Piece by Piece

by Kaylee Ryan

  “Cons, leaving you and Ronnie. Pros, just about everything else. Including more time with Owen. At least, I think that’s a plus.” It’s a good thing if we work out. If not, I’m starting over again in a new city with no one.

  “What do you mean, you think?”

  “He wants more, and before you ask, he claims he wants to date me. That I’m the ‘magic’ he’s been missing in his life. Crazy, right?” I ask her. When she doesn’t answer, I finally turn to face her. “Linda?”

  “Not so crazy.” She smiles. “Look, Layla, life is full of hard decisions. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve had to make more of them than most at your age. However, you can’t let fear hold you back.”

  “I barely know him. He said I could live with him, but if I didn’t want to that his future sister-in-law has an apartment that she hasn’t let go yet. It’s all too easy,” I say, exasperated.

  “Layla, sweetheart, not everything about life is hard. There are just as many good moments. Most of the time more than the bad. You were dealt a bad hand in life, and my heart breaks for you that you don’t see the good. You deserve the good.”

  “I don’t want to leave you and Ronnie.”

  “You know where we live. You’re welcome in our home anytime.”

  “The two of you are all that I have,” I say, my voice cracking.

  “You have me.”

  My head pops up to see Owen standing before me. He’s in worn jeans and a T-shirt, and those blue eyes of his are dark and intense as they stare at me. “Hi,” I say, wiping the lone tear that cascades down my cheek.

  In a few long strides, he’s around the counter and has my face cradled in the palm of his hands. “You have me. You have my crazy family, and we’ll come back as much as you want to visit. Ronnie and Linda can come and visit and stay with us, or me, or whatever. I promise you, you will not be alone. I won’t ever let you be alone again.” The look in his eyes tells me he means every word he’s saying.

  “Oh my,” Linda says breathily, and I can’t help but chuckle.

  “There she is.” Owen smiles down at me. “No more tears, baby. Only smiles for you from here on out.”

  “There are going to be tears, Owen,” I say, taking a step back, putting some space between us.

  “I don’t like to see you cry.”

  “That’s a part of life. Tears. Pain.”

  He nods. “You’re right. I’ll just have to hold you through them.”

  “If you don’t go with him, I will,” Linda says, not bothering to lower her voice.

  “Linda! What about Ronnie?”

  “Phew,” she says, smiling and fanning her face with a menu. I burst out in laughter, which is exactly what she was going for.

  “My life is in pieces, Owen. I’m a mess, and barely holding it together.”

  “Let me put you back together. Piece by piece, I won’t stop until you feel whole.”

  I don’t tell him that when I’m with him, I feel whole. I feel alive. My breath hitches when I realize that Linda is right. It’s my fear, but I didn’t let fear stop me before, and now I have Linda and Ronnie to come back to. Never again will I be alone. Reaching for the cordless phone that’s lying behind the counter, I dial the number he gave me for Sawyer. I memorized it, because well, I just did.

  “Hello.”

  “Sawyer, hi, this is Layla.” Owen’s eyes widen.

  “Layla! Hi, it’s so good to hear from you. What’s up? You keeping Owen in line?”

  “Is that even possible?” I ask, making her laugh.

  “He is a Riggins, but I’ll let you in on a secret, they’re just a bunch of big softies. Sexy, infuriating softies.” She laughs.

  My eyes find Owen’s. “I’m going to need some pointers.”

  “You got it. So, what’s up?”

  “I was wondering if the job was still open, and Owen mentioned you had an apartment for rent?”

  “Yes, and yes. Both are yours if you want them.”

  “I do.” The words are past my lips, and I can’t take them back. Not that I want to. I want this adventure he’s giving me. I’ll have a job, and my own place, and maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get more of Owen too. It’s risky to take this leap, and I’m scared to death. However, I’m the only one who can change my future. I’m the only one who can reach for the stars as I try and hang the moon.

