Ryan's Renovation (The McKade Brothers #3)

by Marin Thomas

  Trust—that funny, complicated, guilt-rendering five-letter word.

  “What’s wrong?” Blue eyes shimmered with anxiety. “Second thoughts?”

  How about third? Fourth? He rubbed his mouth across hers. “I can’t promise you anything except that this is where I want to be now. With you.”

  Cradling his face in her hands, Anna insisted, “And I want to be with you.”

  Her declaration confused more than comforted. If she cared deeply, why was she settling for this moment and not demanding the future? The coward in him yearned for her total commitment, her confession of love, without having to risk saying the words himself. Blocking out his subconscious, he focused on stripping her glorious body.

  Clothes flew across the room; Ryan’s shoes thudded against the rug. “Did you lock the door?” He peeled away her panties and tossed them over his shoulder.

  “Blair won’t barge in.”

  His aroused body beyond caring, Ryan shoved the beaded bed pillows to the floor, pulled back the red sateen comforter, then stretched out beside her. Anna’s hands boldly explored his body, until Ryan was wild for her. When her talented hands brought him to the brink, he demanded, “My wallet, Anna. Find my wallet.”

  “Not to worry.” She leaned over him, plastering her breasts to his chest, then made him squirm when her knee nudged his arousal. “I have a condom.” She extracted one from the drawer in the bedside table and held it up for inspection. “Pink.” With a sassy wink, she sheathed him. He gaped at the pink latex, praying his privates were color-blind.

  Then Anna’s mouth went to work and he wouldn’t have protested if she had tied a bow around him. When she lowered herself onto him, her smile touched Ryan’s heart and he shut his eyes against the surge of emotion. He was an idiot if he thought he could control his feelings for Anna. He more than cared for her. Damn it, he loved her!

  Angry with himself for permitting her to slip past his defenses, he rolled her beneath him, shoved his tongue inside her mouth and pounded into her, desperately trying to exorcise his desire, his need for her.

  If he was too rough, Anna didn’t complain, which increased Ryan’s desperation. Seconds from exploding, he came to his senses and slowed his pace.

  “No, don’t stop. Don’t stop,” Anna begged, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  He didn’t stop until he and Anna went off like a couple of Fourth of July fireworks.

  KNOCK.

  Ryan lifted one eyelid, his blurry vision cataloging his surroundings.

  Knock.

  His foggy brain connected the noise with the bedroom door.

  Knock.

  Instinct made him pull the sheet over his and Anna’s naked bodies.

  The door swung open and a grinning Blair entered with a tray of food. “Nourishment. Anna must eat to prevent another migraine.” He delivered the tray to the nightstand near Ryan. Twin spots of red colored the man’s cheeks when his gaze swept over Ryan’s naked chest.

  The last time Ryan had been caught naked with a female had been his senior year in college in the fraternity-house laundry room. “Thanks for the food.”

  “Make Anna eat before you go at it again.” Blair paused at the door. “Tell her I have a date with Thatcher. If things go as planned, I’ll be spending the night with him.”

  What the hell was Ryan supposed to say? “Ah, good luck, then.”

  “Thanks.” Blair left, and once Ryan heard the front door slam, he sucked in a deep breath.

  “He’s happy for us,” Anna murmured, her lips moving against Ryan’s chest.

  “He’s so happy he had to barge in here with a tray of food?” He cuddled her and kissed the top of her head.

  Anna giggled, and Ryan groaned at the sexy feel of her jiggling breasts against him. “He was checking to see if I was okay.” She propped herself up against the headboard and played with Ryan’s hair, twining the strands around her fingers. “You probably think our relationship is weird, but Blair’s like a brother to me.”

  Shifting to his side, Ryan asked, “What’s his story?”

  After a lengthy pause, she inquired, “Do you really care or are you just curious?”

  “I care about you, Anna” He stroked the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. “And Blair’s important to you, so yeah, I care about him, too.”

  “His parents live on Long Island. When he confessed he was gay, they disowned him. Threw his clothes and personal things onto the front lawn, changed the locks on the door and got an unlisted telephone number.”

