“I can do it.”
“I know you can, but it’s my job to help you out of the car.”
“Ryker, I can open my own door and don’t need your help.”
He leaned towards me, over the console, his eyes staring into mine. “Humor me, okay?”
Something was working behind his eyes, something I didn’t quite get but was intense enough to make me back off. “Okay,” I whispered, my eyes dropping to his mouth located only inches from mine. Close enough I felt his breath on my skin as his lips shifted into a soft, warm smile. Causing the swarming butterflies to start a complicated acrobatic routine that left me shaking.
And I couldn’t look away as he exited the car, rounded the hood and opened my door, his smile warming me from the inside out. He held out his hand and without thinking, I took it as he helped me out of the tall vehicle. He’d used that old-fashioned gesture before, and at that moment I was grateful for it.
The sound of a screen door slamming interrupted the moment and Ryker turned to the porch where an older, beautiful woman stood. She was on the shorter side and was carrying a few extra pounds but just from the way she held herself, I could tell she was a force to be reckoned with; that she was the one in-charge and expected to be obeyed without question.
Or maybe it was her commanding tone as she let loose with a paragraph or so of Spanish given so fast, one word bled into the next. Words which seemed to hit Ryker like thrown pebbles, making him flinch. As soon as she paused for breath, he took the opportunity and, steering me up the flower-bordered walkway, he began the introductions.
“Mama, this is Phoebe Marquette.” His hand on my lower back was a heated brand, searing me and scattering my focus. “Phoebe, this is my mother.”
I minded my feet on the four large concrete steps before coming to stand before the woman who was even shorter than I expected. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Santiago-Adams,” I managed to mumble, holding out my hand only hoping she didn’t notice how it trembled.
“Mucho gusto,” she murmured in a softer tone, placing her palm against mine while holding my eyes in a measuring gaze. “Thank you for coming.”
As graciousness went, Ryker’s mom was a star because there had been nothing in their conversation I’d overheard to warn her he was bringing someone with him, but she didn’t seem upset to have an uninvited, surprise guest. Turning to look up at her son, she narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together but she held the expression only for the briefest moment before turning back to me.
“Dinner is almost ready,” she announced with a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “Ryker get the door and introduce your guest to your brothers.” With a touch to my arm, she guided me into the house as Ryker held the door open, his grin more along the lines of apologetic than humorous.
The front door led straight into the living room furnished in lots of leather and wood. The leather portions were a large burnished couch and matching loveseat; the wood, in the end tables and massive square coffee table sitting right in the middle of the room (a placement I’d never be able to have, since I knew I’d forget to circumnavigate it often, banging my shins to hell). To break up all the brown, aqua and a pale gold was used in throw pillows, afghans and lampshades with what appeared to be a ton of framed photos on the walls—bringing all the colors of the room into play to create a cohesive, cozy whole.
Ryker’s hand again moved to my lower back and urged me further into the room to stand next to the loveseat. “This is my brother, Cruz.”
“Hello.” I moved to offer my hand in greeting but when I glanced at Ryker’s brother, I immediately dropped it back to my side. Because the handsome, large, impeccably dressed man coldly looked me over from toes to hair and back down again with a scowl that only grew deeper the longer he looked. “I’m Phoebe.”
“Nice to meet you,” Cruz breathed in an completely flat undertone before spearing Ryker with a glare. “Didn’t waste no fucking time, did you, asshole? Six months on the outside and you’re bringing a chick to the family table?”
I took a step backward at the venom in the man’s voice; not understanding the meaning behind his words, only to stop as Ryker’s hand slid from my back to my waist. Confused at Cruz’s undeserved rudeness, I looked up at Ryker only to find him smiling and waggling his eyebrows at his brother. “And she’s gorgeous too, unlike the skanks you used to date.”
Shooting to his feet, Cruz snagged his beer and walked the long way around the coffee table, avoiding where I and Ryker stood, not sparing us another glance.
