Creak.
Screw this. I’m not a victim. I can’t just sit here and wait. If they wanna come into my house and fuck with me, I’ll show them who’s boss. Knifing up in the chair surprisingly fast for a pregnant chick, I aim my gun at the black figure standing next to the kitchen table. “Freeze, motherfucker!” Spewing venom, I cock the gun. Click.
The silhouettes’ thick arms shoot in the air before stumbling over the nearest chair and knocking it on its side. “Fuck!” a familiar voice booms. “Put the gun away,” he then demands, righting himself and the chair on four legs.
Decocking the firearm, I re-lay it on the end table, expelling a shaky breath. Fingers trembling. “What the hell are you doing sneakin’ into your own cabin at—” I peer at the glowing numbers on the microwave. “Two-fifteen in the damn morning. And where’s Rosie?” Some bodyguard she is. There’s a perp in the house, and she hasn’t gotten up to check.
Sauntering to the lamp beside my seat, Ryker pulls a toggle. Bright light floods the space. The shock’s instant. Blinking rapidly, I combat the colorful, floating dots obscuring my vision. It doesn’t help all that much. Propping my glasses on top of my head, I rub my eyes. Blink. Rub. Then reset my frames where they belong. Better.
Kicking off his boots, Ryker drops heavily onto the couch, rumbling a long, border lining erotic groan. “Why are you up? You’re not sleeping in the livin’ room, are you? ‘Cause I can’t allow that.”
Give me a break. Allow?
There he goes again. Digging under my skin. Not in the pleasant kinda way. In the way that makes me wanna stab him in the eye with an ice pick. Do they even sell those anymore? If they don’t, I’ll buy vintage. Make it bloody. Maybe even Snapchat it to Dad. We could laugh about it later.
Rolling my eyes dramatically, I briefly lift my Kindle high enough for him to see. “I’m reading. Is that something you can’t allow as well?” I snark.
Reclining on the sofa, he tucks an arm behind his head and crosses his ankles. Ryker’s shirt rides up a smidge, revealing a strip of tight abs and a dark treasure trail. I’m not gonna look to see if his V’s showing, or what brand of boxers he’s wearing. So don’t ask. It’s hard enough to stay feisty when you’ve got muscles that fine to stare at. This must be the temptation guys feel when girls wear low cut tops. Don’t worry. I’ve got willpower and years’ worth of resentment to keep me from falling for his hot bod—again. No more moments of weakness.
“Do you look for reasons to fight with me?” he counters.
Throwing a blanket across my legs, I get comfortable. “I don’t like fighting with anyone. I never have.”
Ryker’s brows pinch, gaze narrowing. “Are you wearing my clothes?”
Harrumphing, I rest my arms on top of my bump, chin held high. “If it’s any of your business. Yes.”
“They look good on you.” He winks.
I frown, ignoring the niggling ache in my cheek. Kade said he’ll remove the sutures in a few days. “What are you doing here? And why isn’t Rosie already beating your ass for sneaking into your cabin?”
“I texted Rosie to let her know I’d be home late. And I’m here because the girls start school in the morning and I didn’t wanna chance missin’ it.”
Refusing to acknowledge what that tidbit of information is doing to my innards, I slip into a more comfortable subject. “They found out both our dads are their grandpas today.”
“I know. Kade was blowin’ up my phone with videos. Red glittery nail polish? What a sucker.” The amused grin he pops brightens his entire face, reminding me of the man I used to know … and love.
Ryker’s happiness catches, and I find myself smiling to match. “Did he tell you the girls asked if you were their uncle, too?”
He chuckles, accentuating the laugh lines around his gorgeous blues. “Yeah. He said you both changed the subject. There’s no rush to tell them anythin’, Kat. I’m not gonna pressure you. I made my bed. And for what it’s worth, I’m gonna lie in it until ya tell me to get up.” Scratching his stomach, Ryker’s shirt hikes up to his belly button.
