Protected_A Second Chance Baby Daddy Romance

by Kelli Walker

  A trait of his training, no doubt.

  Crickets were chirping in the distance as the stars twinkled in the sky. Ryder plated the steaks he had cooked along with the vegetables he had sauteed in the pan. He held the plates in one hand and reached for sodas with the other, then made his way to the table. His eyes averted my gaze as he set everything down, sliding a soda in my direction as I fumbled to catch it.

  Then he gathered up some silverware for us to use before he sat down.

  At the other end of the table.

  A physical representation of the distance he was trying to put between us.

  I didn’t know why, but it hurt. Having him so close to me and then watching him willingly be so far away clenched my gut. It made me rethink everything I had agreed to up until this point. It made me wonder about every decision I had made with him. I felt a pull towards him when I first got here, and I knew he felt it, too. I could see it in his eyes and feel it in the way his skin electrified mine. It was effortless to cave to him. The fear I thought I would feel about intimacy with another man in my future was nonexistent with him. In front of that fire on that skin-tickling rug, I was sixteen again. In the arms of the boy I’d fallen in love with and not a care in the world to pay attention to.

  I’d missed that feeling.

  I still did as I watched him eat silently at the far end of the table.

  I wasn’t sure if it was wise to break the silence. The habits I had fallen into with my ex began to claw at my mind. Wait for him to initiate conversation. Wait for him to look at you. Don’t ask too many questions. Keep to yourself. Clean up after him. Make sure his drink doesn’t run out. Don’t go back for more food until he’s had a chance to go himself.

  “Alicia?”

  I wasn’t sure how long I had been staring, but Ryder’s voice ripped me from my trance.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “You haven't touched your food.”

  “Lost myself in my thoughts. Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I was going to ask if you didn’t like it. I have plenty I can make,” Ryder said.

  “No. No it’s… this is fine. Better than fine. It smells wonderful.”

  “Well, hopefully it tastes that way, too.”

  Underneath his prying gaze, I cut my first piece of steak. I put it between my lips and began to chew, counting the number of times with my mouth closed. One. Two. Three. Four. Silently. Quietly. Like a mouse.

  That was what Langley preferred.

  But the hunger in my body sparked the second that buttered steak trickled down my throat. I cut off a bigger piece and placed it between my teeth, chewing very few times before I swallowed. It was tender. Meaty. It filled my body with warmth and satiated the hunger I’d been feeling for hours. I jammed my fork into the vegetables and tasted their beautiful sweetness. Red peppers and sauteed carrots and sweet vidalia onion and crisp mushrooms. I grabbed my soda and washed it all down, no longer paying attention to the man across the table.

  A man whose face lit up as I cleared my plate.

  All of the questions I wanted to ask him fell to the back of my mind. The food was luxurious, and I was held to none of the standards I was used to being held to. I stood up from the table and strode to the pan, scooping more vegetables onto my plate and grabbing another soda.

  I was ravenous. But not with hunger.

  Freedom.

  This was what freedom truly felt like.

  I leaned back after clearing my plate again and stretched out. My eyes fell closed as a smile trickled across my cheeks. My stomach was fuller than I’d ever remembered it being and the caffeine from the soda was coursing through my veins. I reached for the last of my second can and brought it to my lips, my eyes rising to the man across the table.

  The man who was smiling and taking all of me in.

  “Good?” Ryder asked.

  “Very,” I said, giggling. “Those are some serious cooking skills you have.”

  “I picked them up eventually. Cup-O-Noodles and buttered bread got old after a few months.”

  “It’s been so long since someone’s cooked for me. Thank you,” I said.

  “How long?” he asked.

  Our eyes connected across the table and I found myself hesitant to answer. Yet another question about my past when there were so many unanswered about his. My vulnerability was returning. I felt exposed. Like a raw nerve. Curiosity was clawing at the forefront of my mind again, and I didn’t want to answer his question.

  I didn’t want to give him another reason to pity me. Because I didn’t want his pity or his sympathy or whatever empathy he thought he could provide.

  I didn’t even want his protection.

  What I wanted, however, was a distraction. A subject to talk about that didn’t revolve around Langley.

  “How long were you a SEAL?” I asked.

  I watched his body grow rigid as he sat back into his chair. His arms crossed over his chest, pushing his muscles forward and making them grow in size. Veins in his forearms began to protrude as his legs spread wider underneath the table. I could see him shifting. His eyes darting around the room. He was trying to come up with a way to avoid the conversation. A way to address it without really touching on it.

  I knew because I’d done it so many times with Becca when she questioned me about my marriage.

  “Four years,” Ryder said. “Enlisted for eight.”

  “My lawyer said he knew the man that owned the security company he called on my behalf. And that conversation up there sounded pretty friendly,” I said.

  “Is there a question in there?”

  “Do you know Mr. Hofstetter?” I asked.

  “I do.”

  “How?”

  “He was on my SEAL team.”

