The one thing Sunday was adamant on was that she would not stay over. They would make love, then Sunday would slip from River’s bed, kiss him goodbye, and go home. They weren’t hiding their relationship, as such, but Sunday told him that it was too soon for Berry to see them together.
She also had to figure out how she felt about the whole thing. Her body craved his touch constantly, but he still remained an enigma to her. If she was forced to hide her past, then River was choosing to keep things from her. Sunday couldn’t blame him—she didn’t have the right to demand he tell her anything, but she felt he was keeping something big from her, something he would only talk to Luke about. It left her feeling as if there were a chasm between them that might never be breached—and at the moment, she was okay with that.
She spent a lot of time with Berry, amazing herself at how easily she found being in the young girl’s company. She had never aspired to be a mother, and she would never try to replace Lindsay, but she discovered a bond with Berry that surprised her. Berry, wiser than her years, loved reading and often asked Sunday to come play with her in the little book den they had built for her.
River told Sunday to tell him if Berry was a distraction, but Sunday loved spending time with her. Sometimes, when Berry was feeling the loss of her mother keenly, Sunday would hold the little girl as she cried, and rocked her to sleep.
River came to Sunday’s office one afternoon as she was working. She was so absorbed in the diaries that she jumped slightly when she felt his arms slide around her. “Good afternoon, beautiful.”
She turned in her chair to smile at him. “Hey there. This is a nice surprise.”
River usually worked in his studio all day and they never interrupted him while he was working. River kissed her cheek and sat down on the couch. “I’ve been thinking … I should take you out on an official date.”
Sunday put her pen down. “You don’t have to. I’m not the wine and dine sort of girl.”
“I’d like to.” He smiled at her but she could see the turmoil in his face. She took his hands.
“River … there’s not a rulebook we have to follow. We can make up our own rules. Neither of us likes games, and forgive me for saying so, I don’t think either of us is ready for … a big commitment.”
She slightly regretted her words when she saw a flash of pain in his eyes. “That’s not to say I don’t want you. Of course, I do. I’m just not ready for more than what we have now. And to be honest, we still don’t know everything about each other. Or actually, much at all.” She tapped one of his father’s journals. “I feel I know more about your father than I do you.”
River was chewing his bottom lip, listening to her and he nodded. “I don’t share easily,” he began slowly, “but I’m trying. Some things, I’m just not ready for. But I know that I want you, that you are the person I would like to try and form a relationship with. I suck at these things,” he sat with a sudden laugh. “I really do. But, still, let me take you out. Even if it’s just for a coffee down at Daisy’s place.”
“We might run into Aria.”
“Aria’s a big girl and our fling was just that—a fling.”
Sunday considered and then nodded. “Okay, you’re on. We’ll have to get a sitter for Berry.”
This time, his grin was triumphant. “I already asked Carmen.”
“Sneaky.”
“You bet. So … later?”
Sunday’s eyebrows shot up. “Today?”
River grinned and leaned over to kiss her. “I’m impetuous. And impatient.”
She laughed, cupping his face in her hands. “Fine. Just let me do a couple more hours work.”
“Nerd.”
“Shut up.” She grinned at him—when he was like this, fun-loving, teasing—she could hardly believe it was the same man who had avoided her for so many weeks.
When he’d gone, his good mood had affected her, and Sunday did the one thing she’d sworn she would never do … she googled her old self. Marley Locke. The New York news sites were full of discussions on where she was, why she had left—a couple of wildly insulting rumors abounded, but Sunday had known that would happen—even down to the theories that she’d committed suicide.
To her dismay, she saw that Cory’s family had been hounded by the press, eager for answers. The photograph of his mother, looking drained and distressed, made her stomach hurt. I’m so sorry.
She watched the video of her co-anchors discussing what had happened—they told the truth—they had no idea when, where, and why Marley had gone. Sunday stared at the picture they showed of her, neat and professional in a tailored suit, blonde hair perfectly coiffed. Who was that person? She had thought she had made her life exactly what she wanted it to be, but looking back, she knew she had been groomed into becoming that person.
She sat back and saw her reflection in the huge glass window—dark hair messy, eyes wide and full of optimism, and knew that she would never be able to go back, even if the threats to her life weren’t there. “No more Marley. Not ever again.” She spoke the words softly but knew they meant everything.
She smiled to herself later on when River came to find her. He looked nervous and she knew that he was second-guessing his decision to go out in public for the first time in months. She held his hand. “Come on, big guy,” she murmured to him, kissing his mouth. “Let’s do this.”
The first person she saw as they entered Daisy’s coffeehouse was (of course, Sunday thought) Aria. Her expression registered surprise at seeing River then, as he eyes dropped to their clasped hands, her expression hardened and she turned away. Sunday felt sorry for her but didn’t say anything.
Daisy, in stark contrast, almost crowed with satisfaction when she saw them. “Well, it’s about damn time.”
She steered them to a private table near the window. “Usual?”
“Yes, please.” Sunday beamed at her and River chuckled.
“And what’s your usual? Some hideous concoction with pumpkin spice and coconut?”
