Unlikely

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Unlikely Page 18

by Fox, Sylvie


  Katherine looked suitably chagrinned. “Of course. She’s been a bit of a free spirit much of her life. But we’ll be very happy if she settles down with someone like you.”

  Judge Reid interjected. “Marriage and children would be good for her. Then she could give up that crazy job—maybe she could go back and finish college when the kids are in school…”

  Selena joined her parents then, diffusing the difficult moment. “Mom, Dad, did Ryan tell you how they met? It’s a doozy of a story,” she prompted. Judge Harry raised a curious eyebrow.

  Ryan told the story of how they rescued Sasha on the freeway without embellishment. He didn’t want to play up anything that would have her parents thinking he was some kind of crazy stalker. They were, after all, the parents of the woman he wanted to marry.

  Katherine turned on her heel to look directly at her husband. “Don’t you think now would be the time to tell Sophia the truth about Daisy?”

  Selena looked from her mother to her father. “Is that the dog you guys got rid of after it peed on the Aubusson rug?”

  The Reids didn’t immediately acknowledge Selena’s question. Ryan’s mind flew back to the first time he’d kissed her after she’d cried in his car. Her gray eyes red from crying. She’d grieved for the dog for years and having Sasha had gone a long way to heal those old hurts.

  “What truth?” he asked. “What do you need to tell her?”

  Judge Reid crossed his arms across his middle, but remained silent.

  Selena looked from her father to mother. “What in the heck is going on here?”

  Katherine answered after a long silence. “We didn’t get rid of the dog. Daisy had to be put to sleep because she was suffering from acute kidney failure. Somehow she’d gotten out into the garage and drank a half bottle of anti-freeze. When we called the vet, he told us we’d probably have to put her to sleep.”

  Selie gasped in surprise. “Why did you blame it on the dog?”

  “Your father had come home to handle it. He knew how sensitive Sophie was and didn’t want to upset her about the dog’s death. So we made up that story.” She looked at Ryan and Selie’s stricken faces. “Don’t be angry. She thought the dog went on to a better place, a better family—not the common grave of euthanized dogs.”

  Ryan was heartened by the fact that Sophie’s parents weren’t the evil people she’d made them out to be. But he knew they’d made a big mistake. “I know it’s not my place to say anything. But your daughter thinks you dumped her dog without good reason.”

  Katherine looked at her husband, her blue eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I never realized… That was the start of her rebellious period, I think.”

  Judge Reid crossed his arms tighter and let out a loud harrumph. “That girl was going to be her own person no matter what, Katy. She was never going to fit into your mold like you wanted, like Selie. It would have been easier if you’d just accepted her as she was.”

  “Are you blaming this all on me? Who wanted to send her to private school starting in preschool? Who wanted her to go to Flintridge Prep, join the club, and play golf and tennis? None of that was me, Harry. Your children had to do all the right things. Maybe we haven’t done the right thing by her.” Katherine paused, looking first at Selena, then at Ryan. “I think we should talk to our daughter—starting with the dog. It’s time she knew the truth.” Harry looked at his wife, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. Katherine held out her hands and Harry loosened his grip on himself and put his hands in hers. Their communication was silent, but Ryan knew they were coming to some kind of decision.

  “Okay, I’ll talk to her,” Judge Reid said.

  “No, Harry. We’ll talk to her.”

  “I’ll call her. I promise. Maybe she can come to the courthouse and I’ll take her out to lunch like I used to in the old days.”

  Katherine’s blue eyes steeled, and Ryan saw the strength Sophie’s mother had to have to live with a personality as big as her husband’s. “No, Harry. We’re going to talk to her now. This whole thing between us and her has gone on far too long.”

  Harry glanced around helplessly. “We’re in the middle of a party.”