  “That’s rough.” On occasion Ryan or one of his brothers had failed their grandfather, but the geezer had never withheld his love from them.

  “We met on a city bus. A drunk had been pestering me, and Blair stepped in and acted as my boyfriend so the jerk would go away. We ended up riding the same bus line and became friends. Then I mentioned I wished I could afford to rent one of the brownstone apartments on this street and he volunteered to be my roommate and share expenses. As here we are. Friends and roommates.”

  “He’s lucky to have you, Anna.” Ryan meant every word. He was relieved she had Blair to watch over her.

  “I’m lucky to have you.” Her kiss confirmed Ryan’s greatest fear—Anna was in love with him. No, she hadn’t said the words, but he suspected her love in the way she touched him, the way her lips played over his, the subtle looks she bequeathed him.

  All these years he’d assumed he’d been empty inside. But Anna had discovered something worthwhile in him and had burrowed her way into his heart. If he could find the courage to try again with a woman, there was no doubt in his mind, that woman would be Anna. He hauled her close, shaken by how deeply she affected him. She filled his heart with gladness and warmth. And hope. He had Anna to thank for bringing him back to life…making him understand that he could go on.

  His stomach grumbled, interrupting his self-psychoanalyzing.

  “I get first dibs on the glass of orange juice,” Anna declared.

  “Did Parnell call the office today?” He passed her the juice. “Mary phoned and said he was meeting with his Gamblers Anonymous coach.”

  “A gambling coach, huh?” Ryan plopped a red grape into her mouth.

  “Bobby got on the phone and told me to clean out his office. Keep the business contracts in my desk, but get rid of everything else.”

  She motioned for another grape. “It’s weird, but I got the impression that Bobby wasn’t coming back for a while.”

  “Maybe his coach thought he wasn’t ready.”

  “Possibly.” Anna smoothed her hand over Ryan’s chest and stomach, then poked her finger inside his belly button.

  “Stop, you little tease.” He held her finger prisoner.

  “Ryan?”

  “What?”

  “Will you tell me your real name?”

  The oxygen in his lungs froze.

  “And it wasn’t the Lexus, the apartment in Manhattan or the hotel room in Atlantic City that gave you away. I suspected you were using an alias when I filled out your employment forms the first day on the job.”

  Anna hadn’t survived the foster-care system without learning to read people. He wouldn’t insult her by lying. “It’s Ryan McKade.”

  “McKade. A strong-sounding Irish name.”

  Caught off guard by her easy acceptance of his having kept his identity a secret, he was speechless.

  “Tell me about your family,” she coaxed.

  “My family owns McKade Import-Export and I’m in charge of the New York office. I handle most of our European customers. My elder brother, Nelson, runs the Chicago branch and my younger brother, Aaron, handles the West Coast.”

  “Wow. Must be a big company if it takes three offices in three cities.” Anna was impressed but not shocked that Ryan was a business bigwig. “That explains who you are and what you do for a living, but not why you showed up on the rubbish company’s payroll.”

  Ryan smoothed the hair from her cheek. “Grandfather believ
ed he’d been remiss in teaching me and my brothers life lessons.”

  “The old man sounds intriguing.”

  “He’s a meddler. Anyway, the lesson I needed to learn was bravery.”

  “What?” Anna bolted upright and gaped. “That’s outrageous.”

  “I appreciate your indignation, but Grandfather accused me of being a coward.”

  “Ridiculous. Is he senile? He doesn’t remember that you saved a woman’s life during 9/11?”

  Ryan suspected that when Anna committed her heart to a man, she’d defend him to the death. “My grandfather meant well. He believed that I’d stopped living after 9/11. That my injuries, the divorce and the loss of my unborn child stole my will to live.”

  “You mean you contemplated suicide?”

  He’d never told his grandfather or his brothers, but he owed Anna the truth. And much more. “Once. I considered downing a bottle of prescription pain meds with whiskey.”