“The pleasure was mine, Cruz,” I called softly as I tried to determine why he was being such an ass. Yet I knew he heard me (and my subtle social correction) by the way his feet stuttered, but he didn’t turn around or acknowledge my words in any way.
“He’s just a jealous dick, baby,” Ryker whispered, still holding me close to his side, his hand on my waist and his mouth so close to my ear my hair moved. “Ignore him.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but I was saved from answering as another tall, broad and gorgeous man entered the living room from the hallway, talking a mile a minute into the cellphone he had pressed to his ear. He was so intent on his conversation, I don’t think he saw us at first which gave me time to give him the once over. You could totally tell the three were brothers by their bone structure, because the chiseled cheekbones and firm, square jaws were identical. And all, it must be said, were totally too hot for their own good.
“Max? This is Phoebe.” Ryker didn’t wait for his brother to end his call but it didn’t seem to matter because Max turned to us, his face registering surprise before he gave me an up and down perusal (that lingered on my breasts and hips) before nodding my direction.
I took his cue and gave a little wave before Max turned and walked back down the hall, never interrupting his phone call.
“Sorry,” Ryker breathed into my ear just as Cruz came back into the room. Pausing at the arched doorway, Cruz’s eyes again slid over me only this time I couldn’t ignore the derision in his gaze. But then when I put myself in his shoes, I totally got it. I was a stranger his youngest brother brought into his mother’s home unannounced. One currently pressed against said brother, who had his chin on my shoulder and half of my body pressed against him, my back to his front and both of his arms looped around my waist.
Even I was surprised to find the fingers of one of my hands had somehow, and at sometime, found Ryker’s as if holding him in place as my other palm clutched my purse strap. To anyone not in the know, I’m sure we looked like we were cuddling.
And I had to admit, with the way he was bent, curled into me; it felt like Ryker was cuddling (something I’d totally be into if not for it happening with, like, an audience of his family).
But the fact was, I knew Cruz was absolutely not happy with me from the moment I walked in the door, much less with the current state of play which more than announced I was involved in with his baby brother.
“Ma says to wash up,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “We eat in five.”
Ryker half-turned and removed his arms before guiding me to the hall. “Lemme show you where the bathroom is.”
After washing up and relinquishing the restroom to Ryker, I stowed my purse next to the sofa and drifted toward the dining room perusing each of the family pictures adorning the walls. Although they were different sizes ranging from small to large, I noticed they’d been placed with care showing a procession of sorts, of time moving forward. Naturally I found myself peering at the ones of Ryker more than the others, admiring him as a toddler, then a little snaggle-toothed boy as well as a gangly pre-teen with a face full of attitude. There were fewer pictures of him in his high-school days and, unlike the ones of Max and Cruz, no formal senior one which didn’t make sense because I knew those were done early in school year, well before graduation.
I twisted to try and find more snapshots of Ryker thinking maybe they were in another area of the room, but there weren’t any more to be
seen. In fact, there weren’t any spaces to show where other pictures might’ve hung, then removed, and I found it odd.
Was Ryker camera-shy or didn’t like the way he looked in photos?
I turned and took in the largest picture of all, the one in a massive frame right next to the front door, with a shelf underneath holding two, already lit votive candles. The man in the photograph was very good-looking, with light hair and skin, but with Ryker’s green eyes. I somehow surmised who the man was based on his eye color alone. It was his father; the man who had tragically died just a few months after Ryker was born.
Later when Cruz helped Maggie into her seat and Ryker pulled out my chair, the next few minutes were a flurry of activity as the men all piled their plates high with all the food on offer. So busy and intent on their task, conversation was at a minimum except for the occasional, “Looks good, Ma.” I shot a glance from beneath my lashes at the Santiago-Adams matriarch, mainly to determine if this kind of behavior (one I was secretly calling, ‘feeding time at the zoo’) was normal for her sons. She sat regally, her elbows on the edge of the table, holding her hands underneath her chin and wearing a warm, soft smile as her eyes lovingly lit on each one of her sons.