  “So you two served together,” I said.

  “We did.”

  “Did you enjoy it? I mean, your time in the military.”

  “I don’t think ‘enjoy’’s the right word.”

  “Then give me another word to go off of,” I said.

  I watched Ryder think as his eyes fell out the window. Staring off into the dark horizon as the night grew thick in his front yard.

  “Necessary,” he said. “That’s probably a better word.”

  “Do you keep in touch with any of the other guys on your team?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  I watched his jaw clench as my brows furrowed.

  “Brendan’s a good friend of mine. That’s why I called him,” he said. “That’s why I took this favor for him. He helped me when I needed him, so I’m returning the favor.”

  “When did he help you?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past.”

  “It matters to me.”

  “I don’t care if it matters to you.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “You used to care.”

  “This isn’t high school and I’m not your boyfriend.”

  His words stung more than they should and I could feel tears welling in my eyes. He was allowed to dig around in all my dark secrets but I couldn't know a couple of his? I scooted my chair away from the table and stood to my feet. I walked myself over to the doorway as Ryder’s chair scraped across the floor. My food was settling and it was making me tired, and suddenly I no longer wanted to be in Ryder’s presence.

  Sitting at a table with him acting like nothing had happened between the two of us.

  “Alicia-”

  “It’s late,” I said. “Thank you for dinner.”

  “Alicia, I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I said. “I’m sorry for prying.”

  “I know you feel put on display.”

  I stopped at the bottom of the staircase and turned my face towards him.

  “I know you feel like the darkest parts of you have been put on display. And even though you don’t think so, I know what that feels like. To have people digging around in a life you want
nothing else to do with.”

  “I highly doubt that,” I said.

  “And that’s fine if you do. You can feel however you want. You can move freely throughout this house whenever you want. But knowing my secrets isn’t going to make you feel any better about having yours poked around in.”

  “It’s interesting to me that you think you know that,” I said.

  “I learned from experience.”

  “So did I,” I said curtly. “But there’s something you’re not taking into consideration. A side to this that hasn’t even crossed your mind.”

  “Then enlighten me.”

  “You haven’t considered the fact that I’m not trying to level a playing field.”

  I started walking up the steps, my eyes trained on my feet so I wouldn’t trip.

  “I feel exposed, yes. I hate that you know more about me than I know about you, sure. But those aren’t the only two things in play. I also think you’re worth getting to know. Worth understanding.”

  I stopped at the top of the steps and looked down onto his shadowy figure standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

  “I still think you’re worth it, Ryder. Worth my time and worth my energy. After all these years, I still think you’re a magnificent human being. The problem is, you still think you’re not.”

  When nothing but silence met my ears, I walked the rest of the way to my room. I slid my robe off my body and settled down in bed, pulling the cool, soft sheets over my body. Ryder was just as closed off as he was back in high school, but I didn’t have the energy to dig into him like I did back then. I wasn’t a sixteen-year old girl infatuated with the boy in the leather jacket. I was a thirty-four year old woman whose entire life had stalemated. Whose dreams had been chiseled away at by the poor excuse of a man she married. A woman who still had yet to regain the strength she was once filled with during a time in her life when she felt she was impenetrable.

  That life seemed so far away.

  My sleep was restless and my mind was clouded. I was supposed to feel safe with Ryder across the hallway from me, but instead I felt more alone than ever before. I rose out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom as the sun slowly began to rise. I splashed some water in my face and went to go reach for my face wash before I was reminded of where I was.

  I sighed and went out to my bag, but I was quickly met with my first mistake.

  I packed clothes, but no toiletries.

  I wiped my face off and dressed myself, then pulled a cardigan around my body. I went downstairs and helped myself to the kitchen, filling the crevices of the mansion with the scent of coffee. I could hear Ryder’s thundering footsteps as they came down the stairs, so I began searching the cabinets for mugs.

  “By the fridge on the left,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Did something happen?”

  “I forgot my toiletries,” I said.

  I turned to face Ryder with two empty mugs in my hands.

  “I can take you to the store to go get some.”

  “I don’t have any money. That’s also still at my apartment,” I said.

  “Then I’ll pay for them and you can pay me back.”

  “Or we can go to my apartment and I can get the rest of the things I need.”

  “It’s not safe for us to go back there. It’s still an active crime scene.”

  “I’m sure your guys are done picking up the tattered remains of my life,” I said. “I’m not having you pay for things I need when we can go back to my apartment and get them.”

  “It’s not a big deal. What all do you need?”

  “Everything,” I said. “Along with the money I still have stored away.”

  “You have money stored away?”

  “That’s none of your concern. I need to go back to my apartment.”

  “Not happening.”

  “I’m not saying you can’t come. I’m saying I need a ride.”

  “And I’m telling you it’s too dangerous.”

  “That the professional in you talking or the possessiveness of the man I fucked talking?” I asked.

  His eyes held mine as he ripped a coffee mug from my hand.

