by Barbara Lohr
Ryder squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, you doing all right?”
“Sure. I’m fine.”
“Good.” He tugged her closer.
She knew every hollow and ridge of this man’s body. And despite their weird situation, she wanted him in the worst way. Phoebe moved restlessly.
“Anything wrong?” Ryder asked.
“Nothing. Everything’s good.”
“Glad to hear it.” He kissed the top of her head.
Just like that. The way he had in the past.
Kate caught the gesture and raised her brows. Phoebe turned her attention back to the parade while her heart galloped inside.
After the restaurants came the politicians from the towns along Red Arrow Highway. More candy spiraled through the air. Parents watched carefully to make sure the children didn’t get too close to the floats.
Parents and kids. Sun hot on her shoulders, Phoebe felt an icy hand squeeze her heart. When she married Ryder, they'd agreed to wait to have a family. Sometimes she regretted that. Would it have made any difference? They both wanted children, just not then. Phoebe had been an only child, and she’d enjoyed being the total focus of her parents’ lives. Maybe she felt the same about Ryder back then. She wanted to enjoy their time together, and he was in no hurry either.
Comfortable resting against his strong body, she felt like warm taffy. If only their lives could just twine together, the way they were before. If only Trixie hadn’t happened. But it had. She had.
Did Ryder still want a boisterous family? She had no clue. Once upon a time, they’d talked about having a slew of kids. Ryder seemed to expect that.
Just not now. Then not now became never.
~.~
Ryder studied Phoebe while she watched the parade. The sun was shining and it felt so good to have her tucked under his arm. But she was in a funny mood today. Smiling one minute and then giving him a hard time the next. Right now? She’d fallen into a funk. Watching her expression darken, he gave her a little squeeze. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She ran a hand down her cute little flag shirt. Drove him crazy––the shirt and the woman. “Just having fun looking at all the kids.”
“Right. Wait until their family gets those dental bills.”
“Spoilsport.” Phoebe sounded pissed off. Was she tired of having him around? Maybe Stanley’s wooing idea wasn’t going to work. Damn.
Ryder could hardly look at Phoebe in that outfit without wanting her. More than one guy had given her the eye. Ryder fixed them with his icy stare, the kind of look that made his dad laugh. The guys backed off.
At least Cole had been decent to him, talking about the development of Gull Harbor. How much did her friends know, and what did they think of him? Ryder wasn’t one to care about other people’s opinions. But when it came to Phoebe? Yes, he wanted to be seen as a man who kept promises. He wanted to say, “Hey, look. I made a terrible mistake. Before then, I was a normal, good man like you.”
But that was crazy. He could almost hear his dad in his head. Buck up, boy. Ryder straightened his shoulders.
The little kids running into the street made him nervous. Children. The past washed over him, bringing back the discussions they’d had about a family. Their family. When they got married, Phoebe wanted to go right into parenthood. Said she was feeling like a “fertile turtle.” He smiled, remembering.
But he'd held back. “Let’s just put that on the back burner, okay?” Back then he had called most of the shots, and it embarrassed him now to think about it. What the heck had he been waiting for? He was twenty-eight at the time and not ready.
Back then, he felt too young. Now he felt ancient. Thirty-one with no wife or children on the horizon. He only wanted one woman, and apparently no matter how hard Ryder or his dad tried, he couldn’t have her.
Ryder felt majorly messed up. Like he was playing a role but didn’t know the script.
The parade passed by. The band faded into the distance, and the whole town took a deep breath. Another Fourth of July. Where would he be this time next year? He didn’t even want to think about it. Uncertainty churned in his stomach. People began to wander off, some filtering into the shops and restaurants.
Phoebe waved to Sarah and her mother. “Sarah! Sarah, over here.”
Seeing Sarah with two small kids and her mother was almost painful. What happened to Jamie shouldn’t happen to any family. No family should be without their father. And Jamie had been one of the best. Although Ryder had grown up in Bridgman, their team played Gull Harbor in football. Jamie had been one heck of a running back. If it weren’t for that land mine in Afghanistan, he’d be standing here, mustered out this summer.
