by J. Sterling
Thank God, my memory came back shortly after getting released from the hospital.
I remembered everything—from showing up at the bar, to calling Ryan from the car in hysterics, and right up until I crashed. I remembered seeing the huge tree and not being able to avoid it. But I didn’t remember anything else until waking up at the hospital with Ryan and Grant, although I was told I’d woken up several times before then.
For the next few weeks, Ryan catered to me, even though it wasn’t long before I was fine. He refused to leave my side, wanting to be sure that I was not only physically all right, but emotionally okay as well. Even after I went back to work, he made sure to be with me as much as possible.
It was sweet, being cared for like that. After having Matson, I’d never allowed anyone, aside from my parents, to do anything for me. I wasn’t sure I knew how. But with Ryan, it felt nice to allow myself to depend on him . . . right, even. He did things for me that I would have wanted to do for him if our roles were reversed, so I reminded myself of that fact often. Ryan showed me day after day what the true meaning of a partner was, something I’d never known before him, something I hadn’t been sure I was ever going to have.
He stayed at the house every night, sleeping on the couch so Matson wouldn’t get confused or pushed aside. And no matter how many times I told him to go back to work, Ryan kept insisting he wasn’t ready. He’d swapped shifts with one of their day bartenders so he was still at the bar while I was at work, but the second I got home with Matson in tow, Ryan was quickly behind.
I liked having him here. Actually, I loved having him here, but I knew it couldn’t last forever. Eventually, he needed to work the hours he was meant to, and would probably have to go back to sleeping at own place at night.
Secretly, I hated that he would probably go home soon. Ryan Fisher sure was easy to get used to.
“I want to be here for you until I know you’re okay.”
He assured me of that night after night, and part of me wondered if he needed to stay with me just as much as I needed him there. Ryan had gone through hell too. We both had.
Tragedy tended to bond the people who experienced it together, and no matter how badly others wanted to relate to our experience and understand it, they couldn’t. Ryan and I needed each other in order to come out on the other side.
• • •
One night as we were getting ready for bed, Matson told Ryan, “You should sleep in Mama’s bed. It’s way better than the couch.”
“Would you be okay with me sleeping in her bed?” Ryan asked, trying not to make it a big deal, but it was clear he wasn’t sure how to navigate this. When he looked at me for help, I made a face and forced him to take the lead.
Matson shrugged like he wasn’t bothered in the least. “Why not? It has pillows and everything.”
“It does sound nice,” Ryan said, nodding seriously as if he were considering it for the first time, and I had to stop myself from laughing out loud.
Matson leaned close to whisper in his ear, but I still heard him anyway. “And that way when I sneak in, I can sleep between both of you instead of just with Mama. Her hands are always ice cold, and yours are always hot.”
Ryan had always told me that my hands were made of ice, but he claimed to like it, placing them on any sore spots he had on his shoulders and back.
“Well, if your mom says it’s okay,” Ryan said, giving me a sly glance, “then I’ll start sleeping in there with her.”
Matson nodded. “She’ll say okay. She likes you.”
I cleared my throat, causing Matson to jump away from Ryan like he’d gotten caught stealing the last cookie. “Time for bed. Go brush your teeth, please.” I only had to ask once, and Matson practically skipped down the hall after he stopped to give me a hug.
“Guess I’m sleeping with you now, ice pack,” Ryan teased, and when I swatted at his arm, he grabbed my hand and pulled me hard against him. “Ice-pack angel? Angel ice pack?”
“Will you start the hashtag? I still like #CryinOverRyan the best.”
His lips brushed mine. “You would.”
Ryan was right. That particular hashtag started on social media after word got out that he had a girlfriend. A bigger person wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as I did, but apparently I liked the world knowing he was off the market.
Ryan had also been right about Derek’s father being sick. Damian Huntington passed away a few days after Derek had been killed, and the company ended up going to his cousin, just like Derek had feared. It was the first time in the history of the firm that it didn’t go to the Huntington heir, and I was actually grateful that the cycle had been broken. As far as I knew, no one from the company knew Matson even existed, and since I gave him my last name and Derek wasn’t listed on his birth certificate, there would be no reason for anyone to suspect he had a son.
• • •
I waited almost a full month after the accident to see if Mrs. Huntington would reach out to me after everything that happened. When she didn’t, I decided to be the bigger person. As much as I disliked her family, I knew she was grieving and had lost her whole world within the span of a few days. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through, or how alone she must have felt. She deserved to know she had a grandson.
I knew she still lived in the same house they’d lived in when Derek and I were in high school, so I dropped a condolence card in the mail to her, along with a recent school picture of Matson.
Mariana Huntington showed up on my doorstep the same day she got my card, expensively dressed, her shoulder-length brown hair perfectly styled, and tears in her eyes.
“Sofia, I had no idea. Derek and Damian said you were pregnant, but they told me you didn’t have the baby. They said they paid you off, and I never questioned them or thought about it again. I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t know?” I was bewildered how she couldn’t have known. It also made me incredibly sad that I’d wasted so much time hating her for being able to stay away from us for so long when it hadn’t even been true.