  “I can call the guys and talk them through what you need. They can gather it and bring it down to us.”

  “I’m not a helpless woman, contrary to what my past says. I can get it myself.”

  “And contrary to what you think, literally no one has labeled you helpless,” Ryder said.

  “It’s what you all think. It’s what you must think. How else would I be perceived?”

  “As a strong woman who learned how to survive until she saw a window of opportunity to leave,” he said.

  I watched as he took my coffee mug from my hands and poured me a cup.

  “I could’ve gotten that,” I said.

  “Tough. There is it.”

  He thrust it back out to me, his eyes dancing between mine as I took it from his grasp. I doctored the bitterness of it up before I leaned against the counter, allowing his words to penetrate my mind.

  He saw me as a survivor?

  I always saw myself as weak-minded.

  “Calling the guys is the best I can do,” Ryder said. “As a professional, going back up to that apartment isn’t safe. Hell, going back to that area of town isn’t safe. If Langley spots us and decides to follow us, who knows how long it’ll take me to shake him? And even then, there are still too many questions unanswered. We aren’t completely sure he’s working alone.”

  “What?” I asked. “What does that mean? Why would he be working with someone?”

  “We have a working theory that Langley’s friends with Roberto Martella.”

  “Robbie?” I asked.

  Ryder’s eyes slowly panned over to mine as his coffee mug hit the table.

  “You know him?”

  “Robbie. The guy that owns the car shop in the middle of the city?”

  “Yes. That’s him.”

  “I know him. I cooked dinner for him and Langley on many occasions,” I said.

  “Do you have any idea who that man’s father is?” he asked.

  “Mr. Martella?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Diego Martella. We busted him five years back for his massive heroin operation.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked. “Roberto’s dealing heroin?”

  “His father was, yes. Using the ports and trafficking it in by the pounds. We figured out that days before he was sent to jail, his business was handed off to his son, Roberto. At the very least, he runs the shadiest rental car company in the city. Uses stolen and retired license plates on cars that are connected to all sorts of criminal cases. Makes the cars harder to trace if you can’t run a plate and get the right car to pop up.”

  I was stunned at what Ryder was telling me. My hands began to tremble and coffee began to slosh over the sides of the mug. I heard Ryder’s footsteps come closer as I closed my eyes. Tears dripped from my lashes to my hands as his warmth encompassed me. His hands wrapped around mine, steadying the mug as his thumbs traced along my skin.

  “I shouldn't have bombarded you with that,” he said.

  “I don’t… I don’t know what to… say,” I said.

  “The point I was trying to make is that there are too many cogs in play right now and we still have no idea where Langley is. My main priority-- setting aside a favor to my friend-- is to keep you safe. But I can’t protect you if you’re going to defy my expertise every step of the way. We have to run offense here. If we constantly play on the defensive side, someone’s eventually going to get hurt.”

  “But Langley waited for an opportunity when we were both gone to trash my apartment. What makes you think he’ll suddenly come out of the woodworks the moment I try to go get my face wash?” I asked.

  “It isn’t about him attacking,” he said. “Right now, that man has no idea where you are. And leaving to go back into town jeopard
izes that. You said so yourself, he’s got money. Despite the alimony payments no longer processing, he’s still got access to his wealth somewhere. Until I know what he’s doing, where he is, and what he’s capable of, the only upper hand we have is you being here without his knowledge.”

  “Then can’t we stick to backroads like we did leaving? You said so yourself, if he finds us you could probably shake him.”

  “You’re not listening, Alicia.”

  “Yes, I am,” I said as I pulled away from him. “But I can’t let this man bury me in my fear. I can’t let him continue to have control and influence over me. There are things in that apartment I need. But there are also things I want. Things that are comforting to me that I don’t have here. I have a fireproof box full of money for situations exactly like this. I planned for every contingency with this man. I have a plan to get out of every corner he could back me into. I’m sorry, Ryder. But I need to go back to my apartment. I’ve done too much running and too much planning to have it all thrown away because I didn’t foresee being shoved out of my apartment and thrown into a damn mansion my ex happens to own.”

  I set my coffee down onto the kitchen sink as I drew deep breaths in through my nose. I could feel the tension growing in the room. I knew Ryder wasn’t happy with me. He meant the best for me and he was doing what he had been asked to do. Using the tactics he knew were pertinent to keep me safe. But some things were more important than safety.

  Sometimes, having things that made someone feel normal were more important.

  I needed those things. The familiar scent of my toothpaste and the feel of my soft-bristled toothbrush. I needed some semblance of the routine I’d established over the past year to return.

  If it didn’t, I was scared I’d be swept away again.

  Sucked back into that dark hole I’d allowed to eat me up in college.

  “You aren’t going up into the apartment,” Ryder said. “But I’ll take you into town. We’ll call one of the guys and you can talk them through where everything is. We’ll swing by, get your stuff, and get back here without getting out of the car. It’s the best I can do.”