The crowd had thinned and Sarah crossed the street. “Did you see the parade? Wasn’t that terrific?” She always wore a smile. Both her kids clutched a bag of hard candy. But underneath those smiles, Ryder thought he saw confused sorrow. In a way, he knew how that felt. Sometimes life could get all screwed up. Suddenly you looked around and didn’t know why things had turned out so badly.
Phoebe pushed away from him, and Ryder felt the loss of her sweet body.
“I’m feeling sticky,” she said, pulling her top away from her curves. “You are a walking furnace.”
“Trust me, only where you’re concerned.”
She swatted at him but looked pleased.
“Can we go to the Swirly Top for ice cream?” Natalie asked, stretching her neck to see the big cone marking the stand on the corner.
Kate’s eyes circled the group. “I'm for that. Phoebe?”
“You bet.” Bouncing on her crutch, Phoebe started to move into the empty street.
Hustling up behind her, Ryder took her elbow. “Someone could run into you.”
Swinging forward, she tossed her head. “I'm fine.”
Diana linked her arm through Phoebe's. “Besides she's got big fat mama here”—Diana pointed to Kate—“and me.” So with pregnant Kate leading the way, they all headed to the Swirly Top.
Seeing the women with their heads together made his gut clench. Was it paranoid to think they were talking about him? Probably yes. Trying to relax, he fell back with the guys.
When they reached the Swirly Top, the group squeezed around two picnic tables. Prissy stretched out beneath one of them while the guys took the food orders and went inside. Then it was back into the sun for fifteen minutes of watching Phoebe lick her cone. He polished his off in three chomps. But he’d ordered a small vanilla cone. Phoebe had the full twirl of chocolate and vanilla.
“So what are you doing this summer?” Phoebe asked Maisy. Now this teenager was going to be trouble. Ryder felt that in his gut.
The girl shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Oh, Maisy. That’s not true. You’re helping me with the store.” Diana seemed upset and Ryder couldn’t blame her. His eyes went to Will, who was studying the two women and looking helpless.
“Right. Folding stuff all day long.”
“Hey, I need someone to weed,” Phoebe said. “Volunteers welcome.”
To Ryder’s surprise the girl seemed to perk up. “If I come over, can I go to the beach?”
Glancing over at Ryder, Phoebe lifted her brows. He shrugged. “Your call. Not my decision.”
But he didn’t miss the satisfied look that swept her face. Had he just given the cottage away? Didn’t matter. What did he care about that house? He cared about the woman who lived there. “Sure, we can go to the beach,” he said. “Why not?”
Phoebe’s smile was his reward. The conversations moved along. These were women who talked over each other, and no one seemed to finish a sentence. They were all in a book group, as he recalled. But finally Phoebe wound down.
“You feeling okay?” She was starting to look a little tired.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She brushed a wisp of hair from her face. That crazy mauve color didn’t bother him anymore. But the hair was only one sign that Phoebe had changed.
She wasn’t the ca
refree, naive girl he’d run into at the Rusty Nail one summer night three years ago. That girl had been crazy about him. Now Phoebe had her life together. She had a circle of friends here in Gull Harbor. Oh, he might have been the drawing card when she moved down here. But today he could clearly see that she’d made a life for herself. She might not have any use for him.
The thought terrified him.
Chapter 16
Ryder was quiet on the way back to the cottage. After the commotion of the parade and friendly conversation, the silence bothered Phoebe. In fact, it made her downright twitchy. “Did you have fun today?”
“Sure. Of course.” But the words came reluctantly. “You have a great group of friends.”
“Yep, I do.” The book group meant everything to her. Then it hit her. “But you don’t know most of them, do you? Diana, Kate, Mercedes. They’re all new here.”
Suddenly that one-year gap felt like the Grand Canyon between them.
“You’re right. I don’t know them. But they seem like good people. Nice husbands too. Cole’s got a good head on his shoulders.” He chewed his lower lip.
