I slowly get up from my chair and walk over to him. When I place my arms across his broad back, he lifts his head, startled, and suddenly stands. I’m a little taken aback and when he looks down at me I feel oddly uncomfortable. But then he gently hugs me in return and my discomfort disappears. He is like a gentle giant and I don’t feel scared at all. In fact his embrace is welcome. It’s been so long since I’ve felt a warm body and strong arms around me. We linger like this for a moment.
Ryder pulls his head back and he drops his arms. “Dinner was delicious. I’m sorry if I darkened the mood.” His mouth turns down slightly.
“Don’t be silly. I enjoy the company. This house has been pretty quiet and dull for a while. I’m happy to have Brandon now and he’s definitely brightened my world, but it’s nice to spend time with an adult too.” I give his shoulder a squeeze. I look down at the table. “I should clean up before Brandon—”
Right on cue, I hear Brandon’s sweet noises from the other room. I laugh.
“You go to him.” Ryder tilts his chin toward the living room. “I’ll clean up.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. I like having him here but I don’t want to take advantage.
“Yes. Please. Go.”
In the living room Brandon is stretching his arms out and his little body curls. He’s so delicious. I smile down at him. “Hey there, buddy. Are you hungry? Thanks for giving your mom some time to eat.” We settle on the couch and Brandon gets right to it. I hear Ryder clamoring with the dishes in the background so I know there’s no danger of boob flashing at the moment.
After a few moments his voice calls from the kitchen, “Hey, I’m all done in here. Do you need more time in there?”
His voice with its husky, deep timbre reminds me so much of Thomas. A sudden wave of worry washes over me. Am I missing Thomas so much—so entrenched in my past with him—that I’ve latched on to Ryder in a way that’s completely outside of reality? I’ve been through so much that it’s hard to understand my wants and needs right now.
“He’ll be done in a few more minutes,” I call out.
“No worries. Take your time. I’ll hang out in here for a while.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Hey,” he says again. And I smile over the fact we’re carrying on a conversation between the two rooms. “I know it’s getting kinda late, but do you want to watch a movie?”
I look at the grandfather clock and see that it’s only eight o’clock. I think about what I normally do in the evenings—how I usually get into bed and stare at the ceiling. And think of Thomas. Watching a movie with Ryder sounds a lot more appealing. It would be okay to hang out with him some more. He’s a friend.
“Sure,” I reply. Brandon has finished eating so I say, “We’re all done in here. You can come in any time.”
He strides into the room. “I’m going to take a quick shower and change clothes. I don’t want to sit on your nice couch with paint-spattered clothes. I’ll be back in a few?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll give Brandon a bath.”
“Okay. Uh, do you want me to carry him up the stairs for you?”
“Thanks, Ryder. I’d appreciate that. How is your knee feeling?”
“No worries,” he answers, walking over to me. “Do you want to put that blanket on me or something…so his face doesn’t touch this crusty shirt?”
Oh wow! Was he really just considerate enough to ask that? My stomach flips. I know I can’t be swooning right now.
“Thanks,” I say again. I stand and place the little burp blanket on Ryder’s shoulder. I hand him Brandon and he cradles him in his thick arms. Brandon’s face rests against the blanket on his chest, and, of course, all kinds of foolish thoughts swirl in my head. Like how good they both look like that, and how it seems as though Ryder would make a great father. And how much I long for Brandon to have a dad someday.
I force my thoughts to shut down and I follow Ryder up the stairs. He tells me, “I put Brandon’s crib in your room. The man at the store said it was low-fume paint, but I figure he’s so tiny it would be better for him in there.”
“Thanks, Ryder,” I say and he walks over to my room and places Brandon slowly in his crib. Then his gaze lingers on me for a moment.
“So I’ll see you soon,” he says.
I’m almost breathless when I reply, “Just come in when you’re ready. If I’m not down yet you can look for a movie on the TV. What kind of movies do you like?” I feel like I’m babbling. I’m nervous and I need to chill the heck out.
Ryder shrugs and looks at me blankly. “I don’t know.”
