by Ranae Rose
“Your mother and I spent more than twenty years trying to give you the best life possible. We thought about your future every day. Then, out of nowhere, you enlisted. You changed everything. And when you left, I was sure you were never going to come back to us alive. I just knew you’d get shot, or hit by one of those fucking bombs they’re always talking about on TV.”
“Yeah, I got hit by one of those fucking bombs. Sorry. Sorry that made everything so fucking hard for you and mom.” His head was swimming now, and he was frozen in his chair, fearing what would happen when he regained the ability to move.
“No. That’s not what I meant. Or at least, if it was at first, I see how stupid that was now. I’m sorry. Ryan, your mother and I are both sorry, but really, it’s my fault, not hers. Don’t blame her. She’s so happy to have you back, don’t… Don’t reject her because of my stupid mistake.”
Hell had frozen over. Maybe there were a few pigs flying somewhere high above the skyline – Patrick Moore had apologized. As far as Ryan knew, it was a first. And it didn’t wash away his anger, or wipe any slates clean. But it did stun him enough to give him time to think before answering.
“Fine. You’re right – the way you acted was a stupid mistake. But just so you know, I don’t think my decision to join the Marine Corps was a stupid mistake. I don’t regret it, and—”
“I don’t expect you to.” Patrick cut him off, leaning across the table, his grey-green eyes disconcertingly earnest. “I’m sorry for acting like you were selfish for joining the military, for trying to guilt-trip you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realize that I handled it all wrong. And now, I’m sitting across from you and all I can think about is how I don’t even know my own son. And that’s something I regret. If you’ll let me, I want to change that.”
He couldn’t answer that – not yet, and not directly. So he just sat there, stone-silent and secretly grateful when the waiter appeared with their salads. Just their salads. They’d be there for a while yet, and his father probably wouldn’t get back to work before two o’ clock.
He could deal with that. Truth was, it was sort of a relief to have everything out there. He’d kept it inside for so long that it felt good just to have his words echoing through the atmosphere. Anything was better than keeping everything bottled up and having lonely conversations inside his head, ones where he imagined how his father would respond to his accusations.
Now, he finally knew. And the truth was better than what he’d imagined.
* * * * *
Ryan’s thigh ached from having sat for so long in the back of a taxi, crammed between his shopping bags and stuck in traffic, unable to fully extend his leg. It didn’t matter; he was glowing on the inside as he pulled a carton of eggs from one of the bags. He’d stopped at a grocery store on his way home from his lunchtime meeting with his father. And before that, he’d stopped at a jeweler’s.
“There are a lot of things I want to show you, a lot of places I want to take you. All the tourist-y sights you haven’t seen yet, my favorite places and even my old training gym. But for tonight, I thought we could stay in and have our first meal together in our new home.” He looked over his shoulder at Ally and fought to suppress a smile, afraid that his expression would give away his plans.
Hopefully, what he was about to ask would come as a surprise. A pleasant one. Though really, if she had any idea how he felt about her, she wouldn’t be shocked at all. And he liked to think that he’d already conveyed his love somehow, even if he could never verbalize exactly how strong it was.
“That sounds great.” Ally sat at the kitchen table, leaning on its surface while sitting in one of the chairs his mother had picked out.
“I’ll cook,” he said, opening the fridge.
“I take it that means we’ll be having breakfast for dinner?”
He found the bag of tomatoes he’d already put away and selected one. “Of course. It’s either omelets or some other meal burnt beyond recognition. So I’ll be playing it safe, but don’t worry – I bought bacon.”
“Well, that makes everything all right.”
Hopefully it would. If it didn’t, they could always go out for dinner. But it was already dusk – he’d taken his time at the jeweler’s – and the idea of staying in, where they could be as close and happy as they wanted, without intrusion, was undeniably appealing.
Besides, the day had been taxing for both of them. His mother had invited Ally out for a lunch date while he’d been at one with his father; Ally had filled him in on that as soon as he’d arrived home.
She’d also sworn up and down that it had been a relatively pleasant meeting and that his mother had been perfectly nice, but he still felt bad that she’d been caught off guard like that. It was obvious that his mother had used Ally as a way to try to get information on him. She’d even sent Ally home with the name and number of an acupuncture place that a friend of hers swore helped with her migraines.
He’d try the place out. What did he have to lose? If it helped, he’d thank his mother. If not, no harm done. It wasn’t like he could claim to be afraid of needles when his entire back was covered in hours’ worth of tattoo work.
“Can I help?” Ally asked just as the bacon began to sizzle.
“You can dice this tomato if you really want to. Just be careful not to strain your arm.”
As she set to work, he dug through one of the shopping bags, pulling out the only non-food items he’d purchased at the grocery store.
“A candlelit dinner?” she asked.
