Wild Embrace: A Single Dad Romance (Wilder Irish Book 11)

by Mari Carr

Not that she was anywhere near that yet with Ryder. He’d spent the entire week working at the stadium again, and she suspected it was because he was trying to avoid her. Especially when Helen mentioned in passing how strange it was for him to be out of the office so much.

  “Tell me all about him.”

  “Actually, I’ve known him for years. So have you.”

  Pop Pop studied her face intently, nodding. “I see. You’re finally ready to admit that you’re smitten with Ryder.”

  Darcy sighed heavily, considering Ryder’s observation about her family knowing everyone else’s business. She was starting to think maybe that wasn’t always a good thing. “Does everyone in the family know?”

  Pop Pop chuckled. “Only the ones who’ve been paying attention. So yes, I venture to guess everyone knows.”

  “At least smitten is a better word than crush.”

  “But the real question is how smitten. Twittery stomach?”

  She laughed. “Check.”

  “Sweaty palms?”

  “Again, check.”

  “How about that heart?”

  “Races a million miles a minute whenever he’s around.”

  Pop Pop’s grin faded. “So am I to assume from your sad expression and heavy sighs that your feelings aren’t returned?”

  Darcy shrugged. Because the truth of the matter was there were times—brief moments—when she thought Ryder did have feelings for her. Then he’d shutter them away behind that stupid “I’m the boss” excuse.

  Which he and Darcy both knew wasn’t the real reason he was pushing her away. Ryder’s reluctance to pursue a relationship was based on past history, and Darcy wasn’t sure that was something she could defeat. Especially not with Ryder digging his heels in and avoiding her like the plague.

  “Why didn’t you ever remarry after Grandma Sunday passed away?”

  If Pop Pop was surprised by her abrupt left turn, he didn’t show it. “That’s an interesting question. One I’ve had quite a few decades to consider. And the answer might surprise you.”

  Darcy twisted on her stool to face him. “Surprise me?”

  “The easy answer is, she was my true love, the one my heart beat for, and no one else could ever take her place.”

  Darcy tried to understand why he thought that would shock her. “Are you saying that isn’t the answer? Because that’s what I would have expected you to say.”

  “She was all that to me, Darcy. She absolutely was. But…” Pop Pop glanced over his shoulder. Padraig was leaning against the counter at the end of the bar, talking to Emmy, a romance writer and regular at the pub.

  “But…” Darcy prodded.

  “In the past, I’ve always said she was my one true love. The only one for me. I don’t say that anymore because…”

  “Because Paddy’s always listening.” Her cousin, Padraig, had married his true love, Mia. And for one year, they’d lived a lifetime of love before she’d passed away—too young—from a brain tumor.

  Pop Pop turned and smiled at her. “He is. When you get to be my age, you have a lot of time to look back over your life, to consider decisions you made, paths you walked. You can acknowledge regrets and either do something about them or let them go. And if there’s one thing I’ve discovered, there’s never one thing driving a person’s decisions, but a million little things. I didn’t remarry after Sunday because my heart was shattered, but also because I had seven children and a business to run. Dating wasn’t something I had time for, even if I wanted to, so I shut that part down.”

  “Do you regret that?”

  “I don’t. But I will regret it if Padraig follows in my footsteps. I no longer believe there is just one true love for each of us, but instead, a multitude of possibilities for genuine happiness and love. My heart didn’t truly stop beating when Sunday died, but I believed it did. I wonder sometimes if there had been an Emmy sitting at the end of the bar over the years, and I failed to see her because I’d blinded myself to not only love but to hope.”

  Darcy leaned back, moved by her grandfather’s words. “So you believe it’s possible for someone to love more than once?”

  “I was much older when I lost Sunday. We’d shared thirty years together. That was not enough years for me, but it was a lifetime compared to what Ryder shared with his bride. What Paddy had with Mia. They are both young men, and there are far too many things they are going to miss out on if they…well, if they can’t give their hearts to another. Ryder has your heart, doesn’t he?”

