by Ashley Munoz
Dammit, it was about time I introduced the kids to Ryan, the man they’d been riding around with for the past hour.
“Baby Bell, can you turn and look at me real quick?” I asked, stepping up to rub her back. She still wouldn’t leave Ryan’s chest. “Bella.”
Nothing.
Ryan smiled, stifling a laugh.
“Well, all I wanted to say was that Ryan is my good friend from college. He’s here visiting the area from…” I looked up, not sure what to say. I had no idea where he lived.
“Portland,” Ryan finished for me.
“Our dad lives there!” Cole replied excitedly.
The tic in Ryan’s jaw was almost impossible to catch, but it was the same tic he’d gotten when one of my old boyfriends would talk to me in college, or when someone would hit on me.
“Anyway, I know everything was rushed before with the bike accident, but I wanted you to know who he is.”
“Is he your pwince?” Bella finally detached from Ryan.
“Uh…Bella, were you crying?” I asked, hoping to the sweet Lord above that I was successful in changing the subject.
“I think the photographers scared her,” Ryan suggested while rubbing her back in soothing strokes.
My heart felt like it was melting like a popsicle at the end of August.
“Speaking of which, um…do you need to go? We understand if you do, but we should probably call Shay, or an Uber to get us home.”
“I can take you,” Ryan said, holding on to my daughter more firmly than before, “but maybe we could use a back exit or something.”
Hospital security had cleared the hallway for us and walked us to the parking lot. Ryan had asked if I had any sunglasses for Cole or myself, to hide our identities. It caught me off guard…I didn’t have anything for Cole that would fit his face, so Ryan gave him his ball cap. It was too big, but it worked to hide his face. Bella’s face was still shoved into his shoulder, and I had a pair of oversized sunglasses I wore.
There was a big group of people, much like at the sports center that first day. They were all shouting questions about filming, asking for photos and asking where Henna was.
The Henna questions made my gut sink. In fact, the entire situation made me feel like we were imposters, little kids playing dress-up. I might have had a claim on Ryan Prince at one point, but he belonged to the world now, and to women like Henna.
I was in a sour mood on the way home. I hated that I was allowing the reality of his life to affect me so much, but my stupid shore-living heart started piecing together the image of the four of us in that little exam room and wove this picture…one that looked a lot like a future.
It was stupid.
Ryan was just visiting, and there I was already latching onto the idea of him staying and wanting to settle down with a single mom of two. Not likely.
We pulled into my empty driveway; as soon as Ryan put the car in park, I started moving.
“Thank you so much for the ride.” I forced a smile.
“It’s no problem. Let me help.” He got out before I could turn him down. Great, now he was going to see my disastrous house.
I went to help Cole, but Ryan had already grabbed him and started heading toward the porch. I went for my five-year-old, who was asleep.
With each of us carrying a child, we made our way up the steps. Opening the door, I stepped in and moved toward the couch to lay Bella down.
“You don’t lock your doors?” Ryan asked as he shut the front door, closing the four of us in yet another room that my mind would turn into a family photo.
“Only if I’m leaving for work, but this is a nice town—the crime rate is really low,” I volleyed back, pulling a throw over Bella’s legs. It may have been summer, but it had cooled down quite a bit.
Ryan’s eyebrows pinched together as he set Cole down on the opposite end of the couch, then he was standing looking around the room.
“Can I get you some water, or coffee?” I asked, moving toward the kitchen. Cole was already flipping through channels, finding something to watch. He’d been given pain medication that made him a bit quieter than normal.
“I’ll take some water.” Ryan’s smooth voice sounded behind me. I hadn’t expected him to follow me into the kitchen, but there he was: ass planted against the counter, eyes on me.
Handing him the water, I tried to keep my eyes anywhere but on him, certainly not on how much space he took up in my kitchen, or how his legs crossed at the ankle, making him look so good I nearly groaned.