Shit! “I’m sorry. I’ll come help you choose when we’re ready.” I shouldn’t have asked that.
“Sure. See you soon,” he says, turning and limping out of my room. I hear the stairs creek as he slowly makes his way down each step. I leave Brandon in his crib and turn on his little mobile that plays a soft Mozart tune. As I prepare his bath, I try to relax. I can do this. I can watch a movie with a man who isn’t Thomas. Ryder is a friend. Ryder is a friend.
***
Half hour later Brandon is bathed and wearing a clean blue sleeper. I’ve showered too and I’ve thrown on a pair of black yoga pants and a grey shirt.
Ryder is only a friend. I repeat the mantra. This is not a date. There is no point in trying to look pretty so I wear something totally basic to drill home the point. My wet hair is in a messy bun and completely unattractive.
I carry Brandon down the stairs and find Ryder sitting on the couch and holding the remote control.
“I hope this is okay,” he says.
“Of course it is.” I smile at him and take a seat on the opposite end of the couch. He’s wearing what looks like a new shirt and jeans and I realize he must have bought them today.
“So what should we watch?” I ask and he passes me the remote control.
“You decide,” he says, smiling.
“Sure.” The TV is one of the only new things in this house. It’s a smart TV and we have Netflix. It was the one thing Thomas and I decided to splurge on. As I flick through the movies I ask Ryder, “What are you in the mood for? Action, drama, romance…” I look into his blue eyes.
“Honestly, I don’t care,” he replies.
“This one looks good,” I say, pausing my scrolling on a comedy starring Ben Stiller. “Jenny saw it in the theaters and said it was hysterically funny.” I don’t know why I feel nervous about something as basic as choosing a movie.
“Whatever you like,” he says. “I guess The Heartbreak Kid it is.” He sinks down into the couch. He folds his hands over his abdomen and I begin to download the movie. Brandon has fallen asleep in my arms and I put him in the bassinet. The movie begins and I try to get comfortable on the couch.
“When are the bandages coming off?” I whisper to Ryder as the introductions start. I like the scent of his soap. I like the smell of him.
Stop it Halo! I chide myself again.
“Tomorrow,” he whispers back, facing the television.
My stomach does somersaults. I’m both excited and anxious to see his face. It’s been strange talking to the bandages. The scent of him wafts over me again. Sweet Jesus!
It’s not like I want to do anything sexual anyway. My body is still healing from the trauma of a C-section and two rounds of stitches. I shake my head, hoping he hasn’t noticed me making any strange faces while this dialogue continues in my mind.
You’re angry at Thomas. This is what this is. You know you would never touch another man, my inner self argues, and I know she’s right.
I get out of my head and focus on the movie. Ben Stiller is hilarious and I find myself giggling a lot. Ryder laughs too. It’s definitely a funny movie, but there are some awkward sexual scenes that make me feel a little uncomfortable. An hour into the movie I yawn. This is now a late night for me. When I stretch out my arms, I notice Ryder pulls his gaze momentarily from the television to look at me. I settle into the cushions and try to concentrate o
n the screen.
Without realizing it I must have fallen asleep. When I awake, the movie is just about to finish. I’m also lying in the crook of Ryder’s arm. It feels nice. The yummy man smell wafts up my nose again.
“I’m sorry.” I look up at him and apologize.
“Please don’t. This feels nice.” I don’t move or say anything else. He’s right. It feels nice.
He suddenly begins to caress my hand. It’s a rhythmic motion—almost like he’s making love to this one small part of my body. It feels good, but I’m not sure if I should pull away.
His chin tilts and, as he looks down at our hands, I see his eyes go wide. He shoots up to a standing position. “Jesus! I’m sorry… That was inappropriate of me. I’m not sure why I did that.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Would you like me to go?” he asks.
“No, Ryder, it’s fine. Let’s just finish watching the movie.” I’m not sure what’s happening. Did he not realize what he was doing? Maybe he was zoned out. Or maybe he was just doing what his “old” self would have done? I wonder.