  Selie spoke up. “Dad, these people have all known each other forever. They’ll be fine for a few minutes. If anything comes up, Rob and I will handle it,” she promised. When her parents didn’t move, Selie looked from one to the other. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You’ve been quiet.” The drive home had been silent. It was like the luxury car came with a mute button. Sophie sat at the counter of her bungalow, perched on a barstool, still fully dressed.

  “I don’t have much to say, Ryan.” She drew in a deep breath, releasing it on a sigh. “You’ve turned my life upside down in just a few months. First I broke my number one rule by dating an attorney, then I learn that my parents lied to me all those years ago.”

  “They wanted to protect you.”

  “Why are you defending them?” Her voice rose as her anger grew. “Would you lie to your children like that? Heap loads of guilt on them?” She bit off an unladylike curse. “White lies about Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy I can understand. This…this was unforgivable.”

  “I agree that their actions weren’t wise, but they had a good reason. They’re your parents and they love you, Sophie.”

  His reasonable tone aggravated her. “Are you on their side now? My dad must have loved you and your East Coast pedigree.”

  Though he winced, his reasonable tone continued. “What your dad thinks of me doesn’t matter. It’s what you think that’s important.”

  She pointed to herself uncertainly. “Why me, Ryan?”

  “Because I love you, Sophie Constance Reid—no matter how you look or what you do. I want to marry you someday. Mostly I want you to give us a chance—even if I am a ‘suit.’”

  “I don’t know what you want to hear,” she said, though she did know—like she knew her own name.

  “This can’t continue to be a one-sided relationship, Sophie.”

  “You’re not being fair,” she whispered. “It’s not one-sided in bed.”

  “We’re great together in bed.” His voice grew rough with desire. “I love pleasuring you—having you pleasure me. Coming inside you is like the Fourth of July and Christmas all wrapped together. You turn me on like no other woman ever has. But that’s not all of it. I can't go a few hours without thinking of you—how your day is going at work, how the dog is doing, whether your hair is blue or green or pink. I don’t want to live without you.”

  “Live with me? Love me?” She blew out an exasperated breath. “You don’t trust me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Men really did have a one-track mind.

  “The strike, Ryan. Or was it just another day at the office for you?”

  “I’m willing to overlook your lapse in judgment when it comes to unions.”

  “Excuse me?” Her face heated up then. She was done with Mr. Reasonable. “I did not have a lapse in judgment—except for being with you. You’re acting just like my father. You are not right just because you say so. Damn it, this is why I don’t date lawyers. All that moral superiority BS. All unions are not corrupt, like all corporations are not perfect.” Sophie turned her back on him. She would not let his good looks persuade her to do something she shouldn’t do.

  He laid his hands lightly on her shoulders, but she shrugged them off angrily. “There’s nothing else to talk about, Ryan. It was great while it lasted, but we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

  “You’re just going to throw away what we have?”

  “We have great sex. That’s all. There can be no relationship if you don’t trust my judgment.”

  “Can I ask you something?” he asked, his tone anguished.

  She shrugged.

  “Do you love me? If this is all one-sided, please tell me now.”

  She wanted to lie—desperately. She wanted to
close the door on hard decisions and real feelings. But the new Sophie—the person she’d recently discovered she wanted to be—wouldn’t let that happen.

  “It’s not one-sided.” It was all she could force past her lips.

  His sigh of relief was audible.

  “But why do we have to label this, Ryan? I like things the way they are.”

  “That won’t work for me anymore.” His tone brooked no argument.

  “So where are we?” she asked, finally gathering the courage to turn and face him. The wisdom of age had taught her that love wasn’t enough in a difficult world.

  “Come to Thanksgiving at my mother’s house.”

  “How does that fix this, us? Whatever we are…were to each other?”

  “One more chance? We deserve that.”

  Sophie shook her head. “I can’t do this. I already promised Holly I’d be at her house. She’s going through a hard time right now. I need to be there.”

  “Give me—give us—the next two weeks. No talking, no pressure. I think we both need time to think. Let’s plan to make some decisions on Thanksgiving. We’ll talk after dinner.”

