I shrug a shoulder in response.
She gives me a stern look and re-opens the car door for me.
We drive over to Ryan’s without any conversation required on my part. Steph is going on and on about something that happened at work that turned into a scandal between two of her workmates, followed by a very descriptive mental picture of them being caught in the copy room.
I’m only half listening, instead watching her with amusement. She looks ridiculous driving this big vehicle. Mark is huge, and Steph is anything but.
“Next street on the left.” I interrupt her rambling as the GPS shows me the way to Ryan’s.
I glance around at the houses we’re passing and notice for the first time that we’re in a really expensive neighbourhood. I’d never given too much thought to where Ryan might live, or how well off he is financially now that he’s not part of the filthy rich, family business.
Money never seemed to be his priority over the years I’ve known him. He wouldn’t have walked away from his inheritance the way he did if he was all about money but judging by the size and quality of homes in this area, he isn’t doing too badly for himself despite that.
“Lover boy is loaded too, huh?” Steph asks as she dips her head to take in a huge three-storey house as we pass it by.
“It’s number thirty-seven,” I say, ignoring her comment.
She drives farther down the street and comes to a stop outside a slightly more modest-looking house. It’s still very nice, and I bet it cost an arm and a leg to buy, but it’s by far the least extravagant on the entire street.
I can’t quite place my reasoning for the thought, but I’m relieved it’s not some giant mansion.
We pull into the drive and no sooner that Steph has killed the engine, Ryan appears out of the front door, a wide smile on his handsome face.
A sigh slips through my lips without permission.
“I agree, mmm, mmm, mmm,” Steph teases smugly, climbing out of her door before I have a chance to argue with her assumption.
I close my eyes for a minute and take a deep breath. I’m here. I’m really doing this. It’s going to be fine.
I can do this.
I hear my door open and feel the cool air on my skin. My lids flash open.
“You planning to get out of there anytime soon?” Ryan asks, his tone amused.
I take in every inch of him from his dishevelled hair to his bare feet.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
He looks all kinds of handsome dressed up, but it’s possible he might look even better dressed down.
It’s as though he Googled ‘what to wear to drive women wild’ when he woke up this morning and then put on exactly that.
He’s got grey sweatpants slung low on his hips and a snug-fitting white t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. His bare arms are littered with tattoos, and I’m suddenly curious to know if any of them have any specific meaning to him, but now is not the time for twenty questions. Now is the time to remember how to function.
I unbuckle my seat belt and climb out of the vehicle on shaky legs, my body brushing past Ryan’s as I move.
His lip twitches as though he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s enjoying my reaction.
“Thank you again for this,” I say as I walk around to the back of the ute where Steph is already unloading my stuff.
“Nothing to thank me for.” His voice comes from close behind me. Too close.
I resist the shudder that my body tries to let out.
I’m going to have to get my head on straight, and fast. I’m going to be living with this man for the next little while, at least, and I can’t spend that entire time coaching myself through fighting the level of attraction I’m feeling right now.
I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones making me crazy or what, but I make a mental note to Google it when I get some privacy. It would be great if I could blame this on something other than pure lust.
Both Steph and Ryan refuse to let me lift a single box or bag into the house, even though I’m perfectly capable, so I stand there awkwardly, watching them carry the few things I own, into my new home.
Ryan shows me to the spare room – my room – it’s beautiful. The space is so well coordinated I have to assume he had help from a female. The whole house just has a woman’s touch, which unsettles me in a way I wouldn’t have expected it to.
I can’t help but wonder if he shared this home with a girlfriend, a fiancée... maybe even a wife. I know very little of what’s happened in his life these past few years.
“The door to the left is your bathroom, and that one there is your wardrobe.” He points at the two doors that come off the clean, light room, disrupting my train of thought.
“It’s a beautiful room, Ryan. Thank you.”
I turn to face him. He’s leaning against the door frame, his arm stretched up to rest on the top of the frame. My gaze lingers on his toned and golden bicep.
I don’t know how he does it – he makes standing still look sexy.
“You need to work out what you want me to pay in board, I have some cash on me, but I’ll set up a –”
His brow sets in a deep scowl and he cuts me off. “Stop talking.”
I tilt my head to the side, confused. “What? Why?”
He shakes his head, “I don’t want your money. I won’t take it.”
“You have to, I can’t live here for free,” I reply, outraged.
“If she’s being ungrateful, I’ll swap places with her,” Steph says, appearing behind Ryan and slipping through the doorway. “This house is amazing.”
She’s obviously been giving herself the grand tour, typical Steph. No boundaries and even less shame.
“I’m not ungrateful, I just can’t –”
“Then it’s settled,” Ryan cuts me off with a firm nod.
Those intense eyes of his are staring at me again, a mix of annoyance and confusion swimming in the depths of them. Mine are probably mirroring back the same.