  Tears blurred Anna’s eyes. “What stopped you?”

  “I don’t remember.” But he was damn glad he had stopped after taking four of the pills, or he’d never have met Anna. Never have experienced the joy of being with her. The possibility of a brighter future.

  “Thank goodness you didn’t, Ryan.” She snuggled against his side and pressed her cheek to his heart. “I wonder why your grandfather picked Parnell Brothers for you to hire on with. Have you asked him?”

  “No, but maybe I should.” Now that Anna had brought up the subject, he acknowledged that his grandfather never did anything on a whim. He suspected the old man had a definite reason for arranging Ryan’s job at the station. “Grandfather believes forcing me to mingle with people will whisk me back to the world of the living.”

  “And has it?”

  “Yes.” Anna was proof it had.

  Blue eyes shining with emotion, she asked, “Now that you’ve learned your lesson, in what direction is your life heading next?”

  “I hope in yours, Anastazia Nowakowski.” He set her orange-juice glass on the table. “I love you.” He expected happiness, joy, elation…anything but her empty that gazed back at him.

  Dear God. He was the only one in love.

  HEART ACHING, Anna stood at the front window of her apartment, watching the night swallow Ryan’s shadow. Sobs clogged her throat and she was thankful her roommate had decided to spend the evening elsewhere. She didn’t want anyone disturbing her pity party.

  After Ryan’s declaration of love, he’d waited for her to confess her feelings. The anticipation in his eyes had faded to hurt when she’d remained silent. That he cared deeply for her was more than she could have wished for, more than she deserved. Lord, how she’d wanted to tell him she loved him. Instead, she’d kept the words inside, until they’d almost choked her. She had no right to declare her love when she doubted a happily-ever-after was in the picture for them. She’d been aware her silence had wounded him. Better he suffer now than later, after he learned she’d led him astray.

  Better for whom, Anna? You or Ryan?

  A man of strong principles, Ryan could forgive a lot of faults but not this one, she feared. She was certain that once he discovered she’d given up her daughter for adoption, he’d want nothing to do with her, and she refused to place him in a position of having to make up reasons for backing out of their relationship.

  Why did Ryan have to be the one man who made her happy? Had she committed an unforgivable sin in giving her daughter away? Was this God’s punishment—sentencing her to a lifetime of loneliness? Yes, she had friends and coworkers and Blair, but they would never replace the love of Ryan. Why did fate have to be so cruel as to bring Ryan into her life? Why did she have to experience the love and joy of such a wonderful man, merely to lose him forever? So many questions…

  Tell him the truth. The whole truth. He might understand.

  No. This was one time the truth would cause more pain, more sorrow. How could Ryan forgive her when she’d yet to forgive herself? Besides, it was too late for the truth. She should have brought up Tina in Atlantic City after he’d spilled his guts about his wife’s miscarriage.

  She attempted to console herself with the idea that even if Ryan managed to forgive her, they were from different worlds—different socioeconomic upbringings. She convinced herself that Ryan had readily assimilated with her blue-collar coworkers because he’d done it for his grandfather. Not because of any feelings he’d had for her. Even if their polar-opposite upbringings weren’t an issue, she’d never be comfortable living in a high-rise condo or an apartment in Manhattan. She needed neighbors. Friends. A close-knit community around her. She belonged in Queens. Queens was where she would stay.

  By herself.

  Without Ryan.

  Alone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Thank God.” Anna popped out of the chair the moment Ryan stepped into the front office. She braced one hand on the mound of paperwork in the In basket and the other on her flat tummy, waiting for a menstrual cramp to ease. Exercise helped lessen the cramping and she should have taken a walk for lunch, instead of using the time to solicit local businesses to consider Parnell Brothers’ services. But the company needed cash and quickly. Neither she nor Ryan would collect a paycheck for the week. The other men would receive half their pay.

  “You’re not…” Gaze glued to her stomach, Ryan crossed the room and stopped before her.

  Pregnant? A sliver of hurt wedged itself in Anna’s heart. After all he’d shared with her about his wife’s miscarriage, how did he dare think she’d be so cruel as to intentionally keep a pregnancy from him? “No!”

