by E. K. Blair
We arrive home before his mother and aunts do, so Ryan stashes the pizzas in the oven and offers to take the older kids upstairs to play to give their dads a little break. There is a large playroom that he takes the three kids into and has me shut the door behind them.
“Can you guys keep a secret?” he asks them.
Madison, Bailey, and Connor, his four year-old nephew, all say ‘yes’ in excited unison when Ryan pulls out the bag of sugary junk. I sit back on one of the couches in the room and laugh as Ryan and the kids dive into everything. Watching how he is with these kids, laughing and playing on the floor, is another reason for me to like him even more. I know he owns a successful business and works hard, but it’s nice that he has this lighthearted side to him as well.
Ryan comes over to sit next to me with one of the pieces of chocolate covered bacon.
“Here,” he says as he tries to hand it to me.
Pushing his hand away, I say, “Gross. I’m not eating that.”
“It’s surprisingly really good.” He takes a bite out of it and holds the leftover piece to my mouth. “Just try it,” he says, and I open my mouth and bite it out of his grip.
I’m amazed that it is actually good. The salt and smoke of the bacon blends well with the sweetness of the chocolate.
“Okay, you win. That was actually really good,” I admit.
Ryan looks out the window that’s over my shoulder then back to the kids.
“Guys, eat fast. Our mom’s just pulled up.”
The three of them giggle as they try desperately to scarf down the rest of the sweets. Ryan and I laugh while watching them in their simplicity of fun. We get up, and Ryan wads up all the wrappers.
Holding out my hands, I say, “Give them to me. I’ll hide them.”
The kids run downstairs and Ryan hands over the wrappers as I walk to his room. He follows me in and closes the door behind us. I walk into the bathroom and toss everything in the trashcan. When I walk out, Ryan is sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Come over here,” he says.
Walking over to him, he pulls me between his legs and slides his arms around my waist. Because of our height difference, we are almost level. Looking at me, he says, “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
I smile at him with my hands gripped on his shoulders. “Me too.”
Placing his hand behind my neck, he draws me in so he can kiss me. He keeps the kiss short then pulls me down to sit on his knee. The room is dark as we stare at each other with our foreheads resting together. Being like this with him, in this quiet room, is peaceful. Neither one of us speaks as we sit here together.
“We should go downstairs,” I whisper.
Whispering back, he says, “Not yet.”
We stay like this, me on his knee, foreheads together, when Connor comes bursting through the door.
“Busted!” he shouts.
I jump up, and Ryan turns to him. “What do you mean?”
“Bailey had chocolate on her face and Mom is blaming you.”
“Okay, kid, let’s go face the firing squad.”
When Connor starts running back downstairs, Ryan and I follow.
“What did you feed these kids?” Tori asks Ryan.
“I’ll never tell, and neither will they,” he jokes as the kids start laughing uncontrollably. “Call it a going-home present,” he says with a wink.
“Payback’s a bitch. Just remember that, Ryan. One of these days, when you have kids, you’ll see.”
Ryan laughs at her, and I try to stifle my laugh as well. Watching their playful banter is pretty funny.
The house is quiet and still. Everyone left about an hour ago, and I have been curled up on the couch, reading one of my favorite childhood books I found on the bookshelf, since I got out of the shower. Ryan is upstairs, getting cleaned up, while I drink a cup of hot tea and read as the rain trickles down the large windows that look out to the beach.
“Where’s Ryan?” Donna asks as she walks into the room.
“He’s taking a shower.”
She grabs a couple blankets and joins me on the couch. “Here, cover up. It’s cold.”
Draping the blanket across my lap, I set the book down and say, “Thanks.”
She wraps up in her blanket and asks, “How are you doing, dear?”
“Good actually. I’m sorry I wasn’t around much to visit with everyone. I hope no one thought I was being rude.”
“No one thought that. Please, no need to apologize.”
“It’s just . . . I’m not used to being around a large group. It’s a little overwhelming for me.”
“You don’t need to explain. Everyone loves you. It was a nice surprise to have you, and Ryan seems really happy.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure how to respond to her statement.
“Ryan said he went to meet your parents on Christmas Eve. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had a chance to ask him about it. How did it go?” she questions.
Looking down at my tea, I shake my head. “Not well.”
She reaches over and places her hand on my knee. “What happened?”
I sit there, trying to figure out where I should begin. I’ve been so busy the past few days that I haven’t had much time to think about our fight. Now that I am searching for the words, the finality of our fight plays back in my head. I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, and when I open my mouth to speak, I can’t seem to get anything out. I close my mouth and stare into Ryan’s mother’s eyes.
“Oh, sweetie,” is all she says when she scoots closer and wraps me in her arms.
How is it that this woman I just met yesterday seems to read me better than my own mother? Why can’t my mother just love me? Why has she never loved me? My thoughts become too much, and I begin to weep quietly as Donna rubs my back. My mother has never comforted me like this, not even when I was a little girl. When I was younger, it was always the nanny who would lie with me when I got sick, or put Band-Aids on my knees when I would fall off my bike. Why couldn’t I have had a loving family like Ryan’s?
