by Scott, Inara
They sat together a long time, until Emilio’s eyes drifted closed, and he fell asleep. Maria came in then, and Rosalia. They stood on either side of Ryker, Maria’s hand resting on his shoulder.
“The doctor is outside. She’d like to talk to us,” Maria said.
Ryker nodded but didn’t rise. He looked back and forth between them, his gaze lingering on Rosalia. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with unaccustomed tears. “I should have gone with you to the cemetery that day, Rosa. I should have stayed for dinner last week.” He held out his hands. “I should have done a lot of things.”
She stood still, her body hard and unyielding. “Like what?”
He grimaced. “I should have known you’d want more.”
She didn’t smile, but he thought he saw a hint of humor in her dark eyes, and her chin lowered just a fraction of an inch.
“I should have been there with you when she died. I should have learned Spanish so I could have read the stone on her grave.” He stood and held out a hand. “There’s probably a lot more, but that’s a start. Can you forgive me?”
Rosalia’s chin trembled, and she pressed her lips together as if that would hold back the tears glistening in her eyes. “I suppose I haven’t been the easiest person to live with either. But you don’t know what it’s like. She wanted me to keep us together, and I’ve failed her, all these years. I tried so hard, but I didn’t know how to do it. I didn’t know how to be her.”
Ryker felt the wind knocked out of him at Rosalia’s words. He stared at her, amazed. “You thought you had failed her? She adored you. It drove me crazy how she favored you. And look at you now—you’re like the rock in the ocean we all swirl around. You are the center of this family, Rosa. No one else could do that. No one.”
Rosalia laughed and wiped her nose. “I thought I could never live up to you. You were so strong, so independent. She was so proud of you. All she ever wanted was to make you happy.”
Maria snorted. “Funny how no one seems to be comparing themselves to me.”
Rosalia smiled, and just like that, a heavy weight Ryker hadn’t even known he was carrying lifted from his heart.
“Sure we did,” Ryker said. “Right, Rosa?”
Rosalia winked. “Right Ricar—I mean, Ryker.”
Ryker paused and then shrugged. “You can call me Ricardo,” he said. “I suppose that’s my name too.”
They started toward the door, where a patient doctor in lime-green scrubs stood waiting, clipboard in hand.
Ryker poked Maria in the ribs. “You’ll translate, right? I don’t do well with doctors.”
Maria nodded. “I talked to her a few minutes ago. Everything looks really good. She just wants to give us some details about the CT scan and talk about what we might expect to see over the next few days. You can probably go home. I know you’re at a busy time in the movie.”
“I’m exactly where I need to be,” Ryker said.
The doctor talked about more tests, physical therapy, and recovery rates. The only thing Ryker heard was that the stroke had been relatively mild, and they’d been lucky to get Emilio to the hospital so quickly. They would have to keep a close eye on him over the next few days, and there could be some lasting damage to his left side, but they were optimistic that he would make a full recovery.
When the doctor left, Ryker sank into a chair beside Rosalia and Maria, relief flooding his body. “You two should go,” he said. “You’ve got kids at home. I’ll stay with him tonight.”
Maria shook her head. “I can stay. Fifi’s happy with her cousins.”
“We’re ahead of schedule. There’s nothing for me to rush back to.”
“But—”
He raised one hand. “Please. Let me stay with him.” He imagined the cold, dark hallways of his house, the roar of the ocean that had once been so comforting but lately only reminded him of one thing. One person. “I don’t want to go back to an empty house right now.”
Maria drew back and shot a look at Rosalia. Ryker laid his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He felt raw, his emotions so close to the surface he imagined his sisters could see down into his soul.
Rosalia put her hand on his knee. “Do you hear anything from Daisy?” she asked softly.
The sound of her name—her real name, the name she didn’t know quite what to do with—rang like a dark, painful chord. “No.”
Maria studied him, her brows drawn together. “Why don’t you call her?”
“I tried. She didn’t answer.” He didn’t mention that he had only called once and then hung up when he got her voice mail. Truth was, he didn’t really want to talk to her. Just hearing her voice made him shudder.
“You miss her.”
It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t bother to protest. “I said things to hurt her. I think I wanted to hurt her. She said she loved me, and I threw it in her face.”
Maria grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Go after her. She’ll understand.”
“You weren’t there.” He remembered the disgust in her eyes and the anguish she tried to hide. “I was a bastard. She’ll never forgive me.”
“She already knew you were a bastard,” Maria said baldly. “And she fell in love anyway. Besides, what choice do you have? You love her, don’t you?” She paused. “Don’t you?”
Ryker paused. Of course he loved her.
He’d loved her all along. He’d just been too scared to see it.
“I do. I love her.” All his words about love being for fools, about love being a made-up emotion, suddenly sounded so silly. This was what they talked about. This was the feeling that drove people to do crazy things, that had led his mother to conceive a child with a man she knew would never be hers, and eventually led her to happiness in Emilio’s arms.
He loved her.
The truth of it rushed through him, momentarily drowning out everything other than the beating of his heart and the whoosh of his blood in his veins.