  He jumped at her firm pronouncement. Then his eyes connected with hers, and for an infinitesimal second she read regret in the brown orbs. She had regrets, too. A tiny part of her had hoped she’d become pregnant from the one time they’d made love without using protection. She would have welcomed the excuse to have to make their relationship work for the baby’s sake.

  “Your face is as white as Blair’s cake frosting,” he commented.

  Ever since they’d made love Monday night at her apartment, they’d tiptoed around each other as if one wrong word would spark their unspoken truce into flames. Although she cherished his declaration of love, she ached with regret at having hurt his pride and wounded his feelings. “A man in Bobby’s office. He’s been waiting to speak with you for over an hour.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “He didn’t say. But he mentioned a person named Little Nicky.” Anna clutched Ryan’s arm, not caring the action bordered on melodrama. “He looks mean.”

  Crap. Ryan had hoped he’d have more time to resolve the situation with the mafia. Obviously the mob boss was dead serious about possessing the business. “Don’t worry.” The promise rang empty in his ears. “After I see what the guy wants, we’ll grab a bite to eat.” Sick and tired of the tension between them, he intended to have a long talk with Anna. He knew she loved him. Why she refused to confess her feelings puzzled Ryan. Whatever the reason, he was determined to uncover the answer tonight. He’d come this far with her—his heart was in too deep to walk away without a fight.

  Then Ryan did what he’d been dying to do all week but hadn’t—he kissed her. A brush of lips. When her sigh caressed his face, he moved away, afraid that if he kissed her the way he yearned to, the way he’d dreamed of, he’d never stop. He squeezed Anna’s hand reassuringly, then went in search of Little Nicky’s henchman.

  Anna hadn’t been kidding—Ryan had seen pit bulls prettier than this guy’s mug. As if the bone and cartilage had been smashed or removed, the mobster’s nose lay flat against his face—two airholes above his lips barely visible. Pockmarks decorated his temples, cheeks and neck. Feet propped on the desk, he slouched in Bobby’s chair and flashed a yellow-toothed sneer.

  Deciding pleasantries weren’t necessary, Ryan groused, “What do you want?”

  “Boss sent me to remind you about the upcoming foreclosure.”

  Nov
ember 5. The date had been in the back of Ryan’s mind every minute of every hour. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “He expects everyone out by noon.”

  “Why the hurry?”

  Mr. Goon popped the knuckles on one hand. “Boss plans to open the business right away.”

  Suspecting the mob’s business had nothing to do with rubbish removal and a whole lot to do with loan-sharking, Ryan stated, “We need more time.”

  The size-thirteen boots disappeared from the top of the desk and banged against the floor. Ape-man stood, planted his beefy fists on the desk and growled, “You ain’t got more time.”

  “More time for what?”

  Both Ryan and the gorilla rotated their heads toward the softly voiced question. Anna stood in the doorway. “I’ll explain later,” Ryan warned.

  “Well, now.” Pancake Face moved out from behind the desk. “If the little missy needs a job real bad, the boss can put her to good use.”

  No matter how he might wish to defend Anna’s honor, Ryan was no match for Godzilla. He caught Anna’s eye and nodded to the door. The stubborn woman ignored him. Hands on her hips, chin in the air, she snapped at the bully, “What’s going on?”

  “We’re shutting you down.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Anna asked Ryan.

  “Parnell sold out to Little Nicky.”

  Her gaze moved between the two men. “Who’s Little Nicky?”

  “He’s Queens’ mob boss,” Ryan explained.

  “Mob boss?” She pressed a palm to her heart. “What does the mafia want with a small-time garbage company?”

  “Little Nicky don’t share his plans with nobody. If you want a job, I’ll put in a good word for—”

  “She’s not interested,” Ryan interrupted. “Tell your boss the message was received.” He slid an arm around Anna’s waist and guided her to the chair in front of the desk.

  “Noon.” The goon sauntered out the door.