by Rose, Ranae
“It did. The bed you chose is wonderful. We both slept well.” Ryan had woken once from nightmares, but given the fact that waking several times a night wasn’t unusual, the night hadn’t been a bad one.
Cecilia smiled. “I have the same sort of mattress at home for myself. It’s the most comfortable one I’ve ever owned.”
They spoke a little longer about the bed, Cecilia rattling off something about the thread count of the sheets and the towels she’d chosen for the bathroom. She’d picked out everything that was in the apartment herself. She’d started shopping the day Ryan had called and said he wanted to return to New York. As she spoke about her selections and why’d she’d made them, it was hard to suspect her of any other motivation than wanting her son to be comfortable. Which was nice, even if the gifts had actually made him uncomfortable.
The driver took them to a café that was more laid back than Ally would have guessed their destination would be. The décor was chic and even the name was stylish, but the atmosphere inside was a combination of relaxed and fashionable. Ally didn’t even feel out of place in the outfit she’d dug out of a moving box just an hour ago – a welcome surprise.
“I discovered this place a few weeks ago,” Cecilia said. “I thought it seemed like a good place to have lunch with a friend.”
The smile she flashed over the top of her menu had Ally’s stomach fluttering. Cecilia seemed nice – nicer than she’d expected. Though she felt a little ashamed at the thought, Ally was sure that Cecilia’s lunch invitation had come with an ulterior motive, and couldn’t help but wonder if it was something that would make her regret having come to the stylish little café with her.
They didn’t progress past small talk until they’d already started on their lunches. Unlike her husband, Cecilia seemed to take a gradual approach to conversation. But as she laid down her spoon beside her soup bowl after only two bites, there was no question that something was on her mind.
“Look, Ally,” Cecilia said. “I asked you to have lunch with me because I’d like to get to know you better, but also because there’s something I’m hoping you’ll help me with.”
Ally sat frozen with her own spoon gripped in one hand. “What is it?”
Cecilia glanced down at her virtually untouched meal, then back up at Ally. Her eyes really were a lot like her son’s, though the table put too much distance between them for Ally to determine whether they had the golden-orange rings that Ryan’s did. “I want to get to know Ryan again. I – I realize that he’s changed since he last lived in New York. But he’s still my son, and I don’t want him to keep me at an arm’s length now that he’s back.”
Ally met Cecilia’s blue-eyed stare with what was hopefully a neutral expression. What the heck was she supposed to say to that? Gee, maybe you could go back in time and not reject your own son for becoming a marine instead of a corporate clone of his father? Their lack of support had carved trenches of mistrust that would be very, very hard to fill again.
Not for the first time, Ally tried to imagine Ryan in Afghanistan, his name never coming up at mail call, the absence of envelopes from home a constant reminder of the fact that besides the company of his fellow marines, he was alone not only actually, but in spirit.
When she and Ryan had visited his friend in Quantico, he’d shown her pictures from their deployment. Seeing Ryan in his uniform had made his time there seem more real – something she could imagine more vividly, now that she’d seen him uniformed and armed against a desert background. The pictures had broken her heart even before Ryan’s friend had pointed out a marine in the pictures who’d been killed in the IED blast that had wounded Ryan.
“I thought you could help by telling me how he’s changed,” Cecilia continued. “Like yesterday, when he left early. I don’t know if it was something we said, or…” She kept her wide blue eyes trained on Ally. “I want to know how he’s different from how he was before. Maybe then we can avoid days like yesterday.” Her voice went up an octave or two, as if she was already filled with confidence that her plan would work if Ally would just surrender the information that would make old Ryan and new Ryan fit together like a stubborn puzzle finally completed.
Ally wasn’t about to try to speak on Ryan’s behalf. Nor would she spill his secrets, the memories and feelings he’d shared with her, information she guarded as carefully as she knew he’d guard the things she’d confessed to him.
“We left yesterday because he wasn’t feeling well. He gets severe migraines sometimes, and he’d left his medication at home. When one starts coming on, he has to take something as quickly as possible.” She didn’t mention the explosion, or the TBI that was at the root of Ryan’s migraines. That information was his to share when he saw fit.
“Oh.” Cecilia frowned as she gripped her cloth napkin, dabbing at an invisible stain at the corner of her mouth. “So it wasn’t something we said. I thought maybe he was upset by his father pressuring him to discuss work.”
Memories of Cecilia’s comments on Ryan’s military experience and job choice rose instantly to the surface of Ally’s mind. She knew Ryan well enough to know that they’d been more irritating than his father’s domineering attitude. “I know he’s eager to get started at Greene & Jacobs now that he’s back in New York. In fact, I think he’d prefer to talk about that over the work he’s done in the past.” Ally took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of tomato and spices that rose from her soup bowl. “Specifically, his time in the military.”
Cecilia hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Of course. What else can you tell me – how has he changed, exactly?”
“I didn’t know him before. By the time we met, he’d already been discharged from the Marine Corps.”
“Oh.” Cecilia’s eyes widened, lending her a look of genuine surprise. “I assumed that you two had been together for longer than that.”