“So what’s wrong?” That lip biting thing? She recognized it. Ryder had looked like this the time Stanley got the flu and couldn’t shake it. Something was wrong.
Ryder tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “They seemed so settled. The other couples, I mean. Not that we’re a couple.” The last words came out twisted and fast.
Phoebe saw his point. Was Ryder feeling the same way she did? That the whole world was moving along, except for her? Them?
But there was no “them.” She had to keep reminding herself. “I guess they are settled. Diana and Will just got back from their honeymoon. Kate and Cole are going to have a baby.” Her voice softened on the word.
“Do you ever think about that, Phoebe?” He caught her eyes in the rearview mirror.
The wonder in his voice? She’d never heard that before. “What? Do I ever think about having a baby?”
“Right. Babies.” His eyes went back to the road but not before she saw the cloudy gray.
“Sure. We used to talk about it, remember? A family.” For her, that’s what it was. Any woman could have a baby. But a family? With all members present and accounted for? Not so easy, as she’d found out. “Of course I want a family one day. But back then, we made that decision...
“The wrong decision.”
Had she heard right? “What did you just say?”
Ryder cleared his throat. “I said, I made the wrong decision. Seems like I was doing a lot of that back then. Calling the shots. Not knowing what I was doing or how it might affect you.”
Who was this man? “Gee, Ryder. I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
His broad shoulders shifted. “We should have talked about it more. Thought it over and looked ahead.”
Maybe Phoebe should stop right here. This sure felt like unexplored territory. Did she really want to go there?
Oh, what the heck. Why not. “But then there was Trixie.” She had to mention it, not knowing how long Trixie had been on the scene. Had he seen her at the Rusty Nail early in their marriage? Could that be possible? She’d never asked but now she had to know.
Ryder turned off the highway. Familiar white cottages came up along Lake Shore Road. Almost home but Phoebe didn’t want this conversation to end.
“Look, I know you might not believe this,” Ryder said, his jaw tight. “Trixie was never anything to me.”
Was? “But she was to me. She ruined my marriage.”
Hunching over the wheel, Ryder radiated pain. A sick satisfaction swept through her. And then she felt terrible. Sure, there’d been so many times she wanted to hurt Ryder. Wanted him to feel the ache that had kept her awake nights. But that was stupid. Ryder had so many good qualities. No one is either bad or good. Her father had taught her that. And at the end of the day, she still loved Ryder.
She loved him.
Her whole body sagged and she clutched the edge of the seat. If Phoebe still loved Ryder, she was in big trouble.
By this time they were on Lake Shore Drive. Families with arms full of inner tubes and water toys were headed for the beach, full of holiday excitement. Cutting his speed, Ryder edged around them. Then his phone rang. Glancing at the console where he always left his cell, Ryder said, “It’s Stanley, Phoebe. Can you get it?”
“Sure.” Snatching the phone, she put the call on speaker. “Hey Papa, what’s up?”
“Phoebe? You surprised me, girl.” But Stanley sounded delighted. “I figured Ryder’s voice was changing again.”
Papa always loved to kid. “Nope. Your son’s driving. We were at the parade.” Ryder pulled into the driveway, cut the motor and reached for the phone.
“Gotta go, Stanley,” Phoebe said, handing the phone over. “Here’s your son.”
The smile Ryder wore looked forced. “Hey, Dad. Happy Fourth.” He clicked the call off speaker.
Ryder had always been careful to include his father in any holiday plans. That had been a given. The Christmases when they drove back to Escanaba? If Stanley wasn’t visiting his daughters, he came with them. Today was a holiday, and Phoebe had been so busy, she hadn’t even thought of Stanley. Phoebe tugged on Ryder’s shirt and mouthed, “Ask him to come for supper.”
Now, that did bring a smile, a real smile that reached Ryder’s eyes. “Hey, Dad. We’re grilling brats today. Want to come over?” Bratwurst was one thing Ryder knew how to cook. Oh, he hadn’t fooled her at all with the romantic dinners. That chicken last night? Had Stanley written all over it. Who else cooked a chicken with a beer can inside?