“So, you still want to catch up, right?” I asked, feeling faux bravery steeling my nerves. We needed to just get it over with…the sooner we talked, the sooner he could move on.
Keeping his eyes glued to mine, he merely nodded.
His lack of words and intense stare made me feel flustered in all the wrong places.
“Dinner.” He stepped closer. “Tomorrow night.” His hands caged me in against the counter. My heart beat loudly in my ears, the pulse jumping in my neck as I tilted my head to see him. His presence was a tidal wave on that shore I’d been stuck on for the last decade.
“I’ll have to find a sitter…” I exhaled, proud that I had kept my head tipped, meeting his stare.
His finger ran along the counter, near my hand…the closeness of his body, of his skin was maddening.
“Let me know. I’ll be here to pick you up at six.”
A million and one seconds passed between us as our eyes locked, refusing to dip to one another’s lips.
Finally pulling back, Ryan stepped away and headed toward the front door.
I tried to catch my runaway heart by placing a hand over it and breathing through my nose, but it wasn’t my heart I needed to worry about. It was my damn libido that was out of control when it came to this man.
11
I stretched the dark lines along the pad of paper, trying to feel the familiar release that came when I sketched. I’d been going at it for an hour and still I wasn’t feeling the anxiety over my impending dinner ease out of my system.
“Still doing that, huh?” A deep voice asked from above, pulling me from my thoughts. It wasn’t even eight in the morning yet, which was why I was still in my sleep shorts and tank with no bra, and why my hair looked like a rat currently lived in it.
Disappointment met me in a set of steel blue eyes.
“Not that much has changed in two years, Logan.” I huffed, getting to my knees, grabbing all the sketches, and pulling them into a pile.
Logan’s hands were there, helping me, the backs of his fingers pushing a piece into my chest, grazing my breast.
I froze, and so did he…but instead of a flush of shame or embarrassment coming over him, it was a look of lust that filled those blue eyes.
I shoved away instantly and stood, desperately in need of a robe or sweatshirt.
“What are you doing here?” I moved inside, toward the front door, knowing he was on my heels.
“I came to check on Cole…since you never texted me back.” He leaned forward on his toes while I moved toward the living room. I turned in time to see his hands disappear into his front pockets. Logan always wore loose jeans, band t-shirts, and Converse tennis shoes; he was always relaxed, comfortable in his own skin. He had two tattoos that wound around his forearms like snakes, making the veins in his forearms pop. His easy smile threw me off balance, especially when he lifted his shoulders as if he were flirting with me.
What was going on with him?
“He’s sleeping,” I explained, but Logan knew this. He knew the kids slept in until about nine in the summer.
“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could eat breakfast together…have some coffee.” His sandy brown hair was disheveled; his black t-shirt was too.
Had he slept in the car?
“Um, I don’t kn…” I started, but I was cut off by the sound of someone knocking gently on the front door.
I drew my eyebrows in as I padded toward my entryway. Logan seemed to
mirror my facial expression as he asked, “Expecting company?”
I didn’t get a chance to tell him no before I was pulling the door open. Ryan stood there holding a russet paper bag and a cardboard coffee holder with two coffees and what looked like two hot cocoas.
“Morning, Bex.” That sexy grin was in place as he smiled at me, and damn, I could feel my own smile grow, matching it. I was too busy staring at Ryan to realize Logan had stepped up behind me.
“Who is it?” my ex asked, pulling the door open wider, breaking the strange electricity between Ryan and me.
I could feel Logan tensing behind me, his chest brushing my back, and fuck, why was he standing so close to me? My eyes wouldn’t leave Ryan’s face, though he was focused on the person standing behind me. He had that familiar jump in his jaw, making my heart flutter.
I couldn’t exactly introduce the two, because Logan was already well-acquainted with who Ryan Prince was…and he wasn’t a fan.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Logan pulled on my shoulder, trying to move me to the side; I planted my feet, not giving him any room.