  “Thank God. I wasn’t ready to deal with a sad, brooding Owen. I had enough of that with Royce.”

  “Sounds like a story.” I don’t comment on the sad and brooding Owen part. I’m sure she’s exaggerating.

  “Yes, one I’ll fill you in on once we meet in person. I’ll get the ball rolling on my end. You coming home with Owen?”

  “Yes.” I’m going home with Owen. Those five words elicit fear and happiness and hope for what’s yet to come.

  “Awesome. I can’t wait to meet you. We’re on our way to balancing all the testosterone in the family.” She laughs.

  I can’t help but laugh at her dramatics. Surely Owen and his brothers aren’t that bad. “Thank you, Sawyer.”

  “You’re welcome. See you soon.” I end the call and place the phone back behind the counter.

  “Layla?” His voice is thick.

  “You ready to put those muscles to use? I have some packing to do.”

  He engulfs me in a hug, lifting me from my feet. His lips mold with mine, and his reaction alone tells me I made the right decision.

  I’m not going to let my fear keep me from fighting for what I want. I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet. I do know I want a better home in a safe neighborhood. I’d like a job that pays more so I’m not living less than a paycheck to paycheck, and I’d like to find a man to spend my time with. Maybe even fall in love. I don’t know if Owen is that man, but there is a desire in me that can’t wait to find out.

  Chapter 11

  Owen

  Hitting the city limit sign for home, I glance over in the passenger seat, and Layla is still sleeping peacefully. Somehow, we managed to pack her stuff and fit it all into my rental. Even more astonishing is that I was able to convince her to leave her car behind. Ronnie is going to sell it for her and send her the money. I told her I have three vehicles, and that she’s welcome to one of them. I assumed she would fight me on it, but I think that she realized her car is still on its last leg, even with the recent repairs.

  It’s all gone smooth sailing since the moment she called Sawyer. The further we drive from Florida, the easier my breathing became. She’s here, in my hometown, and we’re doing this. We get to explore this thing between us even further, and Layla, well, she gets to better herself. I want that for her, as much as I want her for me.

  Instead of taking her to Sawyer’s apartment, I drive to my place. I want her there. I can’t explain it, but there’s a need for her to be in my space, in my home. I don’t take women to my house unless their last name is Riggins, or if it’s going to be Riggins. Layla’s different, and one day, I can only hope I’m that lucky bastard who gets to change her last name.

  Once I’ve pulled into the driveway, I turn off the engine and unbuckle my seat belt, turning to face her. Her head is tilted toward me, her eyes closed, and just looking at her makes my heart race. I can’t believe she’s here.

  Reaching out, I move her hair that’s fallen into her eyes. “Lay,” I whisper. She doesn’t move, so I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. When I pull back, her eyes are open, watching me. “There she is.” I smile.

  “Are we there yet?” she asks, sitting up straighter in her seat.

  “Yeah. We’re home.” I don’t miss the way my heart seems to stall in my chest at the thought of this being our home.

  “Come on, and I’ll show you around.” Climbing out of the rental, I meet her at the passenger door and offer her my hand. She takes it with ease, and I guide us to the front porch. Punching in the code to unlock the door, I push it open and usher us inside.

  “Wow.” She turns to
face me. “You live here? On your own?”

  I nod. “I fell in love with it. I added the outdoor kitchen and the pool, but everything else is how it was when I bought it.”

  “Why do you need such a big house just for you?”

  I shrug. “It’s close to my parents and my brothers, and I hoped that one day I might have a family, and we’d need all the space.”

  “You bought this place on the chance that you would need it?” she asks, her eyes wide.

  “I have four brothers, and if they ever need a place to stay, I have space. I’m the second oldest, so our younger brothers would come home from college and stay with me instead of our parents.”

  “What about your older brother? Royce, right?”

  I nod. “He was married at the time to the woman who wasn’t nice or right for him.”