“No, I didn’t. Can I come in?” she asked as she wiped her eyes.
I held my front door open and allowed her inside before offering her some tea. We sat at my kitchen table and cried together over all the time we’d lost due to miscommunication.
She absolutely lost it when she learned what the men in her life had been up to behind her back. The poor woman had been completely left in the dark about the ugly inner workings of the Huntington men.
To be honest, I think she preferred it that way. Mrs. Huntington wasn’t stupid, but I think staying blissfully unaware of her family’s dirty dealings helped keep her sane and her conscience clear. She slept peacefully at night, and I couldn’t—no, I wouldn’t—blame her for that.
She left that day with the promise to keep in touch.
When I decided a few days later to tell Matson who she was, he was so excited.
“I’m going to have three grandmas? That’s so cool!”
My heart swelled at his reaction, especially the fact that he’d included Ryan’s mom as one of his grandmas already.
Ryan warned me that our moms had bonded while I was in the hospital, but I had no idea just how much. His mom accepted Matson and me like we were blood relatives, and my family did the same for Ryan. It never ceased to amaze me that family dynamics like this existed.
• • •
Three quick knocks sounded at my front door before the doorknob turned, alerting me to the fact that Jess and Claudia were here. They’d been stopping by without warning for days now, often enough that I’d learned to expect them.
“Did you miss us?” Jess asked as she walked in.
“It’s like I don’t know what to do without you two anymore,” I teased back before giving them each a hug.
These women were both so welcoming, accepting, and nice, I understood completely why Frank and Nick loved them. I felt like I’d been initiated into a secret club that revolved aroun
d the Fisher brothers, and I never wanted to be out of it.
“Aunt Jess?” Matson yelled from his room before he careened down the hall and into her arms, giving her a big hug as she swung him around.
Matson had a huge crush on her. “I like her yellow hair,” he would say every time she left, and would run to the kitchen table to draw a new picture of her. There were yellow-haired drawings all over my house.
“I’m starting to get a complex, little man,” Claudia whined, and Matson dove into her arms next.
I stared at them, grinning from ear to ear, wondering how in the world my life had changed so drastically in such a short time. Our family had grown so big, and yet I hadn’t realized we had such a small one before. I’d always thought that my heart and Matson’s were full, our lives fulfilled and our family complete, but having all this love and these wonderful people around us made me see just how much we’d been missing.
We were the luckiest people in Santa Monica, and I hoped that never changed.
My Future
Ryan
Eight months later
Today was Matson’s ninth birthday, and everyone was in our backyard eating before we headed to the bowling alley for his actual party. My parents, my brothers and their girlfriends, Sofia’s parents, her friend Sarin, Grant, and even Mariana Huntington were all sitting around the tables I’d set up, chatting like old friends. On days like this, I almost couldn’t believe this was our life. It seemed too good to be true—too easy, too fucking wonderful.
Sofia and Matson were my family now, my future, and I’d do anything to stay in their lives. I wasn’t ever leaving their sides again, which was why I insisted on moving in with them at the end of Matson’s school year.
Okay, insisted might be too strong a word, but I strongly suggested the idea, and both Sofia and Matson had enthusiastically agreed.
We went out for ice cream to celebrate that night. I wanted to puke after eating all that sugar, but I promised to punish myself at the gym the next day. We went out for ice cream again when the owners of Sofia’s rental house said they weren’t planning on moving back to the States, and sold us their house at a fraction of what it was worth. Clearly, I never learned my lesson on celebrating good news with ice cream.
I tried to pay the owners more money, considering that I could afford it with the success of the bar, but they wouldn’t have it. They said they didn’t need it, and told us to save it for all the other babies we planned on having in the future.
Sofia’s face had paled a little when she heard that, and mine had done the complete opposite. There was nothing I wanted more than to have a few dozen little Sofias and Ryans running around our yard, but I knew that no matter how much I wanted to knock her up, that would have to wait.
“Hey, loser,” Grant grumped as he came up next to me in the doorway. “Why are you over here? We’re all out there.”
“I was just watching,” I said with a smile I couldn’t erase if I’d tried.
Sofia happened to look over at that moment, and she looked so damn happy, it almost made my heart burst. Her smile was just for me, but I knew Grant was going to claim it was for him. I was in too good a mood to fight him over it.
“She’s your angel now,” he said, and I swung my head around at him in shock.
“Say what?” I cupped a hand around my ear and leaned toward him, not believing what I was hearing.
“You heard me, jackass. Plus, I might have a new angel.” He nodded toward Mariana Huntington, and I slapped him on the back.
“You dog. You sure move on quick.”
“She’s a nice lady,” he said. “Sure got a raw deal with that marriage of hers.”
I nodded because he was right. When Sofia had first told me about Derek’s mom, I was wary, distrustful, all my protective instincts flaring. Could she be trusted?
But after I met Mariana, all my fears disappeared. She was a good person, truly kindhearted. I had no idea how someone like her could have possibly raised someone as screwed up as Derek.
