by Harlow Stone
I pull away so I can see her eyes, hoping she’ll explain. Elle a few months ago wouldn’t, but the beautiful woman underneath me today continues to surprise me.
“I didn’t know, or maybe I forgot what it felt like, but it’s home,” she says.
I watch the dark clouds that have forever been over her head part. I watch the clarity set into her beautiful green eyes but I’m still confused so I ask her, “what’s home, beautiful?”
She smiles that sexy as fuck smile she graced me with this morning. It brings out a small dimple in her cheek that I never knew she had and makes her look like the most carefree woman in the world. One I’ve never met until today but plan to hold onto for the rest of my life.
“I didn’t know it before, I just thought I needed to leave Ontario and I needed to be here, because it was my calm place. I figured it out though, I didn’t need this beach, and I didn’t need North Carolina. I love it but I didn’t need it.” Her eyes get serious and she holds my face in her hands. “I just needed you, and North Carolina just happens to be where you are. You’re home, Ryder. I haven’t felt home in a long time, but you’re it. You’re my home. So thank you for that.”
For the first time in my life I’m at a loss for words, I don’t like words much—I like action. I also haven’t felt this lump in my throat or the irregular beat in my chest since I was told my mother was dying of cancer.
I’m her home.
I let out a small gasp, fighting for air into my lungs because my life just told me something that means more to me than any ‘I love you’ ever would. I remember her words in the hospital, in the shower; this is what she meant.
This is what she wanted to give me.
I fight the blurriness in my eyes, feeling like a pussy while at the same moment knowing I’m the luckiest prick on the planet. I watch the smile on her face reappear as she notices what’s going through my head, watching the emotions play out on my face. I give her everything, and hiding who I am is not something I would keep from her.
Fighting for air, and struggling to speak I manage to say, “You remember in the hospital, when you told me ‘I love you’ didn’t seem like enough? So you told me you loved the fuck out of me and that would have to do?”
I watch the recognition of our conversation play out over her beautiful face as she nods, “yes, I remember.”
I press my forehead to hers, holding onto her pretty little stubborn head. “You didn’t just give me enough, beautiful. You gave me everything. And that’s the best feeling in the whole fucking world, and no I love you would ever top that.”
I devour her mouth, reaching over to the bottom shelf on the table. I was going to wait, not because I wanted to but because I’m still a fucking sucker for this woman and I wanted to make it perfect. Perfect isn’t us, but this moment is the best one of my life so I don’t see the reason to wait any longer.
Leaning to her right side, I take some of the weight off her body and watch her fractured arm settle across my chest. The fact that I’m still buried inside her and half-hard only completes the moment.
Lightly taking her hand, I look into her sated eyes. “I’m probably going to fuck something up. At some point it’s inevitable. I hope I don’t, but if I told you life will be perfect from here on out it would make me a liar.”
She smirks, tears still lingering in her eyes. “I’m the moodiest, handsome, and this life of ours isn’t a fairytale.”
I love that as serious as she could be she’s able to lighten the situation. Life is not perfect, she knows that above anyone. We’ve both been through shit and are smart enough and old enough to know that sometimes life hands you an ugly fucking curveball and if you’re strong enough, you’ll be able to hit that. Might not make a home run, but you’ll work through the bases and have the backs of those around of you.
“I’m a moody prick too, and you’re stubborn as hell so I guess we’ll complement one another in the oddest of ways. Regardless, you’re still the only woman in the world I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
I watch her eyes go from sated to shocked as I carefully slip the ring on her finger. I know how she feels about family, marriage and love. A lot I learned from her but I also listened to Jimmy. Not wanting her to feel pressured, I look into her eyes and say, “I don’t ever expect you to put a white dress on. I don’t expect you to give me children, or have dinner on the table every night. I don’t expect anything from you, except that you love me and I remain you’re home.
“I’m a selfish prick so I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want my last name to be yours, but if that’s not up for negotiation then I will never push you. I just want you, Elle. I want to keep you and if you’d do me the honor of wearing that ring, even without the dress, the last name and the kids, you’d make me the luckiest man in the world. I just want you. It’s as simple as that.”
I watch the tears run down her beautiful face, she never looked at the ring but that’s not her, she doesn’t care. This moment is bigger than the jewelry and I respect the fuck out of her for being that way.
“Say something, beautiful,” I whisper against her lips.
She presses hers back to mine, eager and hard, and I taste the saltiness of her tears. She pushes lightly against my chest with her left hand, gasping when she finally gets a look at the ring before she moves her eyes to mine.