  This time it’s her turn to nod. “So, you were their place to stay by default.”

  “Not exactly, we’re all really close. We’re stair-stepped in age, two years apart between each of us. We were a rowdy bunch growing up,” I say fondly, thinking about all the fun me and my brothers had. Still do.

  “I don’t know how your parents did it. Five boys.” She’s smiling as she shakes her head.

  “There was never a dull moment in the Riggins’ house. Hell, we’re all grown men living on our own, and there still isn’t.”

  “Tell me more about them,” she asks.

  “Let’s go on a tour of the house, and then we can talk all you want. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

  “I’m not staying here, though, right? I’m staying at Sawyer’s place?”

  “That’s your choice, Layla. I’d love nothing more than for you to be here with me all the time, but I understand if you’re not ready for that.”

  “And you are? Ready for that, I mean?”

  “Yeah, baby.” I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her into my chest. “I’m ready for that.”

  “We barely know each other.”

  “So you keep reminding me,” I tease. “Come on.” I lead her out of the foyer into the living room. From there, we tour the entire first level before moving upstairs. “There are four more bedrooms up here.”

  “Five bedrooms,” she croaks, shaking her head. “Your kitchen is the size of my apartment back in Florida. This house…” She turns to face me. “…is incredible, Owen. So beautiful. You should be proud of where you are.”

  “I am now that you’re here.” Again, I snake my arm around her waist and pull her into my chest. She fits there.

  “These are all extra bedrooms. You’re welcome to stay in any of them or stay in my room with me. The choice is yours.” Before she can form a reply, I keep going. “You hungry?” I ask.

  “No,” she says over a yawn.

  Without a word, I turn us, and we head back downstairs. I lead us to my bedroom, knowing that the front door is locked, and kick off my shoes. “I’m exhausted,” I say, turning on the bedside lamp.

  “I told you I would drive,” she says over another yawn.

  “I know, but I was good. Now, I’m tired.” I strip down to my boxer briefs and climb into bed. “You coming?” I slide over to the middle of the bed and hold the covers up for her. “We’re just sleeping, Lay. I promise. Now come here. It’s late, and I know you’re still tired, you can’t stop yawning.”

  I can see the indecision warring in her eyes. “Owen, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

  “Why not? You’ve slept next to me before.”

  “That’s why. I can’t let myself get used to the safety and comfort of sleeping next to you.”

  I sit up, letting the blanket pool at my waist. “I want you to get comfortable, and I always want you to feel safe. You are safe with me, Layla.”

  She’s already shaking her head before I’m finished. “I’m not.” She taps her hand over her heart. “Right here,” she whispers. “I’m not safe right here.”

  Just like that, another piece of my heart breaks off and finds its way floating toward her. “Come here, baby.” I pat the bed next to me. I’m prepared to argue my case, but she surprises me when she kicks off her shoes and asks for a shirt to sleep in. “In that dresser.” I point behind her. “Top drawer. The bathroom’s through that door.” I point, showing her.

  “I’ll be right back.” I watch every move as she retrieves a T-shirt and disappears behind the bathroom door. I decide to send my brothers and my parents a message, letting them know I made it home in our group text.

  Me: Just got in.

  Royce: Layla?

  Me: She’s with me.

  Mom: Can’t wait to meet her.

  Dad: Welcome home, son.

  Marshall: When you bringing my girl over, bro?

  Grant: Owen’s in Looovee.

  Conrad: Owen and Layla sitting in a tree…

  Mom: Leave your brother alone.

  Me: Good night.

  I power off my phone, knowing that my idiot brothers can keep their teasing going all night long. Normally it would annoy me because, before Layla, there was no one I would bring home to them or consider letting stay in my home. Things have changed. Layla has changed me.

  The bathroom door opens, and I can’t help but stare as she makes her way toward the bed. “You want me to turn this off?” She points to the lamp.

