Hey, Cupcake. Listen, I need to ask you a favor.”
This can’t be good. He knows I’ve got online training for the new job. He wouldn’t ask unless there really wasn’t another choice. “What’s up?”
“Running late at work. Mason has a parent-teacher conference in a bit. I was supposed to head over there, find out what’s been going on and see if the school had any ideas on how to help Mason adjust.” Lucas goes silent for a moment, then his sigh echoes through the speaker. “Would you mind going?”
All the reasons not to do this come flooding in. A soft panic settles in that can grow or fade depending on what I do next. Mason isn’t my child and God only knows how Lisa will react because sure as shit the teacher will mention my presence to her.
Assigned (Navy Seals of Little Creek Book 3) Page 12