What I didn’t know but she spoke of later, was I held the same look, that my gaze lit on only one of her sons and held a light that made my man’s mother catch her breath at the warmth she saw in my eyes.
Chapter Nine
Ryker didn’t think he handled the end of his and Phoebe’s time at his mother’s house very well. Although things had gone all right through most of the meal, except for a couple of hiccups when talk had strayed into the arena of him in the years he was away.
No. It was afterward, when he’d tired of all the shop-talk with his brothers as his mom and Phoebe took care of the aftermath of the dinner, the gentle lull of their voices in the kitchen only interrupted by the clink of a dish or piece of silverware, that he’d finally thought it was okay to call it a night.
But as he shifted his weight in order to stand up and claim his girl, Cruz decided a change in subject was needed. “Don’t want this to fucking happen again.”
Ryker looked up in surprise to see Cruz’s weirdly worded comment was aimed his way. “What ‘this’, bro’?”
“You bringing your latest piece of ass to the family table.”
Ryker’s eyes moved to look at Max and gauge his reaction to their middle brother’s words. “You don’t see me or Cruz bringing pussy to Ma’s table anymore so don’t bring yours.”
Ryker plopped his ass back down into the sofa and glared at the both of them. “Numero uno, my Phoebe is not some piece of ass, nor do I consider bringing my girlfriend to meet my goddamn family an act of bringing pussy to Ma’s table, for fuck’s sake!”
“So, she’s wearing your fucking ring then?” Cruz’s voice held more than a healthy dose of snide. “Because you know, Ry, fucking know how hella impressed Ma was with your girl being a nurse. Not just any kind of nurse, but one of the goddamned registered, super-educated types.”
“And with the way she treats you, all sweet and shit, blinking up at you as if you were Jesús incarnate only gives Mom the idea that her boy has found ‘the one’,” Max added with a lip curl while doing air quotes with his fingers. “We all know you’re too young to be thinking about tagging a potential wife, so you bringing that Phoebe home to meet us is just fucking stupid.”
The rage shooting through Ryker, flaring so fast and furious boiled inside him.
But Max wasn’t finished. “Maybe you didn’t learn this since you were in…,” he had the grace to look to the doorway ensuring his words weren’t overheard or his meaning understood. “That you were away, but there are girls you fuck and ones you marry.”
“And we don’t bring those we fuck to Ma’s place,” Cruz finished, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest in finality.
Ryker opened his mouth to speak but he was beyond angry, so lost in his fury he forgot how to for a moment. “How fucking dare you?” he hissed into the quiet, tense air. “Who the fuck are you two to talk to me about my girl? And she most definitely is my girl. Not yours, not Ma’s but mine. All fucking mine.”
He was panting at the flames of anger beating inside him. “And because she is mine, my Phoebe deserves your respect. I don’t give a shit who the two you date, fuck or bring home. Because that shit’s personal and private. Just as my relationship with Phoebe is. You don’t like I brought her here? Well, too fucking bad!”
He inhaled quickly and sharpened his glance so that it zeroed in on each one of his brothers, only belatedly noting the surprised looks both of them wore. “I don’t know about rings or even getting married at this point. What I do know is that I really like her and don’t fucking need permission from either one of you two fuck-ups about her and me and where our relationship might end up.”
Ryker swiped his sweaty palms over his jeans and took in a calmer breath. “So get off my ass or let’s take it outside because I’m feeling the need to kick some brotherly butt.”
There were a few beats of silence before he heard Cruz mutter, “Guess he fucking told us.”
“No need to get your boxers in a bunch, Ry,” Max drawled, shifting deeper into the club chair he’d claimed as his own from the time he was sixteen. “We just wanted to let you know the lay of the land. The rules of the game, so to speak.”
Ryker shook his head and closed his eyes even as he fisted his hands. He needed to hit something, preferably one or the other of his brother’s half-grinning faces. “Don’t know when the fucktard twins made those fucking rules, but this is one hermano who won’t be playing by them. Better get used to it.”
