“What do you mean facing?” My voice waivered.
“Your dad’s on what Municipality calls ‘Level 3’ probation. Did you know that?”
I shook my head.
“My friend in management told me your father is very close to being terminated. Do you understand now?”
“So I guess it’s like any probation, if he does anything wrong he’s gone?”
“That’s part of it, but do you know what another ‘wrong’ includes?” he continued to push.
“Drinking.”
“Yes, if he comes to work drunk that would mean termination, but so much more. The slightest bit of alcohol on his breath or clothes, one glass of wine, one beer, or one sip from someone’s bottle . . . if he's tested, it’s over.”
“Over” he said. Stanford, my dreams, my career might be “over.” Getting out of my house in January might be “over.”
My heart slammed and fear rose in my throat.
“It means if the wrong person was in the wrong mood that day, he’d be fired. It means coming into work late or taking too long at lunch—even five minutes too long—he’d be fired. If he’s not available when they call him, basically—"
“They’ve got my father by the balls,” I interrupted.
Chapter 26
Sammy’s
“Nicky, you know after thirty years on the job, your family would lose a lot of money.”
“He’d lose his salary, I understand.”
“Your dad would lose his retirement and your family’s medical coverage. With no income, your parents would probably use the money they’ve set aside for you to go to college and probably sell the house. For you, it would mean . . .”
“No Stanford.”
“Right." He dropped his gaze. "You may be able to get a student loan, but that means a lot of debt, and they might rethink your acceptance since that wasn’t the terms of your admission.”
“Can’t you help him now?” I put my hand on his arm.
Ryan looked at me, hesitated, started to speak, and then looked down at the sand.
I see you Ryan Tilton. Now I know something more about your soft spot.
“Ryan, can’t you please help my dad?”
“Yes, I have a way of trying to help him through my contact, but first I’m asking you to give me a chance.” His eyes softened as if pleading with me. "Open up to me. I need your attention."
“For sex?” I was sure it was what he wanted.
“I want to kiss your heart.” He put his hand on my chest. “I want inside there and show you that it’s possible to have college and a relationship at the same time.”
“And if I don’t want a relationship? What if I only want friendship and nothing more?” I took his hand off my chest and held it with both of mine. "Will you abandon my family knowing what it would do to me, your friend?”
I could see by the way I phrased my question I’d hit a nerve. He looked away. When he looked into my eyes again, his stare was fixed and serious.
“I wouldn’t abandon you. But if we’re just casual friends . . . I know a lot of people and they’re my friends just like you. So why should I help you and not them?”
“You’re playing with me.” I put my head down.
Ryan put his big arm around my shoulder, and his hand lifted my chin so I’d look at him.
“Nicky, I told you last year, last month, and now tonight, I’m not playing.”
I don’t trust you.
We walked away from the water and sat down on a large log that the wind and sand had made smooth; time had worn down its rough edges.
“Why did you have to tell me about all this? I was better off not knowing anything if you won’t lift a finger. The whole thing is just . . .” I trailed off and started crying. “It’s unfair. I hardly asked for anything from my parents. I stayed out of trouble, made my own breakfast and lunches, took care of what I needed for school . . . everything, Ryan. All my life, I asked only to be able to go to Stanford. Even then, I handled the application for admissions, set up my meetings with guidance counselors so I’d know what to do. I volunteered at charities and got all my letters of recommendation. They never had to worry and they didn't.”
“You’re right, it’s not fair.” He held me in his arms. “But you needed to know.”
“And by the way,” I looked up at him as my teardrops fell to the sand. “I think we’re more than casual friends. And if I told you I don’t want anything more, you should still help my dad because that’s what friends do.”
"Okay." His seductive, masculine voice called to me.
I knew he was ready to speak without even looking at him. I was already in tune with something . . . some bond pulled me, held me and I had to find out more.
“I’m only asking you to go on a few dates. Won't you consider this possibility? Think of us as friends going out together. You say we are, right? So if we don’t fit together, I promise I’ll still help your dad. It's just . . . I want so much more with you than you’ll give yourself permission to experience right now . . . Please give me a chance. You see yourself being safe with Jerry, don’t you? So why are you afraid to date me?”
“I’m not afraid of you, but being with you, yes, I am,” I admitted.
A sneaker wave came up on shore and we raced off the log.
"That was close!" I laughed, my mood suddenly shifting.
"What would we have done if you were soaked to the bone?"
"Don't know." I reached over and squeeze his hand.
"It would be such a perfect opportunity to come back to my place and talk more, wouldn't it?" His thumb traced my wrist.
"True."
"Yeah, you could take your clothes off and put on a robe while they dried." His eyes were heavy-lidded.
I looked away.
“If I asked you out, just came to your house some evening or called you, and said, ‘Ms. Young, would you like to go to dinner with me,’ what would you say?”
"I don't know."
He put his hand on my cheek and turned me so I’d look at him. “How did that feel when I asked you hypothetically?"
"Good."
"No fears?"
"No."
