“Go out on a date with me,” I half ask, half insist.
“A date?” she repeats.
“A date,” I confirm, “I want this, princess, us – the whole nine yards, for real this time.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“You think I don’t know that? I want to do this.”
“We were drunk that night, Ryan, it doesn’t mean you have to be tied to me for life.”
I scoff at how utterly absurd she’s being. “I wasn’t that drunk.”
“We drank more than a bottle of tequila between us, there’s no way you couldn’t have been drunk,” she argues with me.
“I brew alcohol for a living, Darce, trust me, it takes a hell of a lot for me to get so drunk that I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You weren’t that drunk?” she asks again, confusion marring her perfect features.
I shake my head.
“Then why?” she whispers.
It’s only half a question, but I know what’s she’s asking. Why on earth did I agree to something so reckless... something so crazy.
“Because it was you asking. Lines blur when it comes to you, Darcy.”
She doesn’t have an answer for that, instead choosing to bury her face in my chest.
I kiss the top of her head and wait as patiently as an impatient bastard like me can.
“I don’t know what to say,” she finally admits.
“Say yes. Just say yes.”
She pauses for a few beats before I hear a whispered, “Yes.”
“What, so you’re dating her now?”
I tense my fist at my side before stretching it out to relax.
Chill, I tell myself. Rebel might be my best friend, but I couldn’t give a fuck if she understands this or not – she doesn’t need to. Nobody needs to understand this but us. As long as it makes sense to Darcy and to me, that’s all I’ll ever need.
“Yip,” I reply curtly.
I might not be able to see the fieriest red head in my life through the phone, but I know she just rolled her eyes so hard at me that they might have actually gone completely back into her head.
“Where are you taking her?”
“Dinner at Needle and Thread.”
She humphs in reply. Rebel loves that place, so I know I can’t lose any points for my choice of location, it’s just my choice of date that offends her apparently.
Rebel knows the whole story, every last detail from the moment Darcy and I met, up until now. I’ve learnt that it’s easier that way – if I ever chose to keep something from Rebel, she’d find a way to extract it from me regardless. Keeping secrets is futile.
Rebel doesn’t even know Darcy, but she’s never been able to understand how Darcy could have made such a blunder, and she’s therefore held a grudge against her ever since.
“She getting fat yet or what?”
I chuckle because sometimes all I can do is laugh when it comes to my best friend and her total lack of tact. “No, she’s not really showing yet, but we’re just about into the second trimester so she’s bound to pop out a bit any time now.”
“Listen to that chat, sounding like you know what you’re doing.”
“Thought I better read a book about it.”
“Fair enough. But I still don’t see why you need to date her. So you knocked her up, who cares? Doesn’t mean you have to marry the woman.”
“It’s dinner, not a proposal... I’m saving that for the third date.”
“Don’t even joke,” she deadpans.
It irritates me that she’s always like this wherever Darcy is involved. I love how loyal and passionate Rebel is, but on this particular subject, I wish she’d just chill the fuck out.
“Well... listening to you bitch and moan about my life choices has been thrilling, but I’ve gotta split. I’ve got a date waiting for me.”
“Yeah, whatever, just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”
I refrain from losing my cool. I don’t want anything to put me in a bad mood for the evening ahead, so I let it slide. This time.
“Noted. A pleasure as always, Rebel. See ya.”
She makes a dismissive noise and then the line goes dead.
I get where she’s coming from, I really do. She’s picked up the pieces of my broken heart more than once, hell, more than ten times when I’ve gone through the worst of it, pining for a woman I couldn’t have.
But that was then and this is now. I can have her now, and it’ll take an army to stop me from doing exactly that.
“You ready?” Darcy’s voice behind me pulls me from my thoughts.
I spin in my chair, my reply getting lost as I take her in. She’s got on a light blue satin dress that make her eyes look fucking incredible and her body look sexy as sin.
“Woah.” The word comes out on an exhale.
“What?” she asks quickly, looking down at her outfit as though there’s something wrong with it.
“You look... woah.” I shake my head, at a loss for words.
Her cheeks colour a pretty light pink, and I crave a cigarette instantly. I need to calm my nerves. My heart is racing and my palms are sweating. I’m caught by those crystal blue eyes, locked in. I’m staring down the barrel of the rest of my life and it’s the single most terrifying sensation I’ve ever experienced. I need a hit of nicotine before I lose my shit – but I can’t. I gave up my casual smoking the day she moved in here.
Breathe.
This has to be perfect. I can’t fuck this up. I couldn’t survive losing her a second time.
Breathe.
“I can change if it’s too much.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I reply quickly. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” I get to my feet and take her delicate hand in mine. For a gesture so small and innocent, it still shocks me to my core. Her hand in mine sets me on fire, burns me from the outside in, until every inch of me is totally alight.
She bites her lip, clearly embarrassed by my compliment.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“Did I just hear you take a compliment without argument?” I tease.
