by K. Street
It had never been like this.
Liquid pooled in the corners of her brown irises telling me everything I needed to know.
It had never been like this for her either.
My fingers tightened around hers.
In and out.
I love you.
In and out.
A teardrop escaped.
Salty wetness met my lips as I kissed it away.
I love you.
In and out.
I wanted to stay here forever, buried deep inside her. But I wasn’t going to last much longer.
I slightly shifted our bodies and withdrew my hand from hers, slipping it between us.
“Keep your eyes on mine, sweetheart.”
I pressed the pad of my thumb to her swollen clit and moved it in a circular motion as I picked up the pace.
“Ryder.” The sound of my name reverberated off the walls.
She shattered apart beneath me.
I love you.
Seconds later, I spilled inside her.
I wasn’t sure how long we lay there, tangled up in each other. Our bodies glistening with sweat and the silky strands of her hair tickling my shoulder.
Quiet.
Lost in the connection we shared.
Neither of us brave enough to put the enormity of what had just happened into words.
Eventually, I disentangled my limbs from hers. “I’ll be right back.”
I strode into the bathroom and ran a washcloth under warm water, and then I returned to her side. I planted a kiss on her hip bone before gingerly cleaning between her legs and tossing the rag across the room into the hamper.
“Ryder?”
I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Yeah, baby?”
“Do you smell that? It smells like something is burning.”
“Shit!”
“The potatoes!” we both shouted at the same time.
Twenty-Three
Presley
“Girl! It was a mess. Ryder rounded the corner and tripped over the dog. Turtle was barking his head off. Ryder—still naked, by the way—was on the floor, clutching his balls. And there I was, also in my naked glory, trying to figure out who or what to take care of first when the smoke alarm started blaring.”
I stared at my phone screen, watching my best friend’s body shake with unrestrained laughter. It was pretty damn funny, but when it’d happened three days ago … not so much.
“I made a mad dash for the oven, yanked open the door, and ended up with a face full of smoke. So, of course, my vision went blurry, and my eyes burned like the devil’s ass because the blast of heat practically suctioned my contacts to my eyeballs.”
Layla laughed so hard that tears streamed down her cheeks.
“At that point, I was blinking like crazy while blindly swatting the counter for the oven mitt. Which I ended up knocking to the floor. When I bent to pick it up, I burned my vag on the edge of the oven door.”
“What?! Oh my God.” She squealed at a decibel I was certain only dogs could hear. Then, she waved her hand in front of her face like a windshield wiper blade, as though fanning herself might help her catch her breath.
Watching her made me giggle. “Are you finished?”
She shook her head and pressed a hand against her chest, trying to suck air into her lungs.
I shifted against the plethora of pillows on my bed, pretending to be annoyed. “I’m glad you find my life so amusing, Lay, truly.”
“O-okay. Okay. I’m—” She lost it again.
“Done? Clearly, you aren’t.”
She cackled. “I-I’m s-sorry. It’s just that shit like this only happens to you.”
I couldn’t even be mad because she was right. I gave her a few minutes to calm down.
“Okay”—she wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands—“continue.”
“Ryder hauled himself off the floor, jerked the alarm off the wall, and ripped the batteries out. Then, we ordered pizza and binged Netflix.”
Layla opened her mouth, but I cut her off, “Before you ask, the only chill happening was from the bag of frozen peas Ryder had on his package.”
“Aww. Poor spud. He busted his tater tots.”
I laughed at her ridiculousness while I stretched for my tumbler of ice water on my bedside table. I brought the straw to my lips and sucked.
“How’s your vagina?”
Water spewed from my mouth. “What?”
“You know, your vajayjay? Dick’s Drive-In. Meat garage. Beaver. Penis flytrap—”
“Oh my God. Stop.”
“Pres, you’re my best friend. I wouldn’t just ask anyone about the state of their girlie parts. If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you all about my hemorrhoid. Do you know how hard it is to put cream in places you can’t see? I damn near turned myself into a contortionist. Thought I was going to need a chiropractor.”
I doubled over, holding my sides, and laughed so hard that I needed to use the restroom. I clutched my phone, ran to the bathroom, and set it on the counter.
“Why am I staring at your ceiling?”
“One sec.” I pulled down my shorts and panties and then sat to relieve myself.
“What’s that tinkling sound? Are you peeing?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.” I finished up and washed my hands before picking up my phone again.
We talked for another twenty minutes, and Layla caught me up on her life.
“So, are you going to have a scar on your hoo-ha?”
I assured her the burn hadn’t been bad enough to scar. Not that it would have mattered since it was just above my hairline and wouldn’t be noticeable at all, especially if I channeled the 1970s. I disconnected before she had the chance to serenade me with “Welcome to the Jungle.”
Days turned to weeks. Soon, school had been in session for well over two months, and Halloween was right around the corner.
With each day that passed, I fell more in love with Ryder. While I was certain he felt the same way, neither one of us had actually said the words.
Still, I was content.