Sunday grinned at him. “You guessed it. Bring River my usual, Daisy.” She winked at her friend, who giggled.
“Coming right up.”
River stroked Sunday’s cheek, smiling. “How is it I feel I’m being ganged up on?”
“Because you are. That’s the way it works.” Sunday took his hand and wound her fingers through it, touched when he didn’t pull away. “So that’s one thing I’ve learned about you. You don’t mind public displays of affection.”
He laughed. “I’ve never thought about it but no, I don’t. I get that from my parents. Italians, you see?”
“Such a stereotype.”
He grinned. “Maybe, but it’s true. Mom and Dad were very affectionate, to each other, to me. My grandparents too.”
“You must miss them.”
“Terribly. I always wished for a sibling but for some reason, they never got pregnant again.” River’s eyes were distant, remembering. “Has he talked about her much in his journal?”
“All the time.” Sunday studied him. “You never read them?”
River shook his head. “My eyesight is … problematic. The print is too small for me, hence asking you to transcribe them for me.” He stopped talking but Sunday realized there was more to his words than he was saying.
“River? You know, you can talk to me about anything. Anything. It won’t go any further. Is there something wrong? I mean … with your eyes.”
River looked at her with those startling green eyes of his and nodded. “I’m losing my colors. Something called cone-dystrophy.”
Sunday was appalled. “Oh, River, I am sorry.”
He nodded. “Yup. It’s been a few months since I found out. Luke’s been trying to track down any treatment he can, but yeah, eventually, the world will fade to black and white for me.”
Sunday didn’t know what to say. He was an artist, for chrissakes. “Damn, River …”
“I know. Look, I’ve been wallowing in self-pity for long enou
gh. Now there’s a little person who needs me. Being with Berry and Lindsay made me realize that I’m still lucky. I could be losing my eyesight all together. I can still be an artist; I just have to adjust my expectations. My plan for life.”
Sunday squeezed his hand. “It happens.”
“What about you? Are you where you saw yourself five years ago?”
She felt her face burn. “No,” she said truthfully, “but it turned out for the best.” I’m alive … and then there’s you …
“So how did it change for you? Was it just because your fiancé died?”
Sunday wanted to tell him everything but she knew she couldn’t. Instead, she spoke around it. “That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, but things were going south anyways. There was someone …” She broke off. How the hell did she tell him this without giving herself away. “Let’s just say, there was someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer and it made my old life … complicated.”
“Asshole.”
“Big asshole.” Her throat closed. “I don’t want to talk about that, not tonight. Tonight should be about happy things.”
“Hey, hey.” Daisy interrupted, carrying a tray. “Here is your new favorite beverage, Signore Giotto …” She placed a huge drinking jar in front of him, a weirdly colored concoction that made Sunday snicker and River’s eyes widen.
“What the actual hell?”
Daisy winked at Sunday. “You ordered it. Now drink.”
River manfully picked up the drink and took a swig, the whipped cream on the top sticking to the tip of his nose. His grimace made Daisy and Sunday bust up laughing. “Oh dear God, now I know what Satan’s underwear tastes like.”
“How dare you?” Daisy was crying with laughter. “I’ll have you know that was my finest work. Hazelnut mint orange with just a hint of toothpaste. Oh, and coffee, of course.”
“Toothpaste?” River was laughing now and Sunday’s breath caught in her throat—God, this man was gorgeous. Sexy, fun, tormented … he was everything, and that smile …
She watched him and Daisy tease each other. God, I could fall for you so easily … Sunday felt a pang of sadness, a feeling that by being with River, she was betraying Cory’s memory.
No. Shut that down. After everything, you deserve happiness. She felt someone watching her and glanced over to see Aria watching her, an unreadable expression on her face. Sunday excused herself and went to the bathroom, waiting a beat. Sure enough, a moment later, Aria came into the bathroom. She didn’t seem surprised to find Sunday waiting for her.
Aria leaned against the sinks next to Sunday and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Sunday waited. Aria sighed. “I guess you and River are together now.”
“It’s very early. Very early. And I don’t want to make an enemy of you, Aria. Of anyone.”
Aria nodded, chewing her bottom lip. “Me and River … I always kid myself that we were suited but the truth is, we weren’t. I’m sorry to say it but I think he’s too damaged to really know love.” She looked at Sunday, her expression soft. “And I’m not saying that to hurt you.”
“I’d rather you were honest,” Sunday said. “I can make up my own mind, but as I say, it’s very early. River and I … we don’t know each other that well yet.”
Aria nodded. “You don’t have to listen to me. I won’t be offended. Just know. It’ll be like walking on an icy lake with him.”
She left the bathroom, and Sunday felt a wave of confusion. Was she just being a bitch? The answer came back to her. No. She knew Aria was right. River was damaged; it didn’t take a genius to work that out.
She went back out to see River drinking on his own, Daisy having gone back to work. A simple black coffee was in front of him now and Sunday smiled. “Are you scarred for life?”
“I might be.”
As she sat down, he reached over and took her hand. “So … now we’re on an official date.”
“Looks like.” She smiled at him, trying to read the expression in his eyes. “River, listen, this doesn’t have to be anything heavy. Let’s just enjoy each other.”
