CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ryan
She looks exhausted, even in the candlelight surrounding us. Unfortunately, I don’t know much about her job, but given the way she brought her shoes into the house with flip flops on her feet, I assume that she stands for a good portion of any event she’s planned.
“How was your day?” I take a bite of the asparagus, almost moaning. There are three things I do well. Cook, fuck, and take down bad guys.
I watch her take a bite of her cream of mushroom covered pork chop and daintily swallow. The movement of her throat muscles mesmerize me, and I have to adjust my seat, which is almost embarrassing.
“It was long, but good.”
She doesn’t offer more than that, and honestly that’s not enough for me. If we’re going to do this, I want to know as much as I can about her daily life. Right now I know what she tells her brother, and what he in turn bitches to me about. “Did you have an event?”
“A wedding,” she smiles. “It was gorgeous, too. They were a young couple, extremely in love, and not yet ruined by the reality of life. It was nice to see.”
I get the feeling she has been ruined, and I think about whether I want to call her on it. In the end, I’m the kind of guy that has to know everything. I don’t shy away from the bad parts and expect to be told only about the rainbows and flowers. Bad things, good things – they all make up what we call life, and I’ve been alive long enough to know you can’t have the good without the bad or vice versa.
“Have you been ruined by the reality of life?”
The question seems to startle her. Her water glass stops halfway to her mouth and she puts it down on the table, along with her fork and knife. Pushing her hair back from her face, her blue eyes search mine. “You want honesty?”
“I always want honesty. I didn’t make it home from two tours in Iraq by lying to myself,” I take a drink of my beer to calm the pounding of my heart.
“I don’t really know that I was ever in love with Stephen the way the couple that I helped get married today are in love with each other,” she says softly.
This is a break-through, and I’m unsure of the reason, but I’m thankful for it. She’s still talking, and I have to tell myself to pay attention.
“When a man asks you to marry him, you get so caught up in the pomp and circumstance of it. Mom and dad were so excited and happy for me.”
“What about you?” I think I’m the first person who’s ever thought to ask her that question.
She shrugs, those eyes of hers shiny. “I felt like an adult. It was the logical next step in my life, and I felt as if it was one I should take,” she breathes deeply. “Trevor asked me about it the day before the wedding. He asked if I was sure I wanted to do it, and I told him he was crazy to ask me that question. When I look back now, I think he’s the only one who knew that Stephen wasn’t the man everyone thought he was.”
We’re quiet for a long moment, and then by mutual agreement, we continue eating.
I wait a long time before I say anything else, because I don’t know how the declaration will be perceived, but I know I have to say it. “Whit, I want you to know that I’m everything you think I am, and everything you think I’m not.”
Her brows draw together in question. “I don’t know if I get what you mean, Ryan.”
“That’s okay. You will.”
That’s a promise I make to both of us. I won’t be erased from her life the way Stephen was. I won’t have to be.
Whitney
I am beyond tired, but at the same time I don’t want Ryan to go. It’s been nice spending the evening with him. Someone having dinner ready when I get home is a new concept for me. Stephen sure as hell never did that. He expected it on the table when he got home, no matter what kind of a day I was having. I defied him once and that’s all it took for me to learn never to do it again. Hiding my yawn behind my hand, I glance over at Ryan.
“Are you tired?” he asks softly.
He does it in such a way that makes me think he knows the answer, but he wants to me to admit that I’m not Superwoman. Sometimes I want to admit that too, and I think out of anyone I’ve ever been with, it’s okay for me to answer that question honestly with him.
I nod before answering. He wanted honesty earlier, and there’s no reason for me to believe he won’t want honesty again. “Exhausted,” I smile. “But this is the kind of exhausted I love. I’ve done a good job, my team has done a good job, and the bride was happy. I can go to bed tonight with a smile on my face.”
We’re sitting on the couch and Ryan has my feet in his hands, working the tired ball of pain. His fingers are doing amazing things, loosening the tight bunch of muscles and it’s putting me to sleep. I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in weeks, he could be a masseuse if this whole task force thing doesn’t work out for him. Just as I’m sinking down into the feeling of euphoria he’s giving me, he looks over at me, his eyebrow raised.
“Do you go to bed very often with a smile on your face?”
Damn him and his questions, he wants to go deeper than I want. I know it’s his way of getting to know me, his way of proving to me I can’t do everything on my own, but I’m having such a good time with him tonight that it pisses me off. I’m tempted to tell him to fuck off, but that’s not me and I’m trying to be better than I was before. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, and I don’t want to shy away from anything.
“Sometimes,” I answer honestly. “More now than I did. When I was with Stephen, it was hard to be happy about anything because I walked around on eggshells so much. I didn’t ever want to do anything to upset him, so I kind of forgot what happy really was. I’m learning to be happy again, though. Every day I find something that makes me giggle or puts a smile on my face, and I hold it tightly. The therapist I saw back when he and I first got divorced told me I’d remember how to be happy again, and she’s right. It comes easier every day.” I flex my foot against his hand. “If you keep rubbing my feet the way you are, I’ll definitely go to bed with a smile on my face.”