My admiration for her only grew when she told me she planned to pay for Matson’s college expenses, and anything else we needed help with, since Sofia had done everything on her own for so long. Mariana had told me first because she knew I’d have to talk Sofia into accepting any help of that magnitude.
And she was right.
At first, Sofia put up a fight, but I eventually got her to see it was Mariana’s way of apologizing, of trying to make amends in her own heart, not necessarily Sofia’s. Mariana had a lot of guilt she needed to work through, and this was part of her way of doing that.
Sofia made her way toward me and gave me a hug, wrapping her arms around my waist as she nuzzled her head against my chest.
“I love you,” I said against her hair.
She looked up at me, those hazel eyes shining. “I love you too.”
“Where were you headed?” I asked as she pulled out of my arms.
“To pee.” She laughed before hurrying away, and I swatted her ass.
Smiling, I looked around our yard at everyone who cared about us. Nick held on to Jess like she might run away at any moment, his fingers hooked through the belt loop on her shorts. He wasn’t entirely wrong to be worried—Matson had been trying to steal her away for months now. Did I mention that my house is filled with crayon drawings of Jess? They’re everywhere. I think I could wallpaper Matson’s room with them if he asked.
Frank and Claudia stood arm in arm, both wearing black shirts and dark jeans, which I knew they hadn’t planned. It was the family joke now how they always showed up in matching outfits without trying. They both claimed that when they got dressed, they usually picked out the same color shirts, and then they both refused to change. Nick was relentless in his teasing of them, but I thought it was sweet.
Grant currently had Mariana laughing hysterically at something he’d said, and I chuckled at the idea of him hitting on her. Maybe they’d be just what the other needed—friendship, companionship, or even love? I had no idea, but I was glad they found each other.
As for me, I planned to propose when the time was right. The ring I bought a couple of months ago was sitting in the safe at the bar, next to the one Nick had bought for Jess ages ago. I couldn’t wait to give Matson a little brother or sister.
Or five.
Or maybe twelve.
However many babies Sofia would let me put inside her belly, I planned on doing exactly that. I’d do it tomorrow if she let me. Hell, I’d do it right now.
I’d probably have to enlist Matson’s help on the baby front since Sofia seemed a little skittish. Having your first child all by yourself probably wasn’t the best memory for someone to have. But every day, I remembered how excited Matson got when he met my brothers that night at the hospital, and all I’d wanted since then was to give him siblings of his own.
Our future was crystal clear in my head, and waiting for it to start was sheer torture.
“I just want to start our life,” I complained to Sofia almost daily.
“It’s already started, babe,” she’d tell me every time. “We’re in it. This is our life. It’s begun.”
And I knew she was right, but it was the rest of it that I wanted— the wedding, the babies, being husband and wife. All the other things that I envisioned and planned for in the future, I wanted them right now.
No one said I was a patient man.
“Uh, Ryan?” Sofia said in a strained voice.
I spun around, and when I saw how pale she looked, I rushed to her side. “What’s the matter? Are you sick? You don’t look okay.”
She shoved a white stick at me, and I stared down at it. Pregnant showed in the tiny oval screen.
My breath left my body as my heart thumped. All rational thoughts exited my head before coming back. I picked her up and swung her around, planting kisses all over her face before gently placing her back down.
“You’re happy?” she asked, sounding absolutely terrified.
&
nbsp; “Happy? I’m ecstatic, angel!”
“Really?”
“Hell yes! If I would’ve known you could get pregnant despite your birth control, I would’ve tried a lot harder.”
Sofia swatted at me, her worry flitting away, leaving a huge smile on her face.
I guessed I wouldn’t have to wait for our future to begin, after all. Sofia was right . . . we were in it. It was happening. And it was happening exactly how I wanted it to.
Right now.
The End
Thank you so much for reading Ryan and Sofia’s story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Have you met the rest of the Fisher brothers? Make sure you read Nick’s story, No Bad Days, and Frank’s, Guy Hater.
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Author’s Note
This story was quite personal to me. I say that every time, but I’ve never written about a single mom before. Which is crazy because I am one, and I always write what I know. Maybe I avoided it for some reason until now, maybe I wasn’t ready to go there . . . and yet here we are.
Writing Sofia’s story was as cathartic as it was painful. I really do hope you loved it. I hope I gave you a little insight into the inner workings of a mom’s heart and mind—not just a single mom, but moms in general. I hope I made you proud.
Thank you so much for reading my books, for giving them a chance to touch your heart . . . and I hope they do. If you’d be so kind as to leave a review before you head on to your next book adventure, I’d really appreciate it.
Thank you again.
Acknowledgments
My books don’t happen by themselves. Michelle Warren makes my covers beautiful so you want to buy the books. Pam Berehulke edits my books, prettying up my words so you want to read them. And my beta readers Krista Arnold and Emma Mack make the story better, so you’ll hopefully love it as much as they did. Thank you all so much for helping me tell Ryan’s. I appreciate you. : )