There is no way I’m going to let this go, if it means I have to track down his bank account number myself, or hide cash in drawers around his house, I’ll do it. He’s already being so generous with his time and space, the last thing I want to do is take advantage of him financially too.
“Well, this has been fun, but I’ve got to get going. Mark is waiting for me.”
I hug and thank Steph, and with a few inappropriate, sexually based hand gestures behind Ryan’s back, she’s gone and we’re all alone.
“Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen and living room.”
He reaches his hand out towards me, and it takes me a few seconds to realise that he wants me to take his hand.
He wants to hold my hand.
I’m ridiculous. I’ve had sex with this man, but our palms touching still freaks me out.
I don’t know where I find the balls, but I comply, resting my hand in his much bigger one.
He leads me down the hall, my palm sweating in his.
Just a simple touch, something so innocent and sweet has my mind racing and my heart galloping in my chest.
I feel like a teenager on a first date, all hormones and nerves as he leads me through the living room, dining and into the kitchen.
“I didn’t know what kind of food you liked to eat, so I got a bit of everything.” His tone is sheepish as he drops my hand to open the double doors on the huge pantry in the corner, revealing shelf after shelf of snacks, cereals, treats… it’s like a supermarket threw up in here. The gesture is so kind, so generous and also so completely unexpected. “There’s fresh fruit and vegetables in the fridge.”
“You know, we might have to make another trip, there’s not nearly enough options,” I tease. “In fact, I think I could eat all this in one afternoon.”
He rubs at the back of his neck, his expression still a little embarrassed. “Is it all too much?”
A smile pulls at my lips as I watch him, watching me.
I reach out for him and give his forearm a light squeeze “It’s the sweetest, most considerate thing anyone has done for me in a long time, Ryan, I appreciate it, really.”
Jacob would never have thought to go out and buy anything for me. He probably would have offered to hire someone to do the shopping for us, if I’d asked him to, but he never would have thought about anyone or anything other than himself for long enough to consider doing something so nice for another person.
“I want you to be comfortable here, Darce, it’s important to me. What’s mine is yours.”
It most certainly is not mine, but I can tell by the look in his eyes that this is indeed important to him, and given how much he’s doing for me, the least I can do is go along with it.
“Thank you. You’re too kind to me.”
He shakes his head and opens his mouth to argue, but I get in first, snagging a packet of flavoured popcorn off one of the shelves.
“Are you busy? We could watch a movie?”
His answering smile is blinding, so much so that I physically stumble backwards a step, my jaw gaping.
He’s so gorgeous, it’s almost hard to look directly at him.
“You good?” he asks, his bottom lip working the ring of silver pierced through it.
I nod, my eyes trained on the movement.
Unwise. I tell myself. Staring at Ryan’s lips is definitely a mistake, even more so when I can remember the way that cool metal felt against my bare skin. Skin in places that barely sees the light of day.
“Movie,” I blurt out like a moron.
“You want to watch a movie?”
I nod, dumbly, unable to string a sentence together if my life depended on it. I don’t know how on earth I managed to sleep with this man without completely losing my shit. I can only assume it was the alcohol, and I won’t be able to repeat that until this kid evacuates my uterus.
He smirks, the look too good on him. “What do you want to watch, princess?”
I gape as he brushes past me and walks back out into the living room.
Princess.
I’d always wished that Jacob would call me by a pet name, something sweet, or sexy, or even just something silly that showed he’d gone to the effort to think of it. But he never did.
Princess.
It takes at least three full minutes before my legs remember how to move and my brain resembles something other than mush.
I’m in big trouble here. Big, tattoo-covered, pierced, sexy trouble.
8
Ryan
I’d always thought that living with a woman would be a massive adjustment – not that any of my past relationships have got anywhere near the ‘move in’ stage, but still, I never guessed it could be this easy.
Sure, her shoes are always cluttering up the doorway, she’s completely changed the smell of the entire house, and she plays godawful girly music way too loud, but my house has never felt more like a home.
Three weeks Darcy has been living with me. Three weeks together in what I hope she now considers our home, and I can honestly say without a moment of hesitation that they have been the best three weeks of my life.
I quickly learned that her favourite snack is popcorn, and that attempting to watch a movie without it was akin to committing some type of sin. I now knew that she hated to cry in front of me, yet she insisted on watching shows that made her teary. I knew that she talked to her best friends on the phone at least once, every single day. I’d discovered that she couldn’t cook to save her life and that she was missing her glass of wine at dinner each night. Most importantly, I’d learnt that I loved this woman like nothing else in the world.
She’s it for me. She’s living in my house, carrying my child. I don’t see how life could get any better than this.
“I was thinking about making green curry for dinner,” Darcy says as she stares at the crossword she’s been working on for the better part of the past three hours.
I’ve spent the same length of time reading a book about pregnancy and childbirth while being constantly distracted by her little sighs when she can’t figure out an answer, and her triumphant grins when she can.
“Why don’t you let me take care of dinner?” I offer. “You can finish that.”