“No.” Apparently, Ryan’s parents really hadn’t had much communication with him after he’d enlisted. A familiar pang of sadness struck Ally’s heart as the waitress approached and asked her and Cecelia if they’d like more to drink.
Cecilia was less interrogative after that. Their conversation slipped back into the realm of small talk as they finished their meals. By the time their bowls and plates were empty, Ally’s nerves were humming with a distinct feeling of relief. The end of their lunchtime meeting felt like the end of some sort of trial. What would Ryan think when she told him about her meeting with his mother?
When Cecilia dug into her purse for her check book, she pulled out a little notepad too and wrote something down before tearing off the small leaf of paper. “Here. A friend of mine suffers from migraines, too. She sees this acupuncturist and swears that it helps like nothing else. Ryan should give it a try.”
Ally took the note and glanced down at the business name neatly printed in black ink. Ryan’s parents might be out of touch with who he was and what he’d been through, but his mother wasn’t quite the woman Ally had imagined. If she had ever been rigidly opinionated and unwilling to accept her son as anyone other than the person she’d wanted him to be, she seemed to have lost those inclinations.
Maybe the past few years had changed her, too. By all indications she was determined to forge a new connection, even if her methods were a little clumsy. And really, that was all Ally could have hoped for. Ryan’s efforts to reintegrate with his family were bound to go more smoothly if they were trying, too.
* * * * *
“There are a lot of things I want to show you, a lot of places I want to take you.” Ryan pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and set them on the counter. He’d picked up a few bags of groceries on his way home from his lunchtime meeting with his father. “All the tourist-y sights you haven’t seen yet, my favorite places and even my old training gym. But for tonight, I thought we could stay in and have our first meal together in our new home.”
“That sounds great.” Ally leaned on the kitchen table as she sat in one of its seats, surprised
at how comfortable the decorative cushions Cecilia had chosen made the vintage-style wood-backed chairs. A night in with Ryan sounded perfect, especially since they’d spent most of the day so far apart from each other.
“I’ll cook,” he said, rummaging for something else in the fridge.
“I take it that means we’ll be having breakfast for dinner?”
He rose holding a bag of tomatoes. “Of course. It’s either omelets or some other meal burnt beyond recognition. So I’ll be playing it safe, but don’t worry – I bought bacon.”
“Well, that makes everything all right,” she teased as her stomach gave a low growl. Actually, omelets and bacon sounded just about perfect. It had been hours since she’d had lunch with Cecilia.
She’d come directly home after the meal, but Ryan had been out with his father – and apparently grocery shopping – up until about forty-five minutes ago, putting him home at about the same time the sky had begun to succumb to dusk. Beyond the kitchen window, the city was lit by a combination of natural and artificial light, the former slowly giving way to the latter.
She’d missed him. Just a few hours apart, and she’d ached to see him. Even watching him cut open the bacon package and lower strips into a frying pan sparked a distinct happiness inside her, and not just because she was hungry.
She’d already told him about her meeting with his mother. He hadn’t seemed very surprised. When she’d given him the name of the acupuncture place, he’d agreed to give it a try. Overall, the lunch and its results had been better than expected.
“Can I help?” Ally asked when the bacon began to sizzle. He was busy chopping ingredients for the omelets, and though he’d become pretty good at completing tasks two-handedly despite his cast, there was no reason for her to just sit and watch – though the view of him standing with his back to her in jeans and a snug-fitting t-shirt certainly wasn’t bad.
“You can dice this tomato if you really want to.”
As soon as she stepped up to the counter, he stepped back, wiping his hands on the dish towel hanging from the oven and disappearing without a word.
He didn’t go far. There was a grocery bag still on the counter, one that he began to dig through.
“A candlelit dinner?” she asked.
He shot her a grin as he sat two candles on the table and lit them with a plastic lighter. “Yeah.”
When they were done cooking, he dimmed the lights in the kitchen, leaving the candles as the room’s primary source of illumination. The sky had darkened as they’d cooked, turning a deep purple-grey. In contrast, the warm, flickering light radiating from the center of the table painted their surroundings in hues of gold and orange.
In the candlelight, those same colors were highlighted in Ryan’s eyes, the brilliant rings around his irises unmissable as he met her gaze. The last time she’d looked closely at them, she’d been lying in her hospital bed. Her heart wrenched as she remembered what they’d reminded her of then and all the things she’d feared they’d lose the chance to experience.
“Ally.” He reached out and gripped her good hand with his own.
The dinner they’d just prepared waited on the counter. She could smell it, but only had eyes for Ryan.
“Before we eat, there’s something I want to tell you. And something I want to ask you.”
Her heart skipped a beat before her lips could move. “What is it?”
“I love you in a way I could never love anyone else. A part of me knew that the first time I laid eyes on you, and I knew it for sure the first time I ate breakfast with you. I want to spend every night with you and eat breakfast with you every morning for the rest of my life.”
Its moment of weakness forgotten, her heart forged ahead, beating rapidly as if to make up for lost time.