The movie continues and Ryder keeps to his side of the couch, his hands perched carefully on his torso. A part of me wishes I was back in his embrace.
The movie ends and I don’t know if it’s hormones or emotions or the fact I don’t know how or what to feel about the man sitting next to me, but suddenly I feel tears tracking down my face. Which is ridiculous because it was a funny ending. And because it’s what I do every time I get emotional, I think of Thomas. I wonder where he is, if he’ll ever come back, if he’ll ever meet his son—
“You’re upset,” Ryder interrupts my misery.
“It’s my hormones,” I blame, shaking my head.
“Come here,” he says, placing his arms gently around me. “It’s your husband isn’t it? The movie made you think of him.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Yes,” I sigh sadly.
“Why did he leave? I mean if you don’t mind me asking,” he murmurs. He always seems unsure, like he’s wondering if he’s asking or doing the right thing. I attribute it to the amnesia.
I can’t look him in the eye when I begin to speak, but I know he’s listening intently. “He came back from a deployment really messed up. He spent most days in bed. I found out I was pregnant and he didn’t take the news well. He had a hard time growing up. His upbringing was always a chip on his shoulder. It didn’t matter what I did to try to make him feel better—his past haunted him. He was scared of being a shitty father like his own dad. I think he was so messed up from Iraq that everything just threw him for a loop and he left. Jenny and Dave told me he was going to deploy again. I don’t even know how the navy allowed him back on active duty because he was such a mess. The only explanation I can make is that it was more important for him to return to his friends and comrades overseas than to be with me.”
I wipe away my tears and continue, “Being a soldier was first to him. I should have prepared myself, because the first day I met him he told me his plan was to be a SEAL. It was his dream. When he returned the first time it took a few weeks to readjust to civilian life but he did. He was my hero fighting terrorists in Afghanistan. When troops were called into Iraq he left again. All my friends were having babies. I was jealous and scared that my chance to have children would pass. Unfortunately, when we did finally conceive he didn’t view it as a good thing. I knew he dedicated his life to being a SEAL. I also thought he was dedicated to me too. He was messed up when he left, but I hoped he would come to his senses and return home. I haven’t heard from him since the night I told him about Brandon. Then the divorce papers came and I didn’t contest them. Soldiers don’t need to be on home soil to file for divorce. The divorce was finalized and that was the end of our relationship.”
“Shit, Halo. That sounds rough. I’m sorry you had to go through that. It makes me wonder why I got divorced at such a young age. I haven’t looked through my file yet. I’ve only seen my basic information and I was divorced under marital status.” His thick voice drifts off.
“So you don’t know anything about your ex?” I finally look up and ask him.
I hate myself for asking the question. I’m not asking for his sake. I’m suddenly asking for my own. I like having him around and I wonder if his ex-wife will walk into our lives and somehow stake a claim on him. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. If I knew where Thomas was right now I would probably do the same. Geez! It also makes me wonder if Thomas has found the company of other women or a specific woman. The thought makes my stomach roil.
“No, I haven’t looked into it. I feel like it’s unfair to search for someone until I get my own answers.” His reply causes my heart to sink. I don’t know what I was thinking. This man is only here to rent space from me. Clearly I didn’t expect him to be a permanent fixture around here. I really am loopy from all these hormones.
“Let me help you get Brandon upstairs,” he says, smiling down at me.
“Thanks, Ryder.” I smile back warmly and retrieve Brandon from the bassinet. I pass him into Ryder’s able arms.
“He really is a handsome fellow,” he says looking down at Brandon with warm eyes. Then he turns toward the stairs and I follow close by, enjoying the masculine scent of his body wash. Although he moves stiffly, I sense doing this for me makes him feel good.
In my bedroom Ryder places Brandon gently into his crib. This almost feels routine. He turns to look at me in the dark room. Moonlight shines in through the window, giving a slight glare off his bandages. “Thank you for tonight. I had fun.” His mouth curls at the corners. His eyes train on my lips and my heart flutters.