"You’re letting Jerry in a little, so what’s different with me? Is it because you have control over him?"
"No. I don't think it's that." Maybe.
"I’ve come to you with my heart in my hand. You know I want your friendship, because we're already friends, so it’s more than sex. You can’t even commit to Jerry, and I can see you like him. He's come right out and asked you to be his girlfriend. Without having some influence over something you care about, how could I ever hope you’d give me the slightest glance? Do you understand the battle I'm facing internally? I help your family and you run from me. I don't help them . . . maybe I have a chance.”
"Or you do and I still give us a chance," I raised my chin.
“The things I can do for your friends and family are all good things, but it’s up to you to decide whether or not you want me to do them. I’m only asking you to give me a try. Won't you give me a chance? It wouldn't hurt, would it?”
I looked up at him.
His blue eyes twinkled.
“You feel me in your heart, don’t you?” His hand caressed my head. "Haven't I understood what you're feeling?"
“You're not wrong, but I can’t—"
“I know I’m not what you had in mind right now, but our lives move and change. People transition all the time. Old plans are put to rest and a new door opens. Have some faith in your intuition. Aren’t you beginning to see we might have something? Didn't you feel me differently in the outfield last year when I kissed your hand? Come on. Let's explore each other. Won't you find out more about the man in front of you?”
“Yes.” I have to admit it.
"Yes to what?" he kissed my cheek.
"Everything."
A sea lion barked at us, bobbing its head up and down as it swam in the wave line.
“When I come back," he hugged me tightly. "We can go somewhere to relax and talk about everything you discover from speaking with some people I know regarding your family. Then, maybe, you’ll understand more of who I am. The answer to your original question?”
“Oh damn, Ryan, I forgot what it was, we’ve talked so long. Did you see that seal?”
“He's telling you to let go with me," he laughed.
"You think so? I need to go and talk with him," I kidded back. "Anyway, sorry to interrupt."
"Yes, I want to have sex with you.” He chuckled slightly. “But so much more. If sex was the only thing I wanted, I’d come right out and ask. What I want . . . I’ve wanted for so long.”
He took my hands in his and brought them to his heart.
God, I’m sitting here trying to pay attention, but I feel . . . like I'm dreaming. If he could only see my invisible mouth—it’s open and drooling.
Suddenly a wave of emotion rushed over me. It wasn’t only the sadness of my father’s troubles, but strangely, it was . . . tears of tremendous relief. It was as if a revelation of how my life could be different blew through me. Whether it was with Ryan, or someone else, I somehow knew I'd have what I wanted if I could be brave enough to ask for it. I saw how this experience could be the way to open my heart joyously, even if we didn’t work. If we agreed to have sex and move on, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Could I be bold enough to take a risk and reach for this new life and a new way to be?
Once more, his big, beautiful arms pulled my head to his chest. I stayed there willingly, enjoying the way he felt, listening to his heart beat, the echo of his breath, content to lie against him . . . forever? Ah, here I am on his big, volcanic chest. It feels so good.
“Ryan?”
“Yes?”
“Your chest.” I patted it a few times and as I relaxed, I realized how cold I was. I wished I hadn’t taken off his jacket. “Can I have your jacket again?”
“Sure.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll take you home now.”
I stood to the side, waiting for him to unlock and open the car door. He stepped forward and pressed his big body against me.
Oh, holy God.
“I can’t wait for the time when I take you home with me,” he flirted. “You must know how unusual you are. I admire your strength and . . . pretty much everything about you.”
“Thanks, but I’m not really that strong,” I murmured.
An invisible wave of warmth flooded me. I was certain he’d be careful with anything I told him. For years, I’d been aching to reveal my fears to someone who'd understand and not judge me. I thought I might have found it with Tara and Alex.
Could he be the one to help me find a way out of my shadows?
“In fact, I’m sick of being strong." My body tightened and I stood straight.
“I know.” He kissed my forehead again and that was the moment I felt Ryan’s heart. His simple kiss told me he was interested in all the things about me. He honored my feelings, and revealed his gentle and vulnerable side.
We got into his car.
I put on his jacket.
“Ryan?”
“Yes, Nicky?”
“Can we go somewhere for coffee to talk for a little bit? Like you said, you have a long road trip, and I don’t want to wait ten days before I see you again. You probably have plans, but could you call and let her know you’ll be a little late?”
His chest seemed to fill up.
“I don’t have any plans. I said it last year and I'll say it again. If I had plans, I’d cancel them for you.” He smiled tenderly. “I know just the place where we can go.”
“Where?”
“The harbor in Half Moon Bay,” he said. “A place called Sammy’s.”
We drove a little farther down the coast, and he parked on the pier in front of a diner and bar with a nice view of the bay.
Nearly a year after our first visit to Yountville, I’d finally get to have another long and wonderful conversation with a friend, a boy, and a man I knew named Ryan Tilton.
Chapter 27
Oysters + Coffee =?
“Are you sure you want to talk?" Ryan asked. "Won’t you be late for your boyfriend?”