I’ve been giving her a hard time about arguing with me any time I say something nice to her. She doesn’t have too many bad habits, but that’s one I can’t stand. She’s everything to me, and the fact that she doesn’t see it, or has been led to believe she’s not worthy, infuriates me.
Another thing I can blame my dipshit brother for, no doubt.
I’ll fix it in time. If she hears me tell her every day, everything I love about her, she’ll have no choice but to believe it herself.
She smiles – my favourite sight in the world – before rolling her eyes. “I guess so. This bossy guy keeps telling me off every time I argue. I figured it’s just easier to give him what he wants and do what I’m told.”
I refrain from groaning. I can think of a million different things that I want, and being ‘bossy’ and her doing what she’s told fits in all too well with most of them.
“Who knew it would be so easy to bend you to my will,” I reply, brow raised, insinuation clear as day.
A quiet moan slips through her lips and her cheeks blush deeper red.
I swallow deeply, I can feel my Adams apple bob in my throat.
I run the back of my finger slowly down the side of her face. “I think... that we better leave this house right now, before I get so carried away that I can’t.”
It’s her turn to swallow deeply now as she gently nods. “I think that might be wise.”
9
Darcy
“Cheers.” He holds up his mocktail glass to clink it against mine. “To us.”
I can’t help but laugh – he’s so rugged and manly, the fact that he’s holding a fruity, pink and orange drink that contains not a drop of alcohol but does have a pretty little pink umbrella in it, is hilarious to me. But he insisted.
I’m not drinking alcohol, so neither is he. Apparently, it�
��s as simple as that. I’ve just learnt that he doesn’t mind the occasional cigarette from time to time as well, but that he threw out the pack the day that I agreed to come and live with him.
I don’t know what I did to deserve someone so incredibly supportive in my life, but whatever it was, I couldn’t be more grateful.
Ryan is more than I ever could have imagined or wished for. It feels wrong to think it, because I doubt he’d like the comparison, but he’s all of Jacob’s good parts, mixed in with even more amazing qualities of his own. I’m struggling to find a flaw with the man.
“Anything else you’ve been secretly giving up out of sympathy?” I tease as he sips his drink and then looks at it in surprise.
He shakes his head. “Nope. Just the drink, smokes and my bike.”
He says it so causally it takes me a minute to register what he’s said.
He picks up his menu and starts glancing over it. “What do you feel like eating? No shellfish for us, you better add that to the list of things I’m giving up.”
“I’m sorry, can we just back up for a second here?”
He looks up and frowns at me. “You can’t have shellfish, princess, it said in the book. And no soft cheeses.” He frowns as he looks at the menu again, no doubt scanning it for soft cheeses now.
I giggle at the concerned look on his face. He’s so sweet, I almost can’t handle it. I found him reading a pregnancy book the other day – he looked so sheepish, as though I would have expected him to be an expert with no need for a book. Truth be told, he’s probably more informed than I am – I’m still living in a state of denial about how this baby is going to get out of me and into the world.
“Not about the seafood.” I shake my head in amusement. “About the bike.”
“What about it?”
“You don’t ride your bike anymore?” I push.
“Nah, I’m selling it, so I don’t want to tick up any more miles.” His focus shifts back to the menu. “The chicken sounds like a bit of me.”
“Ryan!” I half yell, half laugh. “Put the freaking menu down for five seconds. I know you’re hungry, but I need to know why the hell you’re selling your bike. I thought you loved that thing.”
He looks at me as though he doesn’t understand my confusion but sets the menu down on the table. “Because I’m going to be a dad,” he replies, as though it should be obvious to me.
“What does being a dad have to do with you not riding a bike?”
“Everything, Darce.” He meets my gaze, and I melt at the tenderness there. “I haven’t ridden that bike since the day you told me you were pregnant. Those things are a death trap, I’ve got responsibilities now – a family to take care of. I don’t want to take that kind of risk for a thrill.”
I don’t know if I’m overwhelmed by his total dedication to me and our baby, or if it’s pure pregnancy hormones, but I feel my eyes turn glassy.
“Don’t you dare cry,” he warns me, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
I think it’s too late to be stopped, but I try and blink back the tears that are threatening to spill over in the middle of this crowded restaurant.
“I know it’s over the top and stupid, and I know plenty of parents still ride, but I’m happy to give it up. It’s nothing to me. Plus, I know you hate them.”
He’s right, I’m not a fan of bikes, they seem so fast and dangerous, but I don’t recall ever telling him that. It confuses me sometimes; he knows things about me that I have no recollection of ever talking to him about. We’ve barely even had any real conversations, just small talk at events before he left Steele Industries, and very few other occasions after that.
“Will you take me for one last ride?”
I don’t want him to sell the bike – it’s part of who he is, and who he is, is pretty great. So if I can get him out on it again, with me, maybe I can convince him that it still has its place is his life – used sensibly of course.
“You want to go for a ride?” he asks, already smirking.
“Hey! I ride,” I reply, trying my best to sound sassy and convincing.
He laughs. “I bet you’ve never ridden on a bike in your life.”