He flashes me his own smile, his teeth white against the dark stubble covering his face. I never noticed, but he’s got smile lines, which means he knows how to be happy. Maybe he can teach me, and maybe we can be happy together. With this life we’ve created, with the way our worlds will be entwined in the future, possibly the two of us can build something I never could with my ex-husband. I bring myself out of my thoughts as I realize he’s speaking. “My plan is to make myself invaluable to you. I wanna show you how good I am to have around.”
In a moment of clarity that I’m sure I’ll want to take back in the morning, I lean in and kiss him softly on the lips. I feel closer to him than I have anyone else in years. I don’t want to question too much why I feel this way. I know a part of it is the child I carry, part of it is the way he’s taken care of me tonight, but there’s another part I don’t want to look at too closely. When I’m ready, I will. “You’re already there, whether you know it or not.”
His hands stop, and he chases my lips when I pull away. His breath is hot as he forces my lips open, and I stop fighting. I give in, because I’m tired of so many things tonight. I let myself melt against the cushions when he pushes me back to them, holding himself over my body. He’s careful not to put his weight on me, but the heat rolling off him is enough to make me wind my arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss. For a fraction of a moment I feel his tongue flirt with mine and I feel the sharp jolt of electricity when he runs it against the roof of my mouth, leaving no space untouched. He owns my mouth the way he owned my body. If I’m not careful, this man will own me in a different way Stephen ever hoped to. It lasts both forever and not long enough. I feel his hand cup my cheek as he disengages our embrace. I moan when our lips finally part.
His forehead drops to mine, and he breathes heavily against me. When he lifts his head and looks into my eyes, they’re dark with desire, but soft at the same time. “You’re tired W
hit, let’s get you to bed.”
I grin up at him, feeling a little brazen. I’m not sure what I want tonight, I just know I don’t necessarily want to be alone. “Am I going down the hall by myself tonight?”
It seems as if I’ve taken him by surprise with my words. He doesn’t say anything for the next few moments. “It’s your decision, just know we won’t be getting naked. You need your sleep.”
I can’t help the way my stomach drops at his words. I’d wanted to get naked with him, I’d wanted to feel his heat again, but he’s right. I’m more tired than I thought I was and if I let myself relax, I know I’ll be fading fast. An idea pops into my head before I can push the words back into my throat.
“You saying you’ll hold me?”
I want him to answer this question badly, I want him to say the right thing, because so far he’s said all the perfect things. For once I want someone to not disappoint me. Stephen never held me when I needed to be held. God, there had been so many nights when I’d needed it. The few times I’d asked him, he’d laughed at me and told me I was weak for asking. I want desperately for Ryan to be the man I hope he is. I want us to be able to be around one another. With Stephen, I’d started to hate him, and towards the end, I couldn’t even stand to be around him. That’s when I’d known we had to divorce. I couldn’t take living that life any longer.
The getting through the divorce had been the hard part. He’d fought me every step of the way for any of the things I’d wanted to keep. Then he’d decided not to sign the papers. Every night for a year and a half, I’d asked God what I’d done wrong. How had I accepted a man like this into my life, my heart, and my bed. Was I really that bad at reading personalities and telling bad from good? It’d made me question every damn thing I’d ever done. But here, tonight, with Ryan, I want him to be the man I think he is. I don’t want to question him, I want to believe he’s exactly everything he says he is. Tonight, I’ll believe it for me and this child I’m carrying.
His voice is deep when he answers. I can see honesty and truth in his eyes. If I’m looking deep enough, I can also see he’s surprised I’ve made this request. I am too, but if I don’t start correcting the pattern now, I don’t know what my child is going to be born into. I need to be strong for him or her. I need to learn to not only stand on my own two feet, but also know when to ask for help. Tonight, I want his arms around me, I want to lean on him and let him help me. “For as long as you let me, or at least until you force me to let go.”
Here, in the muted light of my living room, with him staring at me like he is, I’m not sure I ever want him to let go.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ryan
All night I’ve slept maybe three hours. I haven’t wanted to miss anything, because Whitney letting me in her bed to do this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence. With everything I have in me, I know that to be a fact. Last night, she’d been weak. She’d needed someone to take care of her, and she’d been strong enough to let me do it.
I have no doubt as soon as she wakes up and realizes I’m still in her bed, she’s gonna kick me out. Am I okay with that? Not really, but I’m not in any position to make demands. I want the two of us to have an amicable relationship. She holds all the power to let me see my child too, so I want to be the type of guy she can get along with and be proud to have in her corner.
Her ex-husband wasn’t like that, from everything I can gather. I want to be different, be a much better man than he ever thought he could be.
There’s one thing I can’t deny though. How right it feels to have her in my arms. Sometime in the middle of the night, she snuggled up to me. Taking advantage of it, I pulled her into my chest and I haven’t let her go since. So many of my teenage dreams involve this – hell, I’m not ashamed to say it got me through some hard nights in Iraq, too. Over there, it’s whatever gets you through the night, and Whitney got me there.
She’s stirring and it’s making me nervous, I don’t want to go yet. There are things I want to know about her. How does she take her coffee? What’s the first thing she does in the morning? What does she have for breakfast? Does she wear a robe? Is she a morning shower person? These are all questions most people in relationships learn about each other, but I’m not sure if I’ll be afforded the same opportunity most people have.