“I didn’t need the ring,” she chokes out between breathes. “I just needed you. Fuck, I never thought I would be here Ryder, I didn’t,” she sobs. “But now that I am, I don’t want to be anywhere else. Nothing would make me happier, Ryder. I’ll take your name with pleasure, and if you truly want the dress I think I could throw that in too,” she giggles.
Fucking giggles.
Other than when she’s talking dirty to me I’ve never heard a more beautiful sound.
Jayne Elle Callaghan.
I’m keeping her.
Chapter Twenty-four
Elle
I can’t help but look at my left hand as I pull the car door open. The ring Ryder got me a few months ago still takes my breath away but I’m not about flash. He knows that. He also put a lot of thought into what he gave me and I am more thankful for his thoughtfulness than I am for the ring.
Apparently one of his first jobs with Callaghan Security was for a popular jeweler, not Tiffany and Co., but a jeweler that was known for incredibly unique handmade creations. Long story short he and his team discovered who the thieving CEO was, and he also made a friend.
Ryder worked with Phillip DeSanto to create what can only be described as beautiful. The ring is an inch wide on the top. Multiple vines wrap underneath the cherry blossom which somehow blooms into a floating water lily, if that makes any sense. It combines my past with my future, and in the center of the platinum creation is what can only be described as Ryder’s eyes, joined into one. A giant, black diamond lays among my memories, and the inscription cut inside the vines is what makes it us: Keep me, ‘cause I sure as fuck am not letting you go.
Many women would cringe at the crass word on their wedding ring. Good thing I’m not most woman and while I may be kinder and friendlier, I still give two fucks what someone else thinks of me.
I’ve gone through my misery, grief and hardships. I’ve went through my stubborn bitch faze where I hated the world. I’ve been knocked down a time or two only to drag myself back up. But now I have Ryder to put me back together and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.
I love that man with everything I have, and I show him daily. I haven’t put the white dress on, but life has been perfect and despite my general moodiness, it’s complete. I still have worrisome things I need to speak to him about, but I don’t dwell on it as I open the door to my Chevelle.
“Where are we now, Gina?” Matty asks in excitement. I’ve never forgotten about him, nor have I left him behind.
It took about a month before we could get him to North Carolina. I had to heal and so did he. We also had Cabe working aroun
d the clock to get him American Citizenship and into his house. I’m not sure how he pulled it off so fast, but I assume Callaghan Security has connections in high places so I didn’t bother to ask. Willow Beach welcomed Matty with open arms. I’m grateful that Ryder was with me when we picked Matty up from the airport to escort him to his new home because I was an emotional mess.
As we expected, he loved it. Willow Beach is a mixture of individuals from many walks of life, but mainly older, developmentally challenged adults who just need a small hand here and there, and a kind group of people who understand them better.
I would have loved to move Matty next door to me, but after many conversations with Ryder, and professionals who work with individuals like Matty on regular basis, this is where he would be happiest. After many sleepless nights and phone calls, I put my own selfish wants to keep him close aside and bought him a house at Willow Beach.
After meeting some of the staff as well as other residents, I knew this was where he would be happy and that’s what’s important. Matty is a part of me and I will forever be mother hen, but after watching him interact with the people there, playing ring toss and having a community barbecue, I knew this was his place.
He had a home.
I’d like to say I embraced my inner bitch and dragged him to my home where I could keep him safe, away from someone who might speak to him unfairly, but I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
He was just too happy.
So now, after getting him settled at the Willow Beach community yesterday, Ryder and I have taken him to his new job. It’s only a mile up the road and he can ride the bike we bought him here. If it’s cold, he can use the bus.
I grab Matty’s hand, ignoring his question of where we are as Ryder walks behind us. I didn’t park out front; I pulled into the side of the building so he didn’t see the sign. I pull open the side door used for employees and walk Matty into the building.
“There’s a dog!” Matty exclaims as he drops my hand and heads for the Labrador. I let him coddle for a few moments before Nancy comes around the corner, excited to meet her new worker.
“Well hello there,” she says, bright smile on her friendly face. “I heard you’re a hard worker and might be able to help me out around here.”
Matty stands up from petting the sweet dog and has a confused look on his face, switching from staring at Ryder and I to staring at Nancy. “My friends brought me here,” he says uncomfortably. I don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, so I clear the confusion.
“You wanted to work with animals Matty, and this is an animal clinic. Nancy needs help with animals, not only to look after them but to help her out around the clinic. I told her I knew someone perfect for the job and I was hoping that you’d like to take it, but it’s entirely up to you.”
If I was a stronger woman, the woman I was months ago, I’d be able to stop the tears from gathering in my eyes. But I can’t.
“I can help? Miss Marion said I was a good helper and I went to school to work with animals, Nancy, so I’d like to help!” Matty exclaims.