“Of course I’m going to cook,” Ryder told his father. “Don’t I always?”
Yeah, sure. Phoebe smiled as Ryder chortled. Whatever Stanley was telling his son, it made him cup the phone closer. Sliding from the Mini Cooper, Ryder came round and swung her door open. He raised his brows. “Can Stanley bring anything?”
“Potato salad?”
“Phoebe says potato salad,” he told his dad. “Of course you’ve already got it made. New potatoes and bacon, right?” What time, he mouthed to Phoebe, extending a hand to help her out.
“Six,” she said softly as he pulled her up. Phoebe loved this interaction between son and father. She’d missed it.
“Great,” he told his dad. “See you around six.”
Once she had her footing, Phoebe let go of his hand. But it felt imprinted on her palm. And she liked that.
Walking slowly to the house, Phoebe got a clear view of the pink siding. She circled the cottage. Ryder had finished three of the four sides. “Things are shaping up, Ryder.”
“Is that what you’d call this? Shaping up?” He wasn’t looking happy about all the work he’d done.
“What? You don’t like it?”
Shaking his head, he unlocked the back door. “I’m not a pink person, I guess.” He pushed it open.
The cottage isn’t for you. The words almost sprang from her lips.
But the truth was, after having Ryder around for awhile, it felt like theirs again. Their private place in the woods. After the trim was painted, the new flooring was laid and the leaks were all fixed, she’d be left with a house that had Ryder’s stamp on it. As he tossed the key on the table, Phoebe stood there wondering. Uncertainty hung in the air, a huge question mark. Since the night on the beach, they’d treated each other with care. Avoiding all physical contact. She missed it.
“Hungry?” Ryder asked, swinging the refrigerator open.
“Starving.”
Pulling out lunch meat, he began to make her a sandwich.
The homey action thickened her throat. Her accident had brought him back, a changed man. Phoebe saw that more every day. He wasn’t the guy with the slight swagger in his walk. Oh, he still exuded confidence. No change there. But in the past, Ryder sometimes took that over the top. Voice a little louder. Gestures almost grand. Not anymore.
He pushed the plate wi
th a perfect ham sandwich toward her. “Hey, what’s up, Phoebe? You look dazed or something. Feeling all right?”
“Huh? Well, I...” Words swirled in her mind. She wanted to be careful. “You’ve been real sweet to me, Ryder. Don’t know what I would have done without you. You know, my leg and everything.”
Reaching for the mustard, he gave her a look of disbelief. “I was glad to do it, Phoebe. You know that. Thank God I stopped by that day.”
“No, I don’t know that. Just like I don’t know why you aren’t with some other woman today.” There the question was out.
Setting the knife down, he scowled. “I don’t have a girlfriend, Phoebe.”
Could she believe him? “You don’t? What about Trixie?” She searched his gray eyes. All she saw was pain.
“She was history before we even got the divorce. I told you that.” Impatience frayed his words.
“Did you?” She thought back. He’d called, emailed and texted. She hadn’t read or listened to any of it. Like a lot of their relationship, there hadn’t been much talking. After Jen told her she’d seen Ryder at the Rusty Nail with Trixie being very cozy, Phoebe kicked him out.
With a rude snort, he squirted mustard onto the rye bread. Then it was time for the mayo. “You weren't listening to anything back then. And I don’t blame you.” His aim shifted and a stream of mayo splashed onto the table.
“Oh, Ryder.”
“Oh, Ryder. What? Yes, I took the flirting further with Trixie than I should have. I won’t deny that. Maybe I was just trying to prove something to myself. But it didn’t take me long to realize I’d made a huge mistake.” Turning, he flung his arms open. Pain etched his face. Ryder Branson looked helpless.
Coasting her hands up his arms, she rested them on his shoulders. The warmth of his body drew her closer. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t handle it back then. And I was so confused. So hurt. I didn’t know what was the truth and what wasn’t.”
His arms went around her. “Phoebe, I own that failure. I let you down big time, idiot that I was.”
“Yes, but I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Ryder lifted a brow. “You sure didn’t. And that was a first.”