“When we were at the hospital and you pretended to be my fiancée, I couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like if that were true. Thinking about it hurt because I wanted it so bad, even though I thought you deserved someone better than me. But if you think I can make you happy, I know I can. Ally…” He dipped a hand into one pocket of his jeans. “Will you marry me?”
He held something small and bright aloft. In the candlelight, the gold of the ring he showed her absolutely shone. And the diamond… It sparkled softly, a single stone beautifully cut and set against a simple golden band.
All sorts of emotions roared through her, setting off an avalanche of shocked happiness that buried her racing heart. “Yes.”
He took her left hand as carefully as if it were made of glass and raised it. “I know your fingers have been a little swollen since the shooting.” He gently caressed the digits, paying special attention to her ring finger. “I figured the display ring was probably a size or two larger than you’d normally need. We can have it sized down later, when your arm is fully healed.”
“Okay.” Her voice came out breathy but happy sounding.
He slid the ring onto her finger.
He was right – the ring was bigger than she would have needed before the shooting. As it was, it fit nicely, snug enough that it wouldn’t slide off but with enough wriggle-room that she didn’t fear it becoming stuck.
“It’s beautiful. When…” The fact that he’d been carrying around an engagement ring in his pocket had left her breathless. When and where had he gotten it – how long had he been planning this?
“I got it while I was out this afternoon. I wanted to ask you before, but I couldn’t – not in the aftermath of the shooting. So I decided to wait until we got here. I figured this could be a part of our fresh start.”
“The ring is beautiful.” If he hadn’t been so much more tempting to look at, she wouldn’t have been able to tear her gaze from the piece of jewelry glittering on her hand. Less because it was pretty and expensive looking and more because of what it meant. When she really thought about it, she couldn’t breathe right. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her close and capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.
She parted her lips, yielding to his tongue and welcoming him inside as her taste buds tingled with his familiar flavor. His body was pressed against hers, harder than the band of gold encircling her left ring finger. She leaned into him, her breasts aching as they were compressed against his chest, her heart beating below to the rhythm of his. When he slid his hand lower, over the curve of her hip and into the heated space between her thighs, she knew – by the time they got around to dinner, the candles would still be burning but the food would be cold.
Epilogue
Ally patted her face dry with a fresh towel, her hips pressing against the edge of the sink. She jumped a little when a set of hands slipped over her sides and something firm met the small of her back. Quickly lowering the towel, she looked up and caught Ryan’s eye in the mirror.
Unlike her, he was fully dressed already, looking better than any man had a right to in a tailored black suit. He rocked into her from behind, letting her feel the way a decidedly unprofessional hardness strained the front of his pants. “Hey angel,” he said, his lips curling in a faint smile as they brushed the shell of her ear, tickling. “I can see your halo.”
She frowned and turned the water on, splashing her hands in its flow before pressing them to the sides of her head and hastily smoothing down her hair. The rebellious mane – or halo, as Ryan was so fond of calling it – of frizz that surrounded her skull like a fuzzy aura refused to go down without the aid of some serious styling products. “Not fair,” she said. “You hogged the bathroom for half an hour and now you tease me when I’ve only been in here for a minute.”
“I’m not teasing,” he insisted. “I like your hair when it’s like this.”
She slicked another handful of water onto her head anyway. “Why are you all dressed and ready anyway?” He was at least half an hour ahead of schedule.
“I thought we could stop somewhere on the way to work and get breakfast together
.”
“Okay. I’ll have to hurry, but I think we can make it.”
He rocked his hips again, pressing the hard rod of his erection against the small of her back.
A frisson raced down her spine, sending color creeping across her cheeks as every muscle in her core tightened. “I’m not going to get anything done if you keep doing that.” Caught between his body and the sink, she was practically his prisoner. Not that it didn’t feel good, but it wasn’t exactly conductive to getting ready for work.
“It doesn’t have to be a sit down breakfast.” He deliberately let his lips tickle her ear, almost biting the edge of it as he spoke. “We could take our time here and pick something up along the way.”
Ally’s heart hammered as if to say yes, yes, yes. “There’s that bagel place just down the street.”
“I was thinking the same thing. We could eat in the mustang. Get to work just before nine and no one would be any the wiser.” He slipped a hand between her thighs, running his fingertips over the thin fabric of her panties.
God, she could feel his body heat through the cotton and she’d bet a paycheck that he could feel her dampness, too. “Okay,” she breathed, abandoning her attempts to tame her hair, at least for now.
Two or three seconds later, her panties were around her ankles. Ryan had regained almost all the mobility in the wrist he’d broken, a fact he liked to take advantage of at moments like that. His right hand was still a little pale from being inside a cast for so long and stood out in stark contrast to his black suit sleeve.
He gripped one of her breasts, squeezing and breathing hard against her ear and neck. Her hair was still secured in a knot, leaving her neck bare and exposed to him.
Her pussy seized up when a distinct sound echoed off the tiled bathroom walls – the noise of a zipper being pulled down.
“Your pants will get dirty,” she warned as he rubbed the naked head of his cock against her ass. No way would he be able to wear the black pants to work if he fucked her while wearing them, the zipper parted to free his erection.