“You're not funny. Today was just—”
“I know what today was.” He reached into the back seat of his car, unzipped his gym bag, and pulled out a pair of sweat pants. "Here; put these on.”
I slipped on the pants.
He got out and opened the door for me.
“I just need to say, you know, I’m in your jacket and pants, and I’ve been crying . . . I don’t look, well, I've said it before, but, you’re usually with such polished women. I mean, if you’re too embarrassed to be with me, I can run in and get coffee and we can talk in your car.”
I took his hand and got out.
His arms banded my waist.
I found myself against his body.
It seemed there was no air left for me to breathe.
My breasts squeezed against his chest.
“You look anything but terrible,” he grinned mischievously. “I could devour you in one swallow.”
“What?” My laugh was obviously filled with nervous fluctuations as he so smoothly brought me into his playground. He lifted my spirit and it was as if he'd guided me into an essence I knew I'd never forget. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you look good enough to eat." His hand traveled up my back. "You’re just—deliciously succulent.”
“That’s uh, I don’t know what to say."
“I know.” He laughed the low, gruff, all-male laugh I loved. “I want you to discover, I want you to . . .”
Oh my belly—the constant aching when I’m around this man. What the hell is this?
“You want what?” I asked, not understanding what he meant.
“I want everything with you.” I felt his hand move, even with his jacket between us.
“What about you?” I tried to change his direction.
“What about me?” he asked.
“You have no jacket now.”
He wore jeans, tennis shoes, a black knit shirt with long sleeves and a cross necklace. Wisps of golden brown hair curled against its V-neck and his radiant chest peaked through. I was sure I heard it calling to my Evil Twin. As he pulled me close and put his arms around me, the pleasure surging through my body was paralyzing. His head rested on my shoulder and his light beard flirted with my cheek.
“Feeling your sweet body against me . . .” he inhaled deeply. “It sends a kind of heat crawling all the way down my legs. I’m on fire for you, Nicky.”
I’ve already burned down.
After kissing my ear, his lips traveled across my cheek. I watched him while he closed his eyes and kissed my lips.
I wanted to keep my eyes open so I could see everything, but soon enough, I closed them as I lost myself in the moistness of his mouth and the way it moved.
His head tilted and his lips slid from side to side on mine.
My nipples tightened. I was painfully aware of them.
I felt as if our hips were rising and falling together in the ecstasy of some future moment now circling as a possibility.
Ryan's fingertips, pulsing with his heartbeat, slowly crawled underneath his jacket—the jacket now on my body. His hands snaked around my back and flattened, resting gently on my shoulders. I couldn't move—I didn't want to. My knees trembled. I wanted to soak in his sweetness, rinse him all through my hands, and then bathe in him again. When I felt him lift from my body, I reached out to keep him close.
No, no, no don’t let go yet!
“Ryan?”
“Yes, Nicky?”
“Can you wait just a minute?”
He knew I was weak. He waited patiently as I put my melted skin back on my body.
“Okay. Thanks.”
Without any additional comment, we walked into Sammy’s. Ryan held open the turquoise blue door for me. Its hinges were rusted and they sque
aked as it opened and closed. The floors were made from wide and well-worn wooden boards. The chairs around the tables had red cushions, while the ones at the booths were blue. A bar separated the diner from the kitchen.
Quickly, a dark-haired, robust, middle-aged woman with rosy cheeks and brown eyes waved us over to a corner out of public view, so Ryan wouldn’t be bothered.
“How’s it going, Ermina?” Ryan gave her a hug. “How’s Sam?” He nodded to the back as he sat down.
“Sammy’s fine, baby.” Her eyes were wide and friendly and I could see she and Ryan had a special connection. “He’s still as handsome and ornery as ever.”
"Thank God," he laughed.
Through the kitchen’s order window I saw a burly man with a gray beard and rounded face. From the way he plated food and directed the kitchen, I assumed he was not only the cook, but also the Sam that the restaurant was named for and Ermina’s husband.
“Who’s the lovely lady?” She gave us menus and then put her hand on Ryan’s shoulder.
“Nicky Young.” I stood so I could properly introduce myself.
“Nice to meet you, honey.” Instead of taking my hand, she gave me a big hug. “She’s a special one, isn’t she?” She winked at Ryan.
Look at his face; his smile is adorable. I want to grab his cheeks and play with him. Stay with me little boy, stay with me.
“She’s very special,” he answered.
“What’ll it be, sweetie?” She turned to me.
“Just coffee with cream, please,” I requested.
“What about you, baby?” She looked at Ryan.
“Coffee, water, and a plate of your wonderful oysters.” He put the little menu back into the pronged holder on the table. "Don't forget the hot sauce."
“You know what those do,” her eyes widened. “Behave yourself now.” Ermina wrote down the order and walked away.
“What does she mean?” I leaned forward and whispered, “What about oysters?”
“It’s nothing.” His laugh had a nice, slow, and sexy sound. “So why are we here, my dear, with such a fine ear, so near?”
Shadow Heart (Broken Bottle Series Book 1) Page 17