And with that, Ryker fully rose to his feet in order to go claim his woman and take her home. Maybe there was another kind of physical activity, one much, much sweeter he could use to work off his residual anger.
*.*.*.*.*
I was mortified. So embarrassed at what Ryker said at the end of our visit to his mom’s house I could’ve died.
How could he?
I mean of all the things to say, for god’s sake!
Didn’t he know how it sounded?
Didn’t he see how three sets of stunned eyes slammed open to their widest setting and speared us with looks of incredulity before it was quickly masked?
He’d started out okay, thanking his mother for the dinner (which I echoed) and telling his brothers he’d see them at the office the next day. But then he’d added the last bit.
The one that kept my blush, even in remembrance, flaming my cheeks so much it almost lit my side in the interior of the SUV.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ma,” he’d said without a care. “Spending the night at Phoebe’s place.”
Oh my god!
Seriously?
“How could you say that?” I asked, my voice trembling and quiet, still caught up in the throes of my humiliation even after both car doors were closed and he’d started the ignition.
“Say what?”
“How could you just blatantly tell your mother you’ll be spending the night at my apartment?”
“You don’t want me to sleep over?” He glanced at me before turning back to the road. “Felt badly we didn’t get to do it last time, cariña. But I didn’t want to upset her since I didn’t arrange it beforehand. My Ma, she worries.”
I opened my mouth but closed it because I didn’t know what to say. Yes, I totally did want him to sleep in my bed and wake up with me, something I’d considered the only missing portion of our fantabulous night together. But to flippantly announce it to one and all, letting them know we were having sex?
Uh-uh.
No way, Jose.
“Wasn’t there any other way for you to do it? Maybe have had a quiet word with her alone or something?” My voice sounded small within the confines of interior.
He reached for the hand I had resting on my thigh, pulling it until he could lace our fingers together. Then he brought our j
oined hands up to his mouth, kissing the backside of my palm. “I think everyone knew the moment they saw us together, mi bella cariña.”
“Knew what?”
“That we’re a couple, baby. A couple who enjoys each other’s company. Who like being together. Which includes the time we spend in the bedroom.”
I allowed his words to sink deep inside me on an inhale.
I was a part of a couple.
Part of a two-some with Ryker.
I liked it. But I didn’t like that others could see it, that even his family knew what was growing between us. It was new and special and, because it was still growing, precious.
Another thought occurred to me. “Do you think your mom has a problem with it? With you spending the night at my house?”
He grinned as he turned into the long driveway before tidily tucking the SUV into one of the visitor slots at my complex. “No, baby, I don’t.”
He shut off the engine and unlatched his seatbelt but turned to me instead of getting out of the car. Unlacing our entwined fingers, he lifted his hand to my face, cupping my jaw as he stared deeply into my eyes. “I know my mother loves me and only wants the best for me. And, Phoebe, right now? You are the very best thing, someone neither my ma nor I could’ve ever hoped to have happen.”
Oh, wow.
I swallowed, trying to find enough wetness in order to reply. “Just as you are for me, Ryker.”
It must’ve been the right thing to say at that moment because his lips met mine with an intensity he usually reserved for our make-out sessions. The kind of kiss so deep and so erotic I could somehow feel it in my nipples and between my legs. Creating the ‘Ryker sex-fog’ that so dazzled me, we were already inside my apartment and halfway down my hall before it began to fade.
I wanted to ask where he was taking me, but I immediately knew when we crossed the threshold to my bedroom.
Ryker was taking me to the naked version of us.
*.*.*.*.*
He pressed his face deeper into her hair as he curled himself around her back, their legs overlapping each other, his now satisfied dick lying half-limp against the crevasse of her ass. One of his hands was filled with her breast as the other was tucked underneath the pillow they shared.
Phoebe: Book One of Broken Girls Series Page 9