“Well, you’d be wrong.” I resist the urge to poke my tongue out at him. “I went on a bike when I was ten years old one time at a carnival.”
That only makes him laugh harder. “That doesn’t count, Darce.”
“Well then maybe you better take me out so I can tick it off my bucket list.” I smack at his hand playfully. He’s full-on laughing at me now.
“Well, you’ve given me no choice.” He makes a show of wiping amused tears from his eyes. “Where do you want to go?”
“The beach,” I reply without even having to think twice. “Take me to the beach please.”
“The beach it is, princess.”
I honestly think I could have said I wanted to go to the moon, and he would have promised to make it happen just as easily.
He picks up his menu again, and this time I don’t disrupt him from finally being able to choose what he wants to eat. I just watch. I memorise all the little faces he makes, the rise of his left eyebrow as he reads. The way his Adam’s apple bobs as he sips his drink. The way he cracks his neck every so often, how he turns the silver ring through his lip... all the little things that make him, him.
I’m starting to fall for this man, I realise.
I can’t even believe it’s happening, after everything I’ve been through, I honestly never thought I’d feel anything close to love again, and certainly not this soon, but I have feelings for Ryan. Real, genuine feelings, and more than that, I can’t picture my future without him anymore.
I can see our baby crawling through hallways and pulling things off shelves, and when I imagine that, I imagine it in his house. His hallways. His shelves. The three of us together.
“What are you going to get?” he asks me, breaking me from the best daydream I’ve ever had.
I shrug my shoulders and feel my cheeks blush. I’ve had the menu in front of me for several minutes now, but the only thing I can think about tasting, is him.
I glance at my reflection in the full-length mirror. These tight, black jeans aren’t going to fit me for much longer, so I’ll be damned if I don’t get an appropriate amount of wear out of them before that happens. They’re the only pair I’ve got that can make my ass look half decent and, for all I know, they’ll never fit again.
I grab my leather jacket off the bed and leave the room.
I might never have been for a real ride on the back of a motorbike, but I’m pretty sure I look the part at least.
Maybe if I try to look and act like a badass, Ryan might be less likely to treat me like I’m made of glass. Maybe he’ll handle me the way he did that first night we were together.
A flood of warmth blooms in my belly just thinking about it. But that’s all I’ve done – think about it.
All thinking and absolutely no action.
Our dinner on Tuesday was perfect. Hands down the best date I’ve ever been on in my life. Ryan was sweet, charming, funny, and he looked like a god. The only thing missing was a real kiss. He hasn’t kissed me again since that day in the kitchen. Sure, he walked me to my bedroom door and gave me a sweet peck on the lips, but I want more. I’m craving more.
My body, my mind, my heart... it all wants more.
“Fucking hell.” I hear his choked voice behind me, and I spin around to find him stalled in the doorway.
Still channelling my inner badass, I do nothing but raise a brow at him in question.
“Those things should come with a warning label.” He’s staring at my ass.
His eyes sweep me up and down again.
“You like?” I ask as I slip on my jacket and strut towards him.
I watch as he swallows deeply, his head bobbing up and down with a nod. This must be what it feels like to be him on a daily basis – to wield your sexuality like a superpower. He makes me turn into a ball o
f mush and hormones more often than I’d care to admit, but it seems like now it’s my turn to hold the reigns.
“You look incredible.” He growls as I pass by him, my shoulder brushing his arm intentionally.
I give my hips a little more sway than usual on my way to the front door. “You coming?”
I hear him groan.
I like this. This is fun. I haven’t felt the power of having a man eating out of the palm of my hand in a long time. Since before Jacob. I changed when I was with him, and it’s only been recently that I’ve realised just how much. I used to be playful, fun, confident... whereas with Jacob, I became... compliant.
The scary part is that I’m not even sure how I allowed that to happen. I guess I was infatuated with him – more specifically, the idea of him. I wanted to please him.
I pause outside, the sight of the huge, shiny bike parked in the drive making me rethink this whole idea. It’s massive. I can’t imagine even being able to get on that thing without assistance.
“Where’s all that sassy confidence gone now, princess?”
His warm breath at my ear startles me. I hadn’t heard him come up behind me.
“That’s a big bike.”
He chuckles.
“I’ll look after you, just slide your arms around me like this...” He slips his arms around my middle, and my stomach flutters with butterflies. “And hold on tight.” His mouth is at my ear again, sending shivers racing up and down my spine.
I wonder if it’ll ever stop being like this, or if his touch will always be able to excite me this way – set my body on fire and make my head spin.
“The beach is waiting, Darce.”
It’s only then that I realise he’s circled around to the front of me and I’m standing here, eyes shut like an idiot.
My lids fly open, my cheeks heating.
He chuckles again, a smirk settling on his lips. So much for the idea of him eating out of the palm of my hand. Hell, at this point, I’d eat off the floor for this man. It’s a real new low for me.
He doesn’t say another word, just takes my hand and leads me to his bike. I stand still as he fits a helmet on my head and adjusts the strap.
The First Rule: A Standalone Second Chance Romance Page 7