“Sorry, do we know each other?” Ryan asked, his eyes narrowing and those dark brows drawing in tight. I noticed his aqua gaze flit down to the hand Logan moved from my shoulder to my waist.
“Bex, what is he doing here?” Logan asked again, but I wasn’t paying attention to him.
“Aren’t we doing dinner tonight?” I inquired, addressing the man in front of me who was sporting tousled wheat hair under a dark ball cap. He’d come early to have coffee with me, to see me. My college-aged self was doing cartwheels and backflips.
“Didn’t want to wait…and I wanted to check on Cole.”
“What do you mean check on Cole?” Logan boomed from behind me, then he stepped to the side, turning toward me. “How does he know about Cole, and why are you going to dinner? I thought he wasn’t in your life anymore. I thought…”
Logan clenched his fists, his face blotchy red, his chestnut hair falling over his brow. Logan was handsome, always had been, but any romantic feelings I’d had toward him had evaporated when he broke us beyond repair.
“Logan, this isn’t your business. Please butt out, go get some coffee, check on your kids—I’m sure your yelling woke them.” I turned, holding my hands out toward the hall.
“Logan?” Ryan asked.
My eyes went to his jaw, exhilarated at the sight of that muscle jumping. It was like watching a seismometer move back and forth, warning of an impending earthquake
“Yeah, this is Logan, the kids’ dad. He drove down this morning to check on Cole,” I explained, realizing belatedly that it probably looked like he’d spent the night.
Ten years of heartache flashed through Ryan’s eyes; it was there and gone again in a second, but I caught it. His body language was telling a story of vengeance and reclaiming what was his, but his eyes dipped to the ground, choosing a different path.
“I should go,” Ryan muttered softly, and before I could challenge him on why that wasn’t necessary, he turned around and ran down the steps.
It was fine. I didn’t care that it felt like my heart had lodged itself in my throat or how hurt slammed so hard into my chest I nearly fell back.
I didn’t need people in my life who didn’t want to be there, or who didn’t understand that shared custody was a complicated mess, something that required grace and a whole lot of patience.
“Logan, what the hell?” I slammed the door shut and stormed toward the kitchen.
The second my feet landed in front of my ex, he mauled me.
His lips crashed against mine, and his hands went to my hips, lifting me onto the counter.
It was a rush, a frantic panic of harsh strokes and frenzied fingers.
After a swipe of his tongue against mine, I pushed at his chest.
“What the actual fuck, Logan?” I growled, my mouth tingling from feeling his rough lips on mine. He caged me in so I couldn’t get down without pushing at him, but when I pushed, he wouldn’t budge.
“Bex…” He leaned his head against my chest, letting out a heavy sigh.
“Logan, let me down. Now,” I demanded harshly.
His blue eyes lifted to mine, and he only hesitated for a second before he realized this wasn’t going to go how he’d hoped.
Jumping down from the counter, I crossed the kitchen, ensuring the island was between us. Logan watched me carefully as he crossed one leg over the other, leaning against the counter.
“I’m sorry, Bex. It’s just…I’ve been having these feelings stir back up for you over the last few months, and last night, I was lying awake in bed thinking about how Cole could have seriously been hurt, and I wasn’t here.”
I stared, bereft of words for a moment at the audacity of this man. “Was Dana in bed with you while you were pondering this conundrum?”
Logan’s wince was proof enough. Asshole.
“Are you still with Dana, Logan? Did you just cheat on your girlfriend for absolutely no reason? Because there’s no hope here for you and me. We aren’t ever getting back together,” I explained, shaking with fury…and maybe shock? How could he be such an asshole?
“Why are you so quick to dismiss us? You know, even when you wouldn’t marry me, I thought if I just gave you some time, it would get better. But you were already mentally breaking us up the first second you thought I might not stay,” Logan yelled, pointing at his chest, a red, glassy sheen taking over his gaze.