He loved her.
And that meant he had to find a way to win her back.
Maria and Rosalia looked at each other and smiled.
“I knew it,” Maria said with satisfaction.
“Talk to her,” Rosalia advised. “You said terrible things to me too, but I forgave you, didn’t I?”
“You’re my sister. You don’t have a choice,” Ryker said. “We’re family.”
Rosalia smiled and laid her head on his shoulder and then punched him on the arm. “I’m glad you finally remembered.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Alix bumped down her long, sandy driveway, her eyes darting to the letter sitting on the passenger seat, glaring at her. It was from her agent, and it was thick. Probably the contract for the book.
The fact that she had a contract already was proof of how much the publishers had wanted the book. Charlie had submitted it on a Thursday, and by Friday they’d had five offers. Everyone loved artsy sex pictures. Who didn’t want an excuse to look at people having sex? Pornography was hard to justify, but this was love, and the editors knew it would sell like hotcakes.
Even if the artist had changed her mind halfway through the book about the existence of love.
She sat in the driveway and opened the letter. Alix felt ill when she looked at the line for her signature. Charlie had actually urged her not to sign it. He said in a month she’d want to change her mind and redo the ending. And that was the problem—she did want to change the ending. She hated it. It felt wrong. She’d given up on true love and gone for pretty pictures of people having sex. It was the opposite of everything she’d wanted to do.
But that was the old Alix talking. The one who believed in all that nonsense. The new Alix understood that it was all business.
She folded the contract and jammed it in her pocket and then pushed open the car door. She’d have to sign it quickly, before she lost her nerve.
“Rex!” she called. It was odd that he hadn’t come out to greet her. Usually he met her car ha
lfway down the drive. She heard a growl, then a bark from the other side of the house.
With an irritated sigh, Alix rounded the side of the cottage. In the past week, Rex had taken to barking at a pair of eagles that hunted in the marshy area just beyond the house. She wouldn’t mind so much, except she worried if Rex got irritating enough, one of the eagles might actually carry him off.
“Rex, come!”
He barked twice but didn’t appear. The only other time she’d heard him bark like that had been… Her brain froze, mid-thought, because at that moment, she saw him.
Ryker Valentine, pressed against her house, Rex sitting a few feet away.
He raised a hand, and Rex growled.
“Any chance you might be willing to call him off?” Ryker asked, his voice high and strangled.
“Depends on what you want,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even while her heart leaped unsteadily in her throat. “I cashed the check two weeks ago. You can’t have the money back.”
“I’m not here about money. I needed to see you.”
Alix studied him. He didn’t look as dapper as usual. His hair actually looked as though it hadn’t been washed for a couple of days, and he wore an old pair of jeans that could have belonged to any of the residents of Desmond, Oregon.
Which was to say they hardly looked right on Ryker Valentine.
“You look terrible.”
“Emilio had a stroke a week ago. I haven’t been home much since. These are Anthony’s clothes.”
“Oh no,” she said, one hand coming to rest on her chest. “Is he okay?”
“He’s making an incredible recovery. He was lucky. Maria found him right after it happened.”
“I see.” She snapped her fingers at Rex. “Leave.”
He trotted obediently to her side, looked up at her, and whined.
“So?” She forced an expression of nonchalance. “Any particular reason you decided to stop by? Other than to tell me about Emilio?”
“You wouldn’t return my calls,” he said.
“I figured if it was important, you’d leave a message.” She turned her back on Ryker and started toward the house. As she did, she pulled the contract from her pocket. She needed a pen.
Now.
Before the mere presence of this man brought her newfound cynicism tumbling to the ground. Her insides were already turning to warm, molten honey, and a buzz had begun between her ears that was making it difficult to think.
He took your heart and stomped on it, she reminded herself.
“Wait,” he said, grabbing her shoulder. “Please. I’ve been doing a lot of apologizing lately, and I’m getting pretty good at it, but this may take a minute.”
“I need to sign this contract.” Resolutely, she shook off his hand and practically ran to the front door. She gave it a hard slam with her shoulder and stumbled when the door fell open. Ryker followed a few feet behind.
Rex’s nails clicked on the wood floor as Alix searched for a pen. She found pencils, markers, even chalk, but no pen.
“What’s the hurry?” Ryker asked. “Can’t you do that later?”
She glared at him as she headed for the bedroom. There was a pen tucked inside her journal. She could use that. “No, I can’t.”
He squeezed in front of her and blocked the hallway with his annoyingly broad chest. “Alix, slow down. I really need to say this.”
“I’m not sure why I should care what you need.” She wanted to push him out of the way but didn’t trust herself to come in contact with his flesh. She raised a hand toward him, and he grabbed her wrist. She tugged on it, but he didn’t release his hold.
Rex growled in warning.
Ryker glared at him and released her hand. “Look, dog, this isn’t easy, okay? You scare the crap out of me. But I’m not leaving until I say my piece. So either rip out my throat now or leave me alone.”