“Do you want to tell me about what happened?” she asks as she pulls away.
Wiping my tears, I decide to open up to her. “We got in a bad fight. It wasn’t good. They told me they were done with me and not to come back.”
“My God,” she says quietly in shock.
“What’s worse is that Ryan heard it all.”
“Ryan would never judge you for that.”
“I hope not, but it was embarrassing nonetheless.”
“What were you arguing about?” she asks.
“The same thing we always fight about. They aren’t happy with my choices. I’m not good enough. I don’t measure up to the name they work hard for.” Donna leans over to the end table and hands me a box of tissues. I pull one out and wipe the tears from my cheeks. “It’s always been this way, but then at Thanksgiving my mother told me that I was nothing but an embarrassment to her.”
“I’m so sorry, dear. No child should ever have to hear that.”
“Hear what?” Ryan questions, and when I look up, I see him walking down the stairs. He crosses the room and comes to sit next to me on the couch as I face his mother. I try not to look at him as he wraps one of his arms around me.
“Candace is telling me about what happened the other night.”
“Mom.”
“It’s fine,” I say.
Covering my hand with hers, she asks, “Do you have any other family at all?”
“No. It’s only ever been the three of us since my father’s parents’ passed away.”
“What about your mother’s family?”
“I’ve never met them. I have never known them to speak. I’m not even sure they know about me.” Wiping my cheeks again, Ryan rests his other hand on my leg. He doesn’t say anything, he just sits there, letting his mom and I talk.
She shakes her head as if she can’t believe what I am saying. Leaning forward, she t
akes me in her arms again. The comfort I am getting, being held by both Ryan and his mother is almost too much for me, but I know this is what I’ve been missing my whole life. I wrap my arms around Donna as more tears fall.
Letting go of me, she says, “I’m glad you’re here with us,” as she brushes her thumbs under my eyes. “I’ll let the two of you be,” she says to Ryan then kisses my forehead. When she leaves the room, Ryan pulls me back onto his chest.
“Don’t cry, babe,” he says softly in my ear.
“I’m tired. I don’t want to talk anymore.”
Ryan gets off the couch, and I follow him upstairs. Walking into his room, I go into the bathroom to take my sleeping pill and brush my teeth. When I walk out, he is still standing by the door. I crawl into his bed and don’t even question him when he slides in behind me. He pulls me into him and curls himself around me. Neither one of us moves, we just lie there, snuggled up together. I’ve never had this before. But there is something about Ryan, about the way he makes me feel, that makes me want this—with him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Morning, babe.”
Lifting my head and looking up at Ryan, in the still-dark room, he has me tucked tightly against him. Trying to wake from my sleep, I let my head fall lazily back down on his chest. His thumb is stroking my shoulder, and I blink a few times before fully opening my eyes.
The room is cold, and I sink further down in the bed beneath the covers.
I hear Ryan chuckle under his breath as he says, “What are you doing?”
“I’m cold,” I whisper.
“You’re always cold.”
I roll over onto my stomach and look up at him. “I know.”
He reaches down, pulls me back up against him, and wraps the comforter around me.
Aside from Jase, I have never slept a full night in bed with any other man. I thought it would be weird; maybe it would be with anyone else, but with Ryan it feels safe.
We are supposed to be driving back to Seattle later today, and I’m not quite sure how Jase is going to react to this new development. He knows I’m here; I texted him after the fight with my parents to let him know I was going to be with Ryan, but I haven’t spoken with him since I have been here.
“Why are you so quiet?” Ryan asks me.
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
Snaking my arm around his waist, I say, “Jase. He and Mark will be back Saturday.”
He rolls on his side and props himself up on his elbow. Looking down at me, he says, “Stop thinking,” as he leans down and nuzzles his head in my neck, lightly nipping on the sensitive flesh. Goosebumps begin to prick on my skin. Raising his head, my hands holding his face, he says, “Do you know how beautiful you look right now?”
His words make my heart quicken, and I pull his face down to me and kiss him.
“Are you guys all packed up?” his mother asks as Ryan pulls out some cold pizza for us to eat.
We spent the morning lying in bed, dozing in and out of sleep, and just enjoying the calm of being alone.
Handing me a slice, he turns to her and says, “Yeah, I have to go to my office and get a bunch of paperwork done, and Candace has to work tonight.”
The three of us sit together at the table, eating cold leftover pizza. I sit and listen to Ryan and his mother talk to each other. They have a natural flow and connection between them, and it’s apparent that the two of them are really close.
“Candace, will you take a quick walk with me on the beach before you go?” she asks.
I look up at Ryan, and he smiles at me before getting up from the table. Turning to look at Donna, I answer, “Yeah. Let me go grab my rain boots.”
The mist is light this morning, as we walk along the firm puddled sand. The wind is kicking hard, and the waves are rough as they crash along the shore.
“I’m sorry if I pushed too much yesterday,” she says, looking at me over her shoulder.