  She nodded.

  “We’ll do both, then. Okay?”

  Every moment they weren’t working, Sophie and Ryan spent together. Every kiss said how right for each other they were. He coaxed her to keep her eyes open when she wanted to close them. Love shined in his eyes every time he entered her. It poured into her with every thrust. His persuasion was embedded in every glance, every caress, every orgasm they reached together.

  Two and a half weeks later, Sophie dipped into the conservative side of her closet. She glanced in the bathroom mirror, hoping her clothes were appropriate for their Thanksgiving Day stops. She put on a simple A-line khaki skirt and a green cashmere twin set. They were going to Holly’s place first, and her friends cared little about what she wore. She was dressing for Ryan’s mother. She was about to slip some of her earrings out when she stopped. Scratch that. She refastened the highest loop around her lobe.

  What in the heck was she doing? She hated that she was changing into the person she’d tried to escape for years. She was not going to change for anyone but herself. Determinedly she pulled off her country club clothes, kicking them to the side of the room with unnecessary violence. She was going to be herself. If anyone had a problem with that, then it was too damn bad. She’d done the right thing for her sister and her parents, but enough was enough. She wanted people to like her for who she was, end of discussion. She was done trying to be something she was not. From here on in, she’d dress how she felt and if that was natural hair, or blue hair, then so be it.

  She reached in her closet and pulled out her black skin tight distressed jeans and a jet black form fitting sweater vest. She buckled a couple of skinny rhinestone belts around her middle, trying to create a waist on her tomboy figure. In deference to the cooler fall weather, she slipped on a cropped leather jacket that ended just below her breasts, and she was ready to go. In place of her usual sturdy work clogs, she slipped on three-inch platform shoes.

  The quiet purr of the luxury car greeted Sophie as she left her house, locking the door behind her. She ignored Ryan’s appreciative wolf whistle and she slid into the dark interior of the automobile.

  “I don’t want to be late to Holly’s,” she said impatiently.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said, and drove the short distance to Holly’s boyfriend’s house in the hills.

  Ryan ate a lot and Sophie ate very little. If she was worried about what her best friend would think about her showing up with Ryan, her worries were put to rest. Dominic’s ill-timed announcement of Holly’s pregnancy stole the show. Ryan holding her hand and cuddling up to her didn’t even register on the radar.

  A shot of nerves hit the pit of Sophie’s belly as they turned from Reseda Boulevard onto Kittridge Street. She took a deep breath, not sure she should be apprehensive at all. She liked Ryan’s mother Bridget, and it wasn’t like she was out to impress her—that much. Looking down at her hands, she saw they were shaking with a fine tremor. The jitters were a manifestation of her fear that Ryan’s mom and brother would read too much into the situation. It was something she’d have to get a handle on later that night. The stakes were too high—she didn’t want to begin to think about what would happen after this meal.

  “Have you been here before?” Ryan asked.

  “I don’t know anyone who lives in this part of the Valley.”

  Ryan pulled a face that held judgment.

  “I’m done apologizing, Ryan. I am who I am. I’m not a bad person because I haven’t spent every waking moment scouring the working class neighborhoods of Los Angeles.” She fumed. Silently, she regretted her characterization of his neighborhood. Maybe she was being a little judgmental herself. But she wasn’t going to say she was sorry. He was making everything about this dinner and this relationship harder than it needed to be. The worry that somehow she’d upstage his family firmly planted in her mind.

  He sighed. “I didn’t mean it to come off that way. Were you going to say something before I—”

  “Can you cool it with the handholding? Holly thought we were surgically attached back there. I don’t want your mother to get the wrong impression of our relationship.” He’d taken to holding her hand whenever they were out. He’d barely released her at Holly’s house tonight. Not that she didn’t enjoy the firm warm pressure of his hand or the low hum of arousal that came along with it, but she didn’t want his mom to get the wrong idea. Parents had a way of getting their hopes up when young people acted too lovey dovey.