He reached out to stroke her cheek. “I want to know you.”
“And you will. We just don’t have to do it all in one night.”
He nodded, and they chatted easily and lightly until after ten. Outside, he took her in his arms. “Come back to the house. Stay the night.”
She shook her head. “It’s not time for that. Think of Berry.”
She couldn’t be persuaded and instead they went back to her apartment.
River gazed at her then bent his head to kiss her. His mouth was soft against hers at first, then as the intensity grew between them, his lips crushed against hers. Breath mingling, they stripped each other, desperate to be skin on skin. They never made it to her bed, instead tumbling to the rug. Sunday rolled him onto his back and straddled him, stroking his cock until it was rock-hard and quivering against her belly. She slowly impaled herself onto it as River groaned, his hands caressing her breasts, sliding down her waist. Sunday tightened her thighs on his hips as she moved on top of him, taking him deeper with each movement.
God, this man was intoxicating, his intense green eyes never leaving hers, his strong hands holding her as if she was the most precious thing in the world.
He would be far too easy to fall in love with, and that was a problem. A big problem.
They made love tenderly, then with increasing animal desire, until they were clawing at each other, River flipping her onto her back and thrusting harder and harder until she was screaming his name and coming, her vision exploding with a million stars as she climaxed.
Afterward, breathless, they held each other until River looked at his watch, regret in his eyes. “I have to get back for Berry.”
“I know.” She kissed him and they got dressed. Again, he drew her into his arms.
“Just tell me that we’ll move forward. That you’ll stay over eventually.”
“I will, I promise. I just think Berry will need a period of adjustment. She may seem fine, but if she thinks I’m trying to replace her mom … I hate to think she’d be upset about us. We just have to be patient.”
River smiled ruefully. “I was never very good at being patient.”
Sunday chuckled. “Time to practice. We have all the time in the world.”
Chapter Nine
But the next day, when Sunday drove up to the Castle, she felt the change in mood immediately. Walking into the kitchen, she saw Carmen alone, her face grim. “What’s going on?”
“Angelina Marshall. She’s suing River for custody of Berry.”
“What the fuck?” Sunday was immediately angry. “How does she even know Berry exists?”
Carmen sighed and indicated Sunday should sit. “Apparently she knew even before River did. From what we can tell, she’s been stalking every girlfriend that River had, even down to the one-night stands. That included Lindsay. River’s never talked to his girlfriends about what Angelina did and so, apparently, Lindsay thought nothing of it when Angelina contacted her.”
Carmen rubbed her face, looking tired. “She was playing the dutiful grandmother for years, without River’s knowledge. When she found out Lindsay died …”
“That bitch,” Sunday hissed, her heart breaking for River.
Carmen nodded. “Of course, she played the selfless grandmother figure to Berry, so the child doesn’t know that she’s an evil succubus. River is beside himself.”
“I should go find him.”
“Please,” Carmen patted her hand. “He’s been in such a funk this morning. I can’t reach him.”
Sunday made her way slowly to River’s studio—a room she had never been in—and hoped he wouldn’t think she was intruding. She knocked. “Come in.”
She slipped inside and was assailed by glorious color. Vast canvases with vibrant pinks, reds, green, golden yellows and deep, ocean blues. She gasped a little, taken aback by the beauty of them. “Oh, River …”
; He was sitting, gazing out of the window and when he looked at her, she saw the raw pain in his face. She went to him and wrapped her arms around him. He buried his face in her neck, his arms tight around her. They said nothing for the longest time, just held each other. Sunday felt tears in her eyes. She couldn’t comprehend what was going around River’s head. To potentially lose his daughter to his abuser? It was unfathomable.
Eventually River pulled away. “Thank you for coming,” he said in a low voice. “You seem to know instinctively that I needed you. That means a lot.”
She stroked his face. “Tell me everything.”
River squeezed his eyes shut. “Baby, as much as I want to … I can’t. What happened between Angelina and myself? It’s too much. It’s horrifying. All I want to do is keep Berry safe from that woman.”
“But you have to face what she did to you sometime, River. Deal with it. Until you do, she’ll always have this hold over you.”
River shook his head. “No.”
Sunday drew in a deep breath. “You know I’m with you, right? For whatever you need. But I’m not going to be an enabler. You need to deal with—”
“What would you know about it?” His outburst shocked her and she saw the depth of his agony. She touched his face.
“I can’t know, River. But I’ve been in situations where I felt helpless. I’m just saying … to be at your strongest, maybe it’s time.”
River looked away from her. “I can’t.” Barely a whisper.
“Jesus, River … what did she do to you?”
But he said nothing. Eventually Sunday gave up, and standing, she touched his shoulder. “I’ll leave you alone. Just know I’m here for whatever you need.”
As she reached the door of his study, she heard him call her name. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Sunday.”
“It’s okay. I’ll see you later.”
At suppertime, she joined Carmen and Berry in the kitchen. To her relief, Berry seemed unaffected by the somber mood of the house, climbing onto Sunday’s lap and talking excitedly about her ‘Nanna’ coming to see her.
The Hottest Daddy Page 6