“You didn’t. I don’t ever talk about that stuff with anyone, but it felt nice to unload a little of it.”
“I feel just awful about what you’ve been through, and I want you to know, that even though we just met, you can talk to me whenever you want. I’ll give you my number before you leave. Call me, please.”
I nod my head and say, “Okay.”
“Everyone needs a parent they can depend on, including you, dear.”
I’m taken back by her words. Donna has such a warm and maternal demeanor.
She stops and turns to face me when she says, “He hasn’t always had it easy, you know? He doesn’t let a lot of people in, but I know you’re special to him, which makes you special to me. From what Ryan has told me, he’s really lucky to have you.”
We stand there, facing each other, and I’m at a complete loss for words. Where have these people been? Why are they just now in my life? Why couldn’t I have met Ryan years ago? I could have possibly been saved from so much, and now I feel like I could destroy this if he knew my secret. Standing on this beach right now with his mother, I vow to do everything I can to bury this deep down. If he knew, he would never look at me the way he does now. He would be disgusted, and everything would crumble. I can’t have that happen. I’ve lost Kimber, I’ve lost my parents, I’ve even lost myself; I can’t lose anyone else.
When Ryan pulls up to my house, I quickly jump out to stretch after the long drive. Ryan gets my bag and walks me inside. He follows me back to my room as I go to put my bag away. I turn to look at him standing in the doorway. He’s looking around my room as if he is taking in every detail.
“What?” I question, feeling a little too self-conscious of my belongings.
He walks right up to me and scoops me up in his arms. I love it when he holds me like this, I think he gets a kick out of how light I am and picks me up often. I wrap my arms around his neck and giggle as I look down at him.
“You’ve got a lot of ballet shit in here,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh at him.
“Yeah, I do.”
Leaning my head down, we spend the next few minutes kissing each other. He is always so patient with his kisses, never rushing. It’s perfect. He walks over to my bed and lays us down. He doesn’t push to go any further than kissing, and I thank God for that because I don’t think I am capable of doing anything else. He just holds me.
“What time do you have to be at work?” he asks.
“At seven. I have to close, so I won’t be home till midnight.”
“Come to my place tonight.”
“I don’t . . . I,” I stumble over my words, not really knowing what to say, but stop trying when I hear Ryan chuckle at me.
“Why are you nervous? You’ve slept with me for the past two nights.”
“Stop laughing at me,” I say as I nudge him in the ribs. “And that was just a little different.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother was there.”
He starts laughing again, and I know he’s not doing it to be rude, but I’m scared. This makes me nervous, and I don’t know how to explain it to him. I’m sure most girls wouldn’t have an issue with this. Most would be doing more than kissing like a couple of kids, but I don’t know what I’m doing, and this scares the shit out of me.
When he realizes that I’m no longer talking, he shifts over me, and in a more serious tone asks, “What’s going on?”
I shake my head, because what could I possibly say to a twenty-eight-year-old man that isn’t going to sound completely pathetic.
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him honestly.
“Say what you’re thinking, babe.”
“I told you that I don’t do this well. I just . . . I don’t.” Taking a deep breath I close my eyes and continue, “I don’t do this, I’m . . .” Shit. Why can’t I get my words out without sounding like an idiot?
“Open your eyes. Don’t hi
de from me.” When I look at him, he brushes his hand through my hair and says, “We’ll move as slow as you want. But, I want you in my bed tonight. I want you next to me.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“I want you to talk to me though. I need you to tell me what is going on in your head. I’ll never judge you.”
God, why does he have to say these things to me? His words pierce through me and melt me, but they also intimidate me. How can I be open with him when I have never opened up to anyone besides Jase?
He brings me out of my thoughts when he says, “I’ll never hurt you. I just need you to trust me.”
I nod my head at his words, but how can I trust him like that when I don’t trust anyone?
“Come on,” he says as he stands up and pulls me off the bed. “I have to run and take care of things at work. You’ll come over tonight.” He doesn’t ask, he just tells me. Not allowing a response, he leans down and kisses me before leaving.
After I unpack, I call Jase. I need to talk to someone about everything, and when he answers the phone, I break at the sound of his voice. My emotions are all over the place, but Jase is my rock, and I really need him right now.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t really know where to begin. I wish you were here. I just really need you right now.” My voice trembles as I try hard not to cry.
“Sweetie, you’re scaring me”
“I think I may be getting in way over my head with Ryan.”
“What are you talking about? What’s going on with Ryan?”
Not sure where to begin, I just start rambling uncontrollably, and I’m sure I’m not making any sense. “He kissed me, and I kissed him back. We’ve been sleeping next to each other. He told me he wants to be with me, and I foolishly agreed. Now we’re back home, and he wants me to spend the night at his place. And I just have no clue what the hell I’m doing. And you’re not here. And I’m freaking out. And . . .”
“Whoa, you have to slow down,” he cuts me off. “Go back. He kissed you?”
“Uh huh.”
“What happened?”