Alix gaped at his words. She’d never suspected Ryker was scared of dogs. “Lie down,” she said to Rex. She turned back to Ryker. “So what did you want to say?”
“You were right, okay?” he shot out. “Everything you said was right. Emilio and my sisters, the way I was pushing away my family. It was all true. I didn’t figure it out until I got to the hospital and realized that if I wasn’t careful, Emilio would die just like my mother, and he’d never know how much he meant to me.”
Alix struggled to maintain a level of calm. “That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. Now, can you please leave?” She held up the contract. “I have something I need to do.”
“What’s that for, anyway?” He grabbed the contract from her hand and flipped through its contents. “You finished the book? Good for you. That must have felt great. Can I see it?”
“It did feel great, and no, you cannot.”
He reached out and took her hand. “I was wrong about other things too.”
She trembled and tried to pull away. “Please don’t.”
“You scared the hell out of me.” He refused to release her, reaching out and putting the other around her waist. “I panicked. I said horrible things to you. Things that weren’t true.”
She shook her head. “I’m not listening. I just need a pen. Please, let me get the pen.”
“I have no idea why you’re so determined to sign that contract, but I have a feeling I shouldn’t let you.”
“Look, I needed a dose of reality, and you gave it to me. Now I’m free to go out and screw anyone I want, and I’ll know better than to think there’s anything more to it. Does that make you happy?”
“No!” He hauled her against him. “You’ll touch another man over my dead body.”
She froze, the first tiny fingers of hope shooting through her. Her breasts flattened against his chest, nipples instantly tingling at the feeling of his body next to hers, the cold metal of his belt buckle pressing into her stomach. “That’s hardly fair. How am I going to satisfy my urges? I’m just an animal, right?”
He lowered his head, staring into her eyes as he did. “That was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever said. And you aren’t having sex again with anyone but me.”
She closed her eyes. Her knees trembled. “You’re a cruel man,” she whispered. “I was moving on. Getting my life back on track. Why did you have to come?”
He tipped up her chin. “Alix, you said something special happened that night. You said you fell in love with me, and we were joined together. You said we were one. Do you still believe that?”
She shook her head. “That was nonsense. I didn’t know what I was saying.”
He smiled and ran his thumb over her lips. “If I believed that, I would have to give up my life right now. Because you were right. We were one. It was magical. I’ve never felt that way before. About anyone.”
Her heart began to pound in earnest, the thumping so loud she could barely hear or think. “But you said…you don’t really…”
He kissed her gently. “I love you, Daisy Zahn, and I love you, Alix Z. I love all the people you are and everything you believe in. I love that you came out of darkness and always believed in light. I love that you refuse to give in to cynicism. I love your passion and your innocence. Please tell me I didn’t crush your love that day. Please.”
Hardly daring to speak, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. “Don’t lie to me,” she said, her voice lost in the folds of his coat. “I can’t take any more lies.”
“Look at me, Alix.” His voice rumbled deep in his chest.
She swallowed hard. “I don’t think I can.”
He rested his cheek against the top of her head for a moment, then backed away. Solemnly, he slid his arm under her knees and picked her up.
“This is much easier in the movies,” he said. “Quick, where’s the bedroom?”
She tucked her head into his chest and pointed behind him.
He spun around and found her bed, covers tangled at the base. He set her down gently and began to remove her shoes.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“It worked for Jake,” he said. “Maybe it will work for me.”
She watched him slide her shoes and socks from her feet. She couldn’t think about what was happening. His words tangled in her mind even as his fingers sent her pulse racing. He rubbed the arch of her foot and caressed the delicate skin of her ankle before moving higher, to the waistband of her pants.
“These jeans,” he said solemnly as he unzipped and eased them down her legs, “are the ugliest things I have ever seen.”
Alix shivered as he kissed the back of her knee. “Isn’t the woman supposed to be the one giving fashion lessons?”
“Not when the woman puts together outfits like this.”
She sighed happily and relaxed under his ministrations. “You are a bit of a fashion plate, you know.”
He threw her pants down on the floor and nibbled on the soft skin of her stomach. “I am an artist,” he proclaimed.
She laughed, the sound catching in her throat when he looped his fingers under the edge of her panties and swept them to the ground. “In more ways than one.”
He pulled her T-shirt over her head, trailing a long line of kisses down her throat as he did. The thin cotton garment sailed across the room. As usual when she was at the beach, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts spilled forward to be cupped in his palms. Her nipples ached for his touch, and when he released her to lean back and remove his own clothes, she moaned and arched toward him with need.
“So impatient,” he murmured, tracing the edge of her areola with one finger. “I still can’t believe you did without for so long.”
“I was waiting for you,” she said.
A soft ocean breeze swirled around the room through an open window, and the smell of salt and warm sand surrounded them. When his body was exposed to her, she sat up and ran her fingers down his abdomen, following with her mouth along the hard ridges of his muscles. His penis jutted toward her, and she lowered her mouth to it, gently kissing the tip and licking the bead of moisture that formed there.
He pushed her back against the pillows, taking her nipple in his mouth and teasing it until her head thrashed from side to side.