  Darcy nodded. “You said you knew you loved Grandma the night you met her.”

  “I did. I did indeed.”

  “I’m younger than Ryder. Ten years younger. And everyone keeps calling this a crush, which makes it sound like something silly that I’ll get over eventually.”

  “I don’t believe it’s a crush.”

  This was why Darcy had sought out her grandfather. He never belittled her feelings. He always took what she said seriously.

  “I was only twenty when I met Sunday, and she was but nineteen. Age means nothing when it comes to matters of the heart.”

  “Was there anything someone could have done to open your eyes after Grandma Sunday passed away?” she asked.

  “Ryder is still grieving for his wife?”

  Darcy didn’t know how to answer that because she wasn’t sure how Ryder felt about Denise. His story had ended much differently than Pop Pop’s, but Darcy wouldn’t share that with her grandfather. It wasn’t her secret to share, and she would never betray Ryder’s trust.

  Prior to their conversation in the elevator, she had assumed Ryder was in the same boat as Padraig, still grieving. But then he revealed Denise’s betrayal, and now Darcy couldn’t decide if he was avoiding relationships because of a broken heart or because of wounded pride. Or, most likely, both.

  He insisted he didn’t believe in love and romance. What she couldn’t figure out was if he’d always felt that way or if his feelings had changed after Denise’s death.

  Because of the way things ended, it was clear Ryder’s feelings about his late wife had run the gamut from red-hot rage to gut-wrenching sorrow to zombie-like numbness over the past four years. Darcy suspected there was a broken heart buried beneath that hodge-podge of emotion, but Ryder’s pride wouldn’t accept that, wouldn’t face it.

  Of course, she also couldn’t dismiss the fact he’d proclaimed he was thirty-four and that he’d never seen fireworks or found true love.

  The only thing that was clear to her was Ryder seemed to believe his life was fine just the way it was, and she desperately wanted to prove him wrong.

  “She’s been gone four years.” That wasn’t an answer, but it was all Darcy had.

  “You care deeply for the man.”

  Darcy nodded, even though Pop Pop hadn’t asked a question.

  “And Clint.”

  She smiled. “He’s an amazing boy. I love him. And Vince, even though he’s become a grumpy bastard.”

  Pop Pop grinned. “Puberty does a number on otherwise pleasant young boys.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes until finally Pop Pop reached over and placed his hand on hers. She glanced down at his gnarled fingers and wrinkled skin, always amazed by the strength and the warmth in his old hands.

  “Open his eyes, Darcy. If anyone can warm a lonely heart, it’s you, my dear.”

  Pop Pop always knew exactly what to say, always found a way to bolster her wavering confidence. It was another reason she’d sought him out today. Not seeing Ryder this past week had given her too much time to fret and question everything.

  She smiled. “I hope that’s true.”

  “Never doubt it, lovely girl. Never doubt it.”

  Ryder lowered the footrest on the recliner as soon as the football game ended. He had a shit-ton of chores to take care of around the house, but the idea of actually doing them seemed beyond him at the moment.

  He sighed heavily.

  “You okay?”

 
; He glanced over at Leo, who was sprawled out on the couch, looking just as unenergetic as he felt. Yvonne was working at the pub today, and the boys were somewhere outside, playing with a bunch of the neighborhood kids. Reba was napping in her crib.

  It was on the tip of Ryder’s tongue to give Leo his standard “I’m fine” response, but he didn’t. Ever since he’d kissed Darcy—again—on the couch Leo was now sitting on, he’d been kicking his own ass, half the time for kissing her, the other half for pushing her away.

  He’d taken the coward’s way out all week, opting to work at the stadium again—for the second week in a row—something he couldn’t continue to do. This coming week he was going to have to bite the bullet and return to the office.

  He felt the need to talk about some of the shit rumbling around in his head, and Leo was the closest thing he had to a friend. “I need some advice.”

  Leo’s raised eyebrows spoke to how seldom Ryder asked for personal help. “You got it. What’s up?”

  “I can’t seem to stop kissing Darcy.”