The wetness runs down my cheeks. I don’t make a move to stop them as Ryder wraps his arms around me from behind. I look to Nancy noticing she’s about as choked up as I am. She’s clearly a good person and sensitive not just with animals, but kind people as well.
Clearing her throat she says, “Matty, I would love it if you could help. It would mean a lot to me and the animals. I have a baby Jack Russel in the back that needs fed and attention around the clock. I don’t have the time, and sometimes you’d need to take the animal home with you, but if you can make the time it would be a big help.”
I catch the sob before it escapes my throat, and remind myself once again when I leave here I will thank my angels in heaven for putting kind people in my new friend’s life.
“I can do it, Nancy! I love animals! Miss Marion let me help a baby robin bird when its mom died, and it lived, Nancy! I saved it!”
I turn my head into Ryder’s chest, thankful that he knows I can’t keep my shit together when I witness kind things such as this. I never cried before, ever. Now when I see something sweet and vulnerable it takes all I have to leave the house without a box of fucking Kleenex.
“Well, let’s do a walk through, Matty. I have a lot of things that need doing, and you and I are going to be busy. You up for it?” Nancy asks.
Matty smiles a big one that melts my entire heart. He marches the few steps toward me and puts his arms around Ryder and me. “Thanks, friends! Thanks so much!” Turning around he announces, “I’m ready, Nancy! Gina showed me the bus schedule and I can stay until just after supper time!”
I don’t bother reminding him that he has a bike at home, or telling him we stocked his fridge. He already knows, and Nancy has worked with people from Willow Beach before so she’s familiar with the ropes.
Ryder pulls me toward the exit. As much as I’m not ready to leave, I know he’s telling me it’s time. Time to the let the bird fly the coop, time to let Matty have responsibility in doing what he always wanted to do.
I follow him, not thinking about the fact that I now own Second Chance, the animal rescue center that was crumbling until Cabe informed me and I bought it.
Whatever makes Matty happy, whatever makes him whole.
I’ll do it.
***
I walk beside Ryder, tears streaming down my once miserable face as he leads me to the Chevelle. Matty loves this car, and since we only live thirty minutes away I couldn’t not pick him up in it.
“You gonna be okay, beautiful?”
Ryder has twisted me around so my back is leaning against the car, his face close to mine. I’m not ready to talk about it in depth yet, because I don’t think I can talk without crying. I nod my head and simply say, “I’m okay, let’s go home before I ball my face off like a needy woman and I make an ass of myself.” I chuckle.
It’s not lost on Ryder that my humor is masking what’s underneath, but I’m thankful that being as we are in a semi-public space, he grants my wishes and drives us home.
Chapter Twenty-five
One week later.
No.
It can’t be.
Not fucking possible.
To say I’m shocked to shit would be a huge understatement. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know who to talk to and I have no idea where the fuck I’m going or what I’m doing. What started as a normal day taking Ryder and his men lunch at Callaghan Security before they left on a job for the week has quickly gone to shit.
My world just turned upside down.
I feel sick, I feel lost, and all I know is I need to get out of here. I need space. I need to think and tie up loose ends.
Pulling into the drive at Ryder’s house—our house—I do the one thing I’ve been good at. The one thing that makes me have purpose and allows me to get my head on straight. Quickly packing a small suitcase, and getting Norma in the car, I run.
Running.
It’s what I do best.
Do I want to leave?
No.
But I have to.
It’s what Jayne O’Connor would do, it’s what Harley Green would have done and it’s what Elle Davidson perfected.
So I run.
***
I have trouble breathing as I drive, like a bag of stones is hanging around my neck, pulling me toward the ground. The memories of my past keep playing over and over in my mind and I don’t know whether I want to cry or hit something. I breathe deep through my nose, and out through my mouth. Over and over for miles.
How the fuck did this happen?
The past few months with Ryder have been bliss. Everyone has ups, downs, fuck ups. I don’t expect life to be a fairytale and I am living proof that those are a crock of shit. No life is perfect, but this past little while mine has come incredibly close to being so.
After all that I’ve been through, after everything I’ve overcome I finally found a little peace. My mind has calmed,
the nightmares are few and far between and when they happen I have Ryder to comfort me. Why couldn’t I have stayed in that bubble? Why does this cruel thing we call life have to throw another fork in the road and make me second guess what I have been dead set against for years?
The vibrating of my phone on the dash of my Chevelle snaps me to the present, I know I can’t ignore him and I would never want to. Ryder deserves all that is good in the world and I don’t want to worry while he’s away on a job.
I clear my throat. “Hey, handsome.”
“Where are you, beautiful?”