She pauses, the pen in her hand hovering in mid-air, a slight pout on her lips. “You never let me cook anymore.”
“I’d rather you put your feet up.”
“You’re not a very good liar.”
“Aren’t I?” I try to hide my smirk, knowing full well that I am a shitty liar.
Her gaze lingers a moment on my lips before flashing to my eyes. “No. In fact, you’re shitty at it. Do you not like my cooking? You liked those burgers I made last week, right?”
I ponder how to answer for a moment. They were edible, but they weren’t a raging success, that’s for damn sure. I don’t know how you fuck up burgers, but she gave it a nudge.
I’ve got two choices here – keep bullshitting her and risk getting food poisoning or fess up and tell her that she’ll never be cooking in this kitchen again. I decide on the latter.
“Honestly? You’ve got a lot of strengths, Darcy Shearer, but cooking isn’t one of them,” I answer, bracing myself for her reaction.
I was expecting a look of horror, or maybe for her to even get upset, what I didn’t expect was for her to giggle, and then full-on laugh.
I don’t know why, but I’m starting to think the joke is on me somehow.
“I’m terrible,” she says through bouts of laughter. “Even I don’t like my cooking.”
I don’t know what’s going on here, but something tells me I’ve been played.
“Princess, what the fuck?” I demand.
I’ve been calling her ‘princess’ more and more, and after she got over the initial shock, I knew she was growing to like it. The light blush that stains her cheeks every time I say it is my favourite part about it.
“Steph made a bet with Freya that you’d be too nice to say anything, but Freya was banking on you eventually cracking and telling me how bad I am.”
I glance at the page number of my book, committing it to memory, and then let it drop to the coffee table with a solid thud.
“You risked the lining of my stomach for a bet?” I question playfully as I eat up the distance between us.
Her eyes widen as she scrambles off her seat, looking for an escape, her crossword long forgotten.
She darts into the kitchen – a rookie mistake – I’ve got her cornered now.
She realises her error as I stroll in behind her, completely at ease as her eyes dart around frantically.
“Bet you don’t think it’s so funny now, do you, princess?”
She giggles nervously.
God, she’s so fucking breathtaking. A living work of art, right here in my kitchen.
“Our baby is going to be the most beautiful thing in the world,” I blurt out. I don’t know where the words come from, but they’re one hundred percent true, so I don’t really care if they catch her off guard.
A flush of red colours her cheeks.
Fuck, I want to kiss her so badly. I’ve been holding back this entire time, never making more than a flirty comment or a cocky glance. I’ve wanted to, God, I’ve wanted to, but this is Darcy. She’s my whole world, and I’d never forgive myself if I fucked it up, but seeing her like this, barefoot, carefree – blushing… I don’t think I have any more patience or self-control left in me.
I take another deliberate step towards her.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t try to bolt. Just watches.
I take another.
“Ryan,” she whispers as I’m right before her.
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you for 22 days, princess.”
She doesn’t speak; her light blue eyes just stare at me, like cut crystal sparkling in the sun.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for longer than you’ll ever know.” I confess another truth she won’t comprehend the full reality
of.
My rough palm finds her jaw, and she leans her cheek into my touch, her eyelids fluttering closed.
“You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe it.”
“We shouldn’t do this,” she breathes, but the way she’s leaning into me suggests that she’s not entirely convinced of that fact herself.
“Give me one good reason why. One good reason, and I’ll stop.”
“It makes things… complicated…” she offers weakly.
I huff out a laugh, my thumb trailing gently over her cheek. “How much more complicated can it get?”
I move my thumb lower, to her mouth and over her plump bottom lip. She moans softly.
Fuck.
The sound sends shockwaves to my brain and my cock. Those moans have been on my mind ever since I sank myself deep inside her all those weeks ago.
“Exactly,” she replies, her voice slightly stronger. “Am I not enough to handle already?”
Her line of thought pisses me off. I hate the way she views herself as an inconvenience.
“You’re not something to be handled, Darce, you’re something to be treasured.”
Our eyes meet again, and she softens. She gives in to this energy that we share. She wants me as much as I want her – I can feel it. I see it in the way her breath catches when I come close and her eyes linger on my lips.
I should stop and check that she’s really okay with this, but I’m willing to be selfish in this moment. I know what I want, I’ve always known... and what I want, is her. I know I’m good for her. I know this is inevitable.
I dip my head, lowering it to her level and brush my lips softly against hers. She sighs, a relieved sound that has my heart speeding to a gallop.
I press deeper, my mouth melding to hers while she pushes her body forward, leaving no space between us as her small hands grasp handfuls of my shirt.
We kiss for what feels like forever, neither of us wanting to lose contact. I kiss her until I can barely breathe and my head is spinning, it’s so full of her.
She pulls away, her breath heavy as I rest my forehead against hers, her body still firmly in my grasp.
The First Rule: A Standalone Second Chance Romance Page 6