He grinned as he set two candles on the table and tore open the packaging of a plastic lighter. “Yeah.”
When they were done cooking, he dimmed the kitchen lights. The candles provided just the right amount of soft illumination. The normally cool-toned kitchen was cast in shades of gold and orange, which complimented Ally’s warm complexion and contrasted nicely against the purplish evening sky beyond the nearest window. When Ally turned to face him, the sight of her face by candlelight took his breath away.
“Ally,” he said, gripping her good hand when he could breathe again. Dinner was sitting on the counter, untouched. He’d planned to wait until after they’d eaten, but he couldn’t resist – the moment felt perfect, and he just couldn’t wait any longer. He’d been tired of waiting hours ago, when he’d realized he could definitely make things work in New York. It would be hard, at times, but he could do it. “Before we eat, there’s something I want to tell you. And something I want to ask you.”
She gazed back at him, eyes wide and dark. Beautiful. “What is it?”
“I love you in a way I could never love anyone else. A part of me knew that the first time I laid eyes on you, and I knew it for sure the first time I ate breakfast with you. I want to spend every night with you and eat breakfast with you every morning for the rest of my life.” His heart pounded against his ribs as he spoke the truest words that had ever left his lips.
“When we were at the hospital and you pretended to be my fiancée, I couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like if that were true. Thinking about it hurt because I wanted it so bad, even though I thought you deserved someone better than me. But if you think I can make you happy, I know I can. Ally…” He reached into his jeans pocket, where he’d carefully placed her ring. He’d taken it out of its box, not wanting the shape to give it away. “Will you marry me?”
It was a classic engagement ring – a sparkling diamond on a golden band. It hadn’t been cheap, but it would be worth it if she said yes.
“Yes.”
His heart pounded even harder as he took her left hand, lifting it as slowly and carefully as he could. “I know your fingers have been a little swollen since the shooting.” He caressed her slightly-enlarged ring finger. “I figured the display ring was probably a size or two larger than you’d normally need. We can have it sized down later, when your arm is fully healed.”
“Okay.” She sounded a little short on breath, but happy.
It fit nicely. He breathed a small sigh of relief – now that she’d accepted the ring, it was intensely gratifying to see it sparkling on her finger.
“It’s beautiful. When…” Her eyes searched his, wide and shining.
“I got it while I was out this afternoon. I wanted to ask you before, but I couldn’t – not in the aftermath of the shooting. So I decided to wait until we got here. I figured this could be a part of our fresh start.”
“The ring is beautiful. I love you.”
“I love you too.” He released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist instead, drawing her close and lowering his mouth to hers.
Her lips were hot and soft. When she parted them, he slipped his tongue past their edges, letting her sweet taste flood his mouth. Their bodies were pressed tight together, and he could feel her heart beat. He slid a hand lower, over the curve of her hip, seeking the heat between her thighs.
Maybe it had been a waste to cook dinner – the food would be cold by the time they got to it, if they got to it at all. Ally was arching against him, slipping her tongue past his as she gripped him, one hand against his chest. Dinner didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she wore the ring he’d given her on one hand, and the other rested over his heart.
Epilogue
“What do you think?” Still in her work clothes, Ally grinned as she pulled something out of a pale blue paper bag. “I picked them up today during my lunch break.”
He knew that. He’d been in a lunch meeting earlier that day at work and she’d texted him to let him know that since they wouldn’t be able to eat together, she’d be picking up their wedding invitations.
“They’re perfect.” The cream-colored paper was thick and textured, embossed with golden scrolling around the edges. The invitations were elegant, classy. But the craftsmanship was nothing compared to the way his heart surged ahead when he laid eyes on the date in the center of the topmost invitation, a Saturday in April.
Only a few months away. They’d been living together in New York for more than six months, and a part of him ached to be married to her already. She was everything to him; if it hadn’t been for the fact that they were waiting for her father to be released from prison, he would’ve made her Mrs. Moore months ago.
“I can’t wait for it to be April,” Ally said. “I can’t wait to send these out, either. My aunts and cousins have been calling me every weekend asking how the wedding preparations are going. Now I’ll have something to send them.”
Setting down the invitations, he took her by the hand, lifting it so that her engagement ring caught the early evening light filtering in through the kitchen window. Even this late in the day, the stone sparkled. “I’m looking forward to it too.”
“I know… I wish we didn’t have to wait so long, but I’m happy that my father will be able to attend. He’s excited, and so is mamá. When I was on the phone with her last week, she said that coming to our wedding with papá at her side is going to be the happiest day of her life.”
A bitter-sweet pinprick of emotion pierced Ryan’s chest. If anyone could use some happiness, it was Maria. She’d lost her son permanently and her daughter had moved away. Attending the wedding with her husband finally free and at her side probably would be the happiest day of her life, or at least, the happiest day she’d had in a long time. “Have they decided whether they’ll move up here after your father is released?”