I loved my life and the people in it. I loved my job. Because to me, it was so much more. Teaching little kids, watching their faces when they finally succeeded at a task they’d been struggling with … it was everything.
Last time I’d spoken to my mother—when I actually refrained from sending her to voice mail—she had been almost pleasant. She’d just won a huge case, and my dad was up for some medical award. My parents still didn’t know about Ryder. I planned to tell them at some point, but right now, my life was damn near perfect, and I didn’t want to rock the boat.
Which was the reason I ignored that niggling feeling in my gut.
Twenty-Four
Presley
A knock sounded on the door just as I sat on the couch to put on my boots.
“Trick or treat,” the small voice I knew well called out from the other side of the wood.
“Just a sec,” I hollered back.
After I slipped on the black leather combat boots, I grabbed the goody bag I had put together for Zeke off the coffee table and went to open the door.
The boys stood on my porch, wearing matching flight suits and aviator sunglasses.
Ryder looked so damn sexy, and Zeke was too adorable for words.
“Here, kiddo.” I held out the gift sack.
Zeke peeked inside, his eyes round as saucers. “Candy. Go Fish. Mini Legos! Wow. Thank you, Presley.” He squeezed me tight.
“You’re welcome.” I bent and hugged him back. “There’s something inside for Turtle too. So, make sure you don’t eat the cookie shaped like a paw print.”
“I won’t.”
“Where’s my goody bag?” Ryder asked.
I lifted my shoulders and wrinkled my nose. “Would you settle for a kiss?”
“For now.” His suggestive tone told me exactly what he was thinking. “I’m digging the braids, baby.”
He lightly
gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought my mouth to his.
What started out as sweet and tender turned heated in a matter of seconds.
“Ugh,” Zeke groaned.
We broke apart and glanced at Zeke, who was staring at the sky.
“Why do you always try to eat Presley’s face?”
I stifled a giggle while Ryder changed the subject.
He clapped his palms together. “Who’s ready for trick-or-treating?”
“Me,” Zeke yelled, entirely too loud.
I went over to the couch and grabbed my bag, and then I darted back to the door. “Me.”
After I locked the front door, we moved toward Ryder’s truck.
Zeke opened his mouth, stretched his top lip over his teeth, and scratched under his nose. “This moo-stash is itchy.”
“Do you want to shave it off?” I asked him.
“No, silly. I can’t shave it. It’s not real.”
“Oh. Well, it looks very natural. Who are you supposed to be?”
Ryder opened the passenger-side doors.
Zeke pointed to his brother. “Him is Maverick, and I’m Goose. His chicken man.”
Ryder and I busted out laughing.
“You mean, his wingman?” I corrected.
The little boy smacked himself in the forehead. “I forgot.”
“All right, Goose”—Ryder gestured to the booster seat—“up you go.”
Zeke clambered into the truck, clutching his goody bag, and sat in his seat. He scrunched his nose while taking in my appearance. “Why does your hair look like that? You need a brush.”
I twirled around in my lime-green pinafore dress, which I’d paired with a bright yellow T-shirt along with green-and-orange striped knee-high socks. “I’m Pippi Longstocking.”
“Who’s that?”
“Pippi is a character from a storybook. She’s a mischievous little girl who gets in all sorts of trouble.” I plucked the aviators from his face and hooked them in the collar of his jumpsuit.
“Can you read me that story?”
“Sure.”
“Not right now though. ’Cause we are going trick-or-treating with Brucey.”
“That’s right. They’re meeting us at Silver Shores.” Ryder made sure Zeke’s seat belt was secure, and then he tugged one of my braids. “Let’s go, Pippi.”
I climbed inside the cab and buckled up. Ryder gave me a peck on the lips before closing my door and walking around to the driver’s side. He slid behind the wheel, fastened his seat belt, and backed out of my driveway.
Once we got out of our neighborhood and onto the main road, Ryder reached across the console and took my hand.
“I’ve missed you,” he quietly said.
I gave him a teasing grin. “It’s only been a few days.”
“Five days, Pres. Five exceptionally long days.”
“Aww. You did miss me.” I inched closer. “And later, you can show me just how much.”
“You can count on it.”
Lately, both our schedules had been packed. He had been busy with his contracted pieces for the new children’s library and a few smaller commissioned orders as well. Somehow, I had gotten roped into helping organize the school’s winter carnival and being part of the Parent-Teacher Organization. Life was a little chaotic, to say the least.
“We’re here,” Zeke announced as we pulled into the Silver Shores community.
We parked in a spot in front of Harriett’s condo and got out of the truck. Zeke ran up the sidewalk and hugged his grandma.
“Mimi, where is your costume? I thought you was going trick-or-treating with us.”
“I am, sweetheart. This is my costume.”
Zeke eyed her up and down. “But you always look like that.”
Mimi giggled. “I know. I’m going as an old woman.”
I kissed Papa B on the cheek.
“Well, well, look at you, Princess Pea. Looks like you stuck your finger in a light socket.” He studied me more closely. “Reminds me of that little girl from the stories I used to read to you when you were no bigger than him.” He pointed to Zeke.