“Don’t pin this on me. We were dating, I got pregnant…I was good to you, faithful to you, and yes, Logan, I loved you. I still love you, but—”
“You’re not in love with me? You never were. I was the idiot, staying here, hoping one day you’d fall for me like I fell for you.” Tears welled in his eyes, forcing my own to surface.
I hated this. I hated hurting him; it had never been my intention, but I couldn’t fake my feelings. I’d wondered a thousand times if this was how my father had felt, if he just hadn’t been able to engage in any kind of relationship with me because it wasn’t there. The irony that I was doing the same thing to the father of my own kids was like a hot knife slicing against my skin. I didn’t want to do it. I did love Logan, but everyone deserves to be loved entirely, not halfway.
“Logan, we’ve been through this. It’s why we broke up…why you started things with Dana…why are you doing this?” My voice cracked. So many of our fights had revolved around this issue; our anger and hurt was still all tied up in this pain.
“Because I saw this.” He tossed his phone across the counter.
Picking it up, I saw a Photogram post of Ryan and Bella in the waiting room of the hospital. She was looking up, giggling at something he said, while he looked down, smiling at her. There were already three hundred thousand likes, and probably just as many comments.
I scrolled through a few just out of curiosity.
OMG—is he dating her momma?
Is this a secret baby?
My ovaries just exploded, plz tell me this little girl is his.
I die. How cute is she?
“That’s why I’m here—that look on your face.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I can’t lose you to him…I can’t lose them to him.” Logan’s chest deflated with each word.
“Logan.” I stepped closer, hating the insecurity that laced his voice. “You’re their dad. They love you. No one will ever replace you. And…you never lost me to him.” I couldn’t say the rest—it would be too harsh—but he knew. I knew he knew.
“I never had you to lose in the first place, did I?” He lifted his shoulder, slashing a hand over his eyes.
“Logan, don’t do this,” I whispered, hating the cracking sensation in my chest.
“I’m sorry I kissed you. I shouldn’t have done that…please tell Cole I came to see him.” Logan ran a hand through his hair with breathy finality.
I nodded, staring at my toes, waiting for the door to click shut. The second it did, I fel
l apart.
12
“We’re so excited that you’re staying.” My mother patted my back while setting the orange juice down on the table. “Although I wish you’d just leave that resort and come stay here now that Hannah is gone.”
I laughed, taking a bite of bacon. “Her name is Henna.”
“Right…sorry, that’s what I meant.” My mom shrugged her shoulders with feigned innocence.
“It’s paid for through the end of the month, so I’ll stay for a bit longer, enjoy the perks of the resort, and come visit you while I have the chance.” I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.
I had shown up at their door that morning, after leaving Bexley’s house. My stomach was in a knot, and suddenly I just needed to be around the two people who mattered most to me in the world.
“What else have you been up to?” My mother’s water-blue eyes narrowed on me as she sipped her coffee.
“You heard about Bexley?” I knew she had, considering she lived for celebrity gossip. Someone had posted a picture of Bella and me while we were at the hospital. Honestly, my only feelings when my publicist sent it to me were of being totally undone in a way I had never experienced before.
That little girl was so precious, and if I was already attached after spending one day with her, I was a total goner for anything else.
“So, she does have kids then?” my mother asked rhetorically, looking out the window. The sun bounced off her graying white hair and her freckled face. My mother was beautiful in a way that made art fanatics go insane. She had this earthy goodness about her, and I had a feeling it had to do with her grandpa being Cherokee.
She’d never known her grandfather, not enough for anything of value to be passed down to me or to hold herself, but she was proud of her heritage and showed it by driving the hour out to the local reservation and pumping as much money as she could into their little economy. She’d even started volunteering at one of the elementary schools there.
“Son, I love you very much. While it broke my heart to see you hurt like you did…I can slightly understand where Bexley may have been coming from.” She spoke softly, like she was talking to a wounded animal. Against my better instincts and because I didn’t want to prove that I was still wounded, I stood, shaking my head.