“They’ve been talking about it. I don’t think they’re sure yet, but they’re seriously considering it.”
He nodded and gripped her hand a little more tightly. “Missed you at lunch today. I like the job, but man, do the lunchtime meetings suck.”
Since Ally had decided to take advantage of her new beginning by taking a position in the finance department at Greene & Jacobs, they tried to eat lunch together as often as possible. Usually in his office, where they were always able to think of something to do if they finished eating early.
“Just wait,” she said, grinning. “If I keep taking night classes I’ll zoom up the corporate ladder and end up with a corner office like you. Then we can call meetings together all the time.”
“I’m pretty sure my dad would give you a corner office now if you asked for it.” It wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Ally was taking college courses at night of her own free will, even though Patrick had made it clear that he wouldn’t mind exercising his influence to get her a job that traditionally required a degree.
“You know me; I’m stubborn,” she said. “I want to feel like I’ve earned it. Getting together in your office during breaks is fine for now. And at this rate I figure I’ll have a degree in oh, seven or eight years.”
“Do you have to study tonight? Because if you don’t, I can think of something else we can do.” She was still wearing her work clothes, but no skirt suit could hide her amazing curves, no matter how grey, buttoned-up or typically corporate.
“It’s gym night, remember?” She shrugged out of her blazer, revealing a blouse that showed just a hint of cleavage.
It was enough to make him ache at the thought of spending the next couple hours watching her move around in one of her spandex workout outfits. “Yeah. But after the gym?”
She smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. “I studied extra hard last night so I could spend the evening with you today.”
“Let’s get to the gym then. The faster we get there, the faster we can get back here.” Though he loved spending time with her at his original MMA gym, he was totally serious. It was a mark of how much she’d changed his life that he was scheming how to speed through their workouts and make it back to the apartment.
He followed her to the bedroom, where he died a little inside as she stripped down to nothing. He forced himself to keep his hands to himself – mostly – as she rummaged through a dresser drawer and pulled out workout clothing.
“You’re not trying to skip out on gym night, are you?” she asked as he ran a hand down her back, tracing the curve of her spine and cupping one of her panty-clad ass cheeks, unable to resist.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Really?” she asked, arching a brow as she turned to face him, bending at the waist as she slipped one foot into a pair of stretchy cropped pants.
“Okay, I’m dreaming of it – fantasizing about what I’d do if we didn’t have to go anywhere right now – but I want to go.”
It wasn’t like they were competing or anything, but going to the gym and training had been a part of their relationship ever since the beginning. It felt right, and he vividly remembered the look of joy that had lit up her face the first time she’d thrown a punch with her left arm after finally being given clearance to train by her physical therapist.
The bullet wounds were just scars now, round and pink. She moved well, gracefully, and it was a pleasure to watch. Sometimes the scar tissue pained her, and on those days, he tried to help her through the frustration she usually made an effort to hide.
Wounds left scars, and sometimes pain came back to haunt bodies and hearts that were supposed to have healed. He knew that. He also knew it was easier to keep it in perspective, to live with things, if you had someone who reminded you what it felt like not to hurt.
She rocked up onto her toes, pressing a kiss against his jaw. Bending his neck to meet her, he pressed his mouth to hers and shut his eyes, melting into oblivion for a few moments.
“Are you going to change out of that suit or what?” she asked when the kiss ended.
“Only if you help me.” He shrugged out of his jacket and froze, looking down at his shirt and then at her.
She smiled and unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, letting her short nails scrape against his chest in a way that sent a frisson prickling down his spine, hot and electric. When his shirt hung open he slid out of it and pulled off his undershirt, too.
Pressing her palms against his chest, she stared up at him, dark eyes unblinking. “Why do I fe
el like I’ve fallen into some sort of trap?” Her neutral expression shattered on the last word as her lips curled into a teasing smile.
He drew in a sharp breath as she flexed her fingers, letting their tips dig into his skin. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Pressing a hand behind her head, he drew her close and leaned down. “You know, the gym is open late. We have plenty of time. One more kiss won’t hurt.”
It didn’t hurt at all – that was the beauty of it.
Want more of Ryan & Ally?
Experience Ally’s side of the story in Battered Not Broken – Ryan and Ally’s love story told from Ally’s point of view. Full-length novel, now available.
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About the Author
Ranae Rose is a best-selling author of over a dozen contemporary, paranormal and historical romances, all of them delightfully steamy. She lives on the US East Coast with her husband, child, German Shepherd dogs and overflowing bookshelves. She spends most of her time letting her very active imagination run wild, penning her next story. When she's not writing or lost in her latest read, she can usually be found indulging her love of her two favorite sports - martial arts and horseback riding.
You can find out more about Ranae and her books at…
www.ranaerose.com