“Ryan, you gotta let me go,” she says, an urgency in her voice.
I’m not sure why, but I don’t even question it. In a flash, she’s out of the bed and she’s running for the bathroom. Seconds later, I hear her emptying her stomach. The sound is awful and it makes me want to puke, but I man up. This is something I’ve been fighting to be a part of – I need to be in there with her.
Getting up, I stumble in behind her, cringing when I hear another round. Ryan Kepler can handle this shit – I figure if I say it enough, it’ll stick. She’s leaning over the porcelain and I do what any man worth his salt would do. I lean behind her and grab her hair out of the way, rubbing her back as she heaves.
“You don’t have to stay,” she tells me as she tries to catch her breath.
“Get the fuck outta here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I hope she realizes how true the words I speak are.
* * *
“I know you can’t have caffeinated coffee, but do you have decaf?” I ask as I navigate Whitney’s kitchen. It’s starting to become as familiar to me as my own. If this is the only way she’ll let me take care of her, then so be it. I’ll take what I can get.
She’s leaning on the bar, her head in her hands. “It’s to your left.”
I open the cabinet door and spot the bag of coffee. “You need anything else? Would toast make you feel better?”
I’m trying not to pay attention to the fact I’m wearing no shirt and she’s in her pajamas. Granted, I’ve seen her naked, and she’s seen me naked, but this is so much more intimate than anything else we’ve ever done.
“Toast would be great,” she gives me a small smile.
She’s so pale and she’s shaky. It occurs to me, she does this by herself every morning. Nobody’s here to take care of her; she does what she has to do and then she goes to work, comes home, and takes care of herself again. It’s wrong. It’s not how I want this to be, and I hope she’ll feel the same way. The only way I can prove how invaluable I am is to be here when she needs me. “Coming right up. Dry?”
“Yeah,” she laughs softly. “I tried butter one day. Our child didn’t like that at all.”
It makes my breath catch as she mentions our child. I don’t know how to respond to what she’s said, but I do my best. “Already a picky eater, huh? Totally didn’t take after me,” I joke, a smile on my own face.
“How true is that statement?” she lifts her head off her hands and gives me a fond look. “I remember you and Trevor eating pizza rolls with honey. I mean who in the world does that? It looks so nasty.”
“It’s the sweet and salty thing,” I defend my food choices. “Besides, that’s a cheat meal now. I can’t eat like that these days and still have this body,” I run my hand down my abs. “I have to do extra sit ups and lots of weights to keep these now.”
Her eyes have followed my hand, and I can’t help but to feel a little cocky and conceited. She likes my body? I can work with that. The toast pops and I grab the two pieces, putting them on a Styrofoam plate. Grabbing the coffee pot that’s finished brewing, I bring that over as well.
“Look at you being all domesticated and making me breakfast,” she pours her coffee and begins doctoring it.
“I made you dinner last night, too. There’s a lot I can do for you, if you let me,” I wink, hoping those words didn’t sound as provocative to her as they did to me.
She takes a drink of her coffee, seeming to think about what I’m saying. “We’re gonna have to take it one day at a time, Ryan. I understand how badly you want to be a part of my life, of this child’s life, and I’ve told you I don’t want to keep you away. I won’t keep you away. Plea
se understand though, I need to protect myself, too. Just because you’ll be there for our child doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be there for me, and I understand that.”
I don’t know what to say to her. Anything I can think of sounds like I’m a fucking stalker, and I don’t want to scare her off.
“As long as you’ll allow me, I’ll be there for the both of you. Whit, I think you know, whether you want to admit it or not, how I feel about you. I don’t see that changing, since it hasn’t really changed since I was old enough to know what that tickle in my stomach was when I saw you,” she looks like she wants to protest. Putting my hand up, I stop her. “I understand you’re not there yet, and you may never be there. I’m starting to understand what an ass your ex was. I’m willing to put the time in, just let me do it. Let me be here when you need help, and I’ll prove you can count on me.”
She takes a drink of her coffee, pondering my words. I can almost see the inner workings of her head. I’m surprised smoke and steam isn’t rising from her forehead. At some point I realize I have a shot. Her eyes have softened and she’s giving me a real smile. The one that shows the laugh lines on her face. My hope meter is off the charts.
“Okay,” she stops my words with a hand in my face. “I’m willing to give you a shot. If you want to prove to me you’re in this for the long haul, then I’ll let you be here. Starting out we can have dinner together every Tuesday and Thursday night,” she finishes. “If you already have plans, I only ask that you let me know.”
I can do anything she asks of me. This will be a piece of cake.
“I’m not asking you to cook for me all the time either,” she’s saying. “We work as a team, because Ryan, we’ve got to figure out how to be a team.”
I grab her hand and kiss the back of it. “I think we’ve proven what a good team we can be.”
She throws me a look. “We’ve got to prove we can get along outside the bedroom, too. We’ve got at least eighteen years to put up with each other.”
Renegade (Moonshine Task Force Book 1) Page 8