  “Yvonne’s cousin Darcy?” Leo’s mild astonishment over Ryder asking for advice was nothing compared to his outright shock now.

  “We got trapped in the elevator at work on Halloween, during that power outage. One thing led to another, and I kissed her.”

  “Wow. Have to admit I didn’t see that coming. I mean, I’ve always sort of suspected Darcy had a thing for you, a crush or something, but you’ve never seemed interested in dating.”

  Ryder wasn’t interested in dating, but that wasn’t the part of Leo’s statement that caught his attention. “A crush?”

  Leo shrugged casually. “She’s never said anything. Neither has Yvonne. It’s just a feeling I got whenever I saw you two together.”

  “Do you think she’s too young for me?”

  Leo shook his head. “No. I don’t think age matters. You’re both adults. Is that what’s bothering you?”

  “No. It’s not.” He was latching onto the age thing as an excuse—a lame one at that. The more time he spent with Darcy, the more he found himself struggling to recall that she was younger. And he hadn’t thought of her as the babysitter since Halloween.

  Leo leaned forward. “So that can’t stop kissing her comment makes me think these make-out sessions weren’t limited to the elevator.”

  “I’m attracted to her. I haven’t felt that spark toward a woman since…”

  Leo nodded in understanding. He didn’t need to hear the words. “Denise has been gone four years, Ryder. To some, that might seem like a long time, but if you don’t think you’re ready to move on—”

  “That’s not—” Ryder stopped himself mid-sentence, very nearly confessing it wasn’t Denise’s death, but her betrayal that had kept him from seeking out other women. That and the goddamned impotence he hadn’t managed to overcome until…Darcy. “That’s not a problem.”

  “Is it Clint holding you back? Because I’ll admit, I had those same concerns about Vince when I started dating Yvonne. It’s hard to start a relationship when there’s a kid involved, you know. I mean, if things go south, it’s not just your heart that’s broken.”

  In truth, Ryder hadn’t even considered that argument because before he’d started this conversation with Leo, he’d been dead set against dating Darcy, period. But now…it felt like he was actually considering it. “I hadn’t thought about that. Clint adores Darcy. Maybe I shouldn’t disrupt the status quo, because I wouldn’t want to jeopardize their relationship. If things didn’t work out—”

  “I don’t think that’s something you have to worry about,” Leo interjected. “Darcy’s crazy about the boys, and I can’t see her walking away from them, even if things between you two didn’t work out. Plus, with Yvonne and I living here—”

  “Darcy would still come over to visit.”

  “Yeah. She would. She’s family. Ryder…what is it that’s bothering you about this?”

  “I know what Darcy wants from a relationship, and I’m not sure I’m capable of giving it to her.”

  “What does she want?”

  “Love. Romance. Forever.”

  Leo leaned back, frowning slightly. “Were you and Denise happy together?”

  Leo’s question blindsided him.

  Denise was one topic neither of them had ever broached with each other. Leo had dated Denise all through high school, and her pregnancy with Vince hadn’t been planned. Leo had proposed to her on the spot, just as Ryder had when she’d told him she was pregnant with Clint. However, she’d rejected Leo’s proposal.

  Ryder had had a lot of time to reflect on Denise’s character the past few years, looking at her through a veil of anger, and the picture he’d painted of her wasn’t a pretty one. After high school graduation, Leo was going to work on the family farm, college not part of his plans. Denise was obviously aiming higher.

  He recalled that she’d been very impressed by his MBA, and after they married, her desire for the big house, the brand-new car, the designer clothes, proved that money mattered quite a lot to her. It was the main thing they consistently fought over because her spending was frequently out of hand.

  Now, he was beginning to see a lot of that was his fault, as well. He’d been raised by two workaholic parents, who proved their love not through affection or closeness but through financial security. He’d never thought—never wanted—to be like them, but when he looked back now, he wondered if Denise had spent so much money, and then sought out someone else, because he’d been so emotionally distant, his wallet open, but his heart…not so much.