  “Do you need it? To feel safe?” I add.

  “No,” she says, shaking her head at the same time.

  “Turn it off.” She reaches for the lamp, and the room goes dark. “Layla.” My voice is husky even to my own ears. “Come to bed, baby.”

  I feel the bed dip as she climbs in beside me. I reach for her in the darkness and pull her to my side, my front aligned with her back. My hand rests on her bare thigh, and my thumb traces her silky-smooth skin. With each pass of my thumb, I feel her body relax into me.

  “Owen?” Her voice is soft as it fills the quiet room.

  “Yeah?” I ask, my voice rough.

  “Goodnight.”

  “Night,” I reply, sliding my hand to her belly and holding her close. It doesn’t take long for my body to relax and for sleep to claim me.

  * * *

  I’m standing at the stove frying bacon when I feel her. “Hungry?” I ask.

  “How did you know I was standing here?” she asks, her voice moving closer.

  “I could feel you.”

  “Feel me?”

  Pulling the bacon out of the pan, I place it on a plate lined with a paper towel, a trick I learned from watching my mom cook for us growing up. Turning off the burner and sliding the skillet to the back, I turn and wrap my arms around her. “Yes, I could feel you. I don’t know how, but I knew the moment you walked into the room.”

  “Is this more of that magic you were talking about?” She smiles up at me.

  “This is you, Lay, all you, baby,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  “How did you know I love bacon?”

  “Room service. That’s the first thing you went for. Bacon, and toast and jelly.” I nod to the island where I have several slices of toast sitting on a plate.

  “Be careful, Riggins. You keep spoiling me like this I might never leave,” she teases.

  Two things cross my mind. First, I love that she’s teasing and happy. I love the fact that she’s opening up and being herself around me. Second, I plan to spoil the hell out of her, and if that helps my case to get her to stay with me, so be it. Hands on her hips, I lift her up onto the counter. “Strawberry or grape?” I ask.

  “What?” She cocks her head to the side, a smile playing on her lips.

  “Strawberry or grape jelly?”

  “Both.” She grins.

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” she says, swiping a piece of bacon off the plate as I set it on the counter next to her. “So, what are we doing today? I assume we need to drop my things off at the apartment so we can take the rental back?”

  “I thought we’d just put your
things in the garage here, and then I’ll have you follow me in my car to turn the rental in. If we get there before noon, they won’t charge me for another day.” I’m not worried about the charge. The money isn’t the issue. I’m not ready for her to leave, and I’m hoping with time she’ll just stay with me and forget about Sawyer’s apartment.

  “Can’t we just drop my stuff off on the way?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have a key. It’s not much, so it will be fine,” I assure her as I hand her a cup of coffee. I busy myself cutting a piece of toast in half slathering one side with strawberry jelly and the other with grape. “My queen,” I say, holding the jelly-covered toast to her lips. She giggles and takes a huge bite. I add grape to another piece and step between her thighs where she’s still sitting on the counter. Together, we eat breakfast in the most unconventional method, but it’s ours. I couldn’t think of a better way to start this day or our time together.

  Chapter 12

  Layla

  I’m living in a fairy tale. I know that at any moment, I’m going to wake up and be in my shitty apartment in Florida. This can’t be real—this new life that literally just developed over a matter of weeks, all from meeting a handsome stranger.

  “Layla.” Owen’s deep timbre pulls me out of my thoughts. “Where did you go?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

  “Pinch me,” I say, holding out my arm.

  “What?” he asks incredulously.

  It’s not like I told him to kick a puppy. “Pinch me so I’ll wake up. I have to be dreaming.”

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “You just told me that you want me to drive that.” I point to the shiny car that costs more than I’ll probably ever earn in a lifetime.

  “Yes, that’s my car. I assumed you didn’t want to drive my truck or my SUV since you are used to driving a car.”

  “Why does one man have three vehicles?” Three! Who needs three vehicles?