“Yeah, it was fun,” I reply, trying not to give away how flustered I feel. He leans forward and my heart plummets. I’ve never been with anyone else besides my husband. He continues to lean forward and my breath catches as he makes contact with my cheek and then quickly pulls back.
“You have a good night,” he says, stepping away. “I can lock up for you downstairs.” After he leaves, my hand goes up to touch my cheek in the spot where his lips just connected. I sit on the bed and will myself to breathe. I can’t even describe what I’m feeling. A part of me feels guilty for the brief kiss because this is the room Thomas and I once shared. A part of me feels turned on and a part of me really likes Ryder. I slowly climb into bed and stare at the ceiling. I think about Ryder’s words from earlier—how he won’t go looking for his wife because he doesn’t know who he is. What if something bad happened to Thomas and that’s what kept him away from us? Realistically I know that’s not the case. I was in touch with some of the other wives on the team. Thomas is on active duty. He left me and I need to accept the finality of what that means.
Chapter Fifteen
Ryder
I head back downstairs and make sure the doors are locked before I head back out to the garage apartment. I don’t know why I reached out to kiss her like that. I wish I could kick my own ass now for doing it. I wonder if it will make things awkward between us now.
Dammit. I couldn’t help myself. She’s so pretty and that smile of hers lit up the dark room and before I could even register my feelings, my lips connected with her soft skin. I knew to be gentle. I understand she’s fragile. I was there when she fell in the hospital and saw the blood run through her gown. I was worried for her but I tried to distract her. I figured panicking at the sight of the blood would have been no help.
The garage is cold and I take off my jeans and put on a hoodie. I didn’t buy any pajamas. I’m not sure if I am a pajama kind of guy. I get into bed and the old mattress creeks. I pull the covers up to my chin and stare up at the plastered ceiling. This place is frigid. I don’t want to bother Halo, but I am thinking that maybe I can take a look at the heating myself.
Tomorrow I’ll finish the little guy’s room and then I’ll ask Halo if she’ll let me paint the rest of her house. Hell, looking at the floorboards on the main floor, I was thinking that they could use a good sanding and some new
varnish. I am not sure how I know these things or if I was handy before. I figure it’s a good way to keep my mind busy while spending time with Halo and that cute baby of hers.
I close my eyes and feel myself drifting.
The air is stagnant and musty. I’m in my fatigues with a gun in my hands and ammunition strapped across my body. There’s another SEAL walking in front of me holding a long gun. There’s another SEAL behind me holding a smaller gun. We’re walking along a dirt road. The sun is blaring above us. I can feel sweat trickle down the back of my knees. We’re scoping the area. There are insurgents here. We have to be careful that one of them doesn’t pull a fast one on us. We have to set ourselves up so we have the backs of the marine unit coming in. We enter an old vacated building.
“Top floor,” the man behind me shouts. I don’t turn back as we enter the building and make our way up three flights of stairs. This uniform is fucking heavy but not as heavy as the artillery I’m carrying. The SEAL begins to set up and I assist behind him, prepping all our ammunition.
“Are we ready?” I ask, looking at the man ahead of me.
“All good,” he responds.
He sets himself up. He’s the sniper. I’m just here to assist and provide cover. We use our binoculars and spot the insurgents hiding in a building across from us. Motherfuckers have a sniper set up. Well, fuck them.
“Insurgents, across,” I announce to the SEAL, who takes the binoculars.
“Motherfuckers have three small kids with them,” he bites out.
Fuck. Why do they have to go dragging their kids into this war? They don’t fucking value life like we do that’s for fucking sure. He shoots and hits the insurgent beside the sniper. Now we’ve been spotted by the sniper for sure. A long run of shots are fired, and it’s fucking hard on the ears. I wonder if one of those bullets will end up inside me. I fucking hope not. I lie flat on the ground, waiting for the gunfire to cease. When the sniper has an open shot he closes in on the insurgent sniper and shoots. He’s fucking awesome—I’ll give him that. A bunch of insurgents begin shooting wildly. I pick up my rifle and get three clean hits.
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