  “I thought we were, but…” Ryder shook his head. “Toward the end…no. We weren’t happy.”

  “I always wondered.”

  “Had a feeling about that too?” Ryder asked.

  “What can I say? I’m deep.”

  The two of them laughed, and Ryder realized this conversation had helped. He wasn’t feeling quite as stressed out.

  “So…are you going to date Darcy?” Leo asked.

  If he was a wise man, he’d walk into work tomorrow and tell Darcy they couldn’t be anything more than friends, but Ryder knew he’d never get the words out. The simple truth was, he wanted her. And, for some insane reason, she wanted him.

  “I wish I knew,” he admitted. “Hey, do me a favor. Don’t mention this to Yvonne. Just in case I come to my senses.”

  Leo pretended to lock his lips and toss away the key. “It’s in the vault. But I’ll warn you now, secrets don’t exist in the Collins family. So if you do decide to date her, don’t get too set on keeping the relationship quiet. Oh, and you might want to clear your social calendar. The Collins clan does the holidays right.”

  “They do like to party, don’t they?”

  Leo’s smile filled his face, making it clear he didn’t have a problem with Yvonne’s large, loud, rowdy family. “I don’t mean to put the cart before the horse, but I hope you decide to go out with her, Ryder. The more I think about it, the more I think Darcy’s perfect for you.”

  Ryder couldn’t begin to figure out why Leo would think so, but before he could ask, Clint and Vince returned and the conversation ended.

  He forced himself up and managed to accomplish about a quarter of the things on his Sunday to-do list. Throughout the day, he mentally compiled a pros and cons list in regards to Darcy.

  The cons list was fairly substantial and included the boss situation, Clint, Darcy’s family, her beliefs about true love and romance, the age difference, and the fact he was bound and determined to remain single ’til death did he depart…alone.

  The pros list was much less impressive. In fact, there was only one thing encouraging him to pursue her.

  Darcy, herself.

  Because the simple truth was…he was enthralled by her, attracted to her, drawn to her.

  And no matter how many excuses—lame or otherwise—filled the cons side, he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—stay away.

  Chapter Seven

  Ryder
swiveled away from his desk in his leather office chair so he could face the large windows that overlooked the city. His office door was open and Darcy’s voice drifted down the hall. She was talking with two of her colleagues just outside the conference room, following Helen’s weekly department meeting.

  It was Friday again. And this week had been even more fucked up than the previous two. If things kept up like this, not only would his personal assistant, Phillip, quit, but Ryder would be fired.

  The worst day had been yesterday when Helen asked Darcy to assist her in presenting the graphics they’d created for a corporate holiday party, and Ryder had missed a large chunk of what was said.

  Instead, he’d been obsessing over Darcy’s perfume, wondering what the scent was and where she’d daubed it—her wrists, her neck? Then he’d imagined seeking that answer out, drawing his nose and lips over her bare skin until he found the spot where the smell was strongest and kissing her there.

  Since then, he’d decided he was suffering from a midlife crisis, and he had actually spent the better part of his lunch hour today looking at sports cars. He’d be willing to indulge any cliché if it helped him find a way to get the pretty young woman currently laughing down the hall out of his head.

  Unfortunately, he’d had to work at the office all week, rather than the stadium, and it seemed like every time he turned around, Darcy was there. Probably because they kept finding ways to seek each other out.

  Monday, he’d followed her to the coffee machine and they’d chatted briefly. Tuesday, she’d stopped by his office to invite him to grab a sandwich at the café on the first floor with her and a couple of other people in the office for lunch. He’d surprised himself—and their colleagues—by accepting, and for the first time in forever, he’d taken a lunch break that wasn’t connected to a meeting for work. And enjoyed it.

  On Wednesday, she’d gone for broke and convinced him to knock off work early—which meant on time—to join her for a quick happy hour at Pat’s Pub. The two of them had kicked back at the counter with her grandfather and best friend, Brooklyn, drinking a couple pints of Guinness each and polishing off a large order of cheese fries.