“I remember,” I told him. “I was reading the story of Pippi Longstocking to my class when the idea for the costume hit me.”
After Harriett hugged Ryder, she pulled me into an embrace and patted my back, and then she held me at arm’s length. “You are too precious. Now, how on earth did you get your hair to do that?”
“Pipe cleaners, bobby pins, and endless YouTube videos.”
“Well, it looks just darling.”
“They’re here. They’re here,” Zeke shouted while he jumped up and down.
Everyone’s eyes shifted to the parking lot, where the Clynes family had just pulled in.
After hugs and handshakes were exchanged, Kendall passed each little boy a flashlight and went over the ground rules. “Only knock on the doors if the porch light is on. Stay together, use your manners, and remember—”
“You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit,” Brucey interjected.
“Exactly. Are we ready?” Kendall asked them.
The boys squealed in delight.
Our group dispersed with Ryder and Carter leading the pack, the little boys skipping along behind them. Kendall and I followed Brucey and Zeke while Harriett and Papa B brought up the rear.
“How are you?” Kendall asked from beside me. “Nice costume, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I gestured to hers. “You guys too. I love the Star Wars theme.”
Kendall and Carter had dressed up as Princess Leia and Han Solo, respectively, while Brucey was R2-D2.
“So, tell me”—she bumped my shoulder—“how are things?”
My smile took up my whole face. “Amazing.”
Zeke pointed and shouted, “There. There.”
Ryder and Carter escorted the boys up the walkway.
When they were out of earshot, Kendall spoke again, “You’re in love with him.”
I glanced behind me, not wanting Harriett or my grandfather to overhear our conversation, but the two of them were lost in their own.
“Is it that obvious?”
The look on Kendall’s face told me it was.
“Have you told him?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you waiting on him to say it first?”
I considered her question. “No. I don’t think it’s that. I’m just a little …” I trailed off, trying to find the word.
“Terrified?” Kendall supplied.
I nodded.
“That’s how you know it’s the real thing.”
“I’ll just have to take your word for it.”
“He loves you too, you know.”
I did know. Not because he’d said it, but the day we’d had our first fight, when we’d made up … that hadn’t been just make-up sex. It was different. Otherworldly.
It was more.
I had always found the term making love cringeworthy, but I couldn’t think of a better way to describe it.
My curiosity got the best of me. “How do you know?”
We lagged behind the boys as they moved on to the next lit doorway. I glanced back every now and then to make sure Harriett and Papa B were keeping up.
“I’ve known Ryder for a long time. I’m sure you’re well aware that he was a bit of a player.”
“You could say that.”
“Carter was too.” She shook her head, as though she were trying to rid herself of an unwanted memory. “Ryder has been through a lot. He’s never allowed a woman to get too close. Especially to Zeke. But here you are, and that means something.”
“I know.”
“Just be careful with his heart.”
“I will,” I promised and hoped like hell he’d be careful with mine.
“Did the PTO settle on a theme for the winter carnival?” Kendall asked, changing the subject. “I would have been there, but I had errands to run after I picked up Brucey from school,
and by the time I got home, the last thing I wanted to do was go back out. I figured you could fill me in.”
“Frozen Wonderland was selected as the winning theme. One of the dads wants to set up an outdoor ice rink.”
Kendall lifted her brows. “Um, he is aware we live in South Florida, right?”
I laughed. “He owns a company that sells outdoor ice rink kits. I had no idea that was even a thing. I’m not sure of the logistics of how it works, but it would bring in a lot of money. Now, we just need to write up the proposal and get the school board to sign off on it.”
“Just think of all the new books we could add to the library.”
Kendall and I continued to chat about the carnival. Since I was the volunteer coordinator for the event, I roped her into doing a thirty-minute rotation for ticket sales, not that it took a whole lot of convincing.
When we reached the end of the row of condos, the boys waited under a lamppost at the corner of the sidewalk for us to catch up.
Zeke and Brucey ran toward us.
“Presley! Look.” He held open his half-full pillowcase.
“Wow, kiddo,” I said, checking out his loot.
Brucey held open his bag after he showed his mom. “Look at mine.”
“That’s a whole lot of candy, boys,” I told the both of them before standing next to Ryder.
“All right, kids, I’m heading back to make sure all the snacks are ready for when you get finished,” Harriett told our group.
Ryder looked at me. “Do you mind hanging with Zeke while I walk Mimi back?”
“Of course not.”
Papa B clapped Ryder on the shoulder. “No need for that, my dear boy. I’ll escort Harriett home.”
Zeke and Ryder’s grandmother beamed. “That sounds lovely. Thank you, Ben.”
The two of them linked arms and strode back in the direction we had come.
Kendall flashed heart eyes. “Someone is certainly smitten.”
Carter put one arm over my shoulders and the other arm over Ryder’s. “Looks like you two might be family.” He chuckled.
Ryder playfully shoved Carter. “Whatever, man.”
“Can we go trick-or-treat some more?” Brucey jumped up and down.
“Yeah. Can we?” Zeke joined in.