  They made a left turn onto a little street called Wynne Avenue and pulled up in front of a modest sand colored stucco house. He turned off the engine and turned to her. “And what impression is that?”

  “Ryan, I know how parents have a way of getting their hopes up, and I don’t want your mom to confuse our…” she mumbled the next part, “…sexual relationship for something more substantial.”

  He was quiet while he unhooked his seat belt, and got out, easing his long legs from the car. He opened her car door and grabbed the hand she automatically extended. Damn manners did her in every time. They stopped in front of a low cedar fence and immaculate lawn. “I want something more substantial.”

  She saw the curtains twitch to the side, then fall back just as quickly. “Look, your mom knows we’re here. Let’s just go in and do this thing. We’ll talk about the rest later.” She pulled her hand from his once and for all, making sure her hostess gift occupied both hands.

  The faded wooden door opened before they had a chance to knock. Ryan bent down and kissed the snowy white head of his mother. Sophie handed over the small bouquet she’d picked up earlier at the market.

  “These are lovely flowers, Sophie. I’m so glad that you all could come. I know that you were busy with your other obligations, but I like to have my family around for the holidays.”

  They all bustled into the small living room.

  Bridget’s blue eyes twinkled as she got a vase for the flowers. “I think it’s traditional for couples to alternate family holidays, so that everyone gets a little time with them.” Sophie cast a knowing look at Ryan. He pulled his shoulders into a small “what-are-you-gonna-do” shrug.

  Cameron, still in uniform, minus his Sam Browne belt, looked quite comfortable ensconced on the couch, watching a football game.

  “Here,” his mother said, motioning with her hand. “Let me take your jacket—though I can’t imagine this little thing keeps you warm.” She hung the small jacket on a too large hanger in the hall closet.

  “Mrs. Becker—”

  “I told you to call me Bridget.”

  She wasn’t quite that comfortable with his mother even after their cozy gabfest at brunch weeks ago. “Is there anything I can help you with? Dinner smells delicious.” God, she sounded like a female Eddie Haskell. She needed to tone it down—a lot.

  “No, no, dear. I have everything
warming. Cameron will help me with the table. Ryan, why don’t you show Sophie your room?”

  Sophie felt like a teenager visiting her boyfriend’s house for the first time. Walking into Ryan’s childhood bedroom did nothing to assuage that feeling. As she wandered around the room, it was like peering into Ryan’s past. The room had boy-blue walls and an old-fashioned, wooden twin bed. Posters of late nineties bands, whose hairstyles made her cringe with memories, covered the aging wallpaper. When she walked by the bed to peer at the photos on his nightstand, Ryan grabbed her hand and pulled her down on it with him.

  On her back, looking into his earnest, handsome face looming above her, Sophie sighed inwardly. In her high school fantasies, she couldn’t have imagined anything as sexy as this. Had she been able to see the future, she would have waited patiently for Ryan to come to her. She loved this man, plain and simple. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, have babies with him, grow old with him. The realization felt like a smack in the head. Thank God he spoke or she might have said something she would come to regret.

  “I love your hair when it’s natural like this,” he said, fingering the golden red strands.

  “Ryan, about the strike…shouldn’t we—”

  “Shh, let’s not talk about that right now.” He angled his corduroy leg between hers. “Just one kiss.”

  His lips met hers and it was like striking a match near tinder. She was aflame with arousal and need within seconds. From her prone position, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. His right hand unerringly zeroed in on her breast. He brushed his thumb across her nipple—already beaded with desire. Despite the layers of clothing between his hand and her body, a wave of desire had her closing her legs around his in a vice-like grip.

  She heard a throat clear by the open door. “Dinner’s ready, dears,” she heard Bridget chirp. The door closed softly.

  Sophie threw her arm across her face. “I can’t believe you started this at your mom’s house. I’m going to die of mortification out there.”

 

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