Genuinely relieved by his level of maturity, I drop my head back on the cushion, stare at the rustic beams, and unleash a tension-laced sigh I didn’t realize I was harboring. A horse sized burden lifts off my shoulders, dissolving into thin air. Jesus. I needed to hear that almost as much as I need my next breath. “Thank. You.” A rock of emotion clogs my throat. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Anytime, Tiger, and I mean that. While you’re here, I’m gonna be around as much as I can. Between the club and Vanessa, I know it won’t be as much as I want. But I missed enough of Roxie and Scarlett’s life. It’s time to start makin’ up for it. That’s why I’m gonna drive ‘em to school tomorrow. And the bus will bring ‘em home. They’ll drop ‘em right in front of the lane. It’s safer that way. Then, in the mornings, I’ll drive ‘em again. If I can’t, there will be someone here who will.”
A spastic hummingbird flutters in my chest. “You don’t have to do that. I can take them.” I’m giving him an out. One I hope he doesn’t take—for their sake. I want them to know their dad. Even if he’s not worthy of them. He could be. Eventually.
“Nonsense. It’s not safe, and you’re pregnant. You need to rest, so you and our daughter can stay healthy. You’ve had enough stress to deal with. It’s the least I can do. Besides havin’ you stay in the cabin.”
“Which is beyond amazing,” I praise, scanning my dream cabin before returning my attention to Ryker, whose eyes dip shyly, cheeks kissed by flames.
He chews the side of his lip. “I—I'm glad you approve.”
Noticing he’s bizarrely uncomfortable with my admiration, I ask, “Where’d you get the ideas from? None of this has prefabricated catalog written on it.” Sweeping my hand, I indicate the vast splendor.
Stroking his short goatee thoughtfully, Ryker’s ink covered forearm dances with each movement. “Lots of research, I guess.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Took lots of years to get it this nice. Had to replace the floor three times because of the weather. I’d get the walls built, and we’d get some big storm that’d destroy the tarps I used to keep the elements out. At least we don’t get snow like you. It could’ve been much worse.”
“Did you know you wanted to turn your bedroom into a shrine?” I blurt. Then slap my hand over my mouth, regretting the dumb words the instant they spill.
Ryker jerks as if I struck him. A grimace pinches his strong features.
“I’m so sorry,” I add, guilt eating me from the inside out. I’m such a bitch. Why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut? Let it go. He had to know I saw the pictures. If he wanted to discuss them, he would have. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Abruptly looking away, like he can’t stand the sight of me, Ryker shoves his shirt back down to his belt line. “They’re in my bedroom, Kat, because I wanted to sleep with my family. It hurt too much to place them around the house. To see you three all day long, staring back at me when I eat or watch TV. Call it what you want. A shrine. A pathetic alter to the woman I fell in love with the first moment I saw her. I don’t give a fuck. For the longest time, it was the room I went to, to punish myself. I’d sit on the bed and drink half a bottle of Jack until I passed out, feelin’ guilty for leavin’ you and my kids. I know it was hard for you. I’ll never be able to take it back. But it slowly fuckin’ killed me.” Curling onto his side, facing the back of the couch, Ryker shuts me out. “I think it’s time you go to bed. I’ll see you when we take the girls to school,” he mutters solemnly, pounding the guilt I’m already feeling a whole lot deeper.
Nodding, even though he can’t see, I scoot awkwardly off the giant chair and set my Kindle on the table. Knowing I can’t let this fester all night or neither of us will sleep, I take the blanket I was using and drape it over Ryker’s prone body. Pecking the side of his head twice, I let the second one linger a bit.
“I’m sorry. The pictures are lovely. I didn’t mean to offend you,” I whisp
er, drop another kiss where I left the others, and leave him be. I’ve done enough damage for tonight.
Ryker
Flippin’ another pancake outta the pan with badass flare, it flops onto the dish I’m holding. Roxie and Scarlett cheer and my world gets a whole helluva lot brighter for it.
“Again!” Scarlett encourages, bouncing on her seat, all ready for her first day of school, sportin’ a glittery pink top and jeans. I found out today my girls have a thing for Converse. Between the two of them, they have six pairs. Three each.
To appease my daughter, I show off my skills with the twirl of the spatula and a flying flapjack that lands slightly off-kilter on its fluffy brother. Two pancakes down, I set those in front of Scarlett, pour a generous helping of syrup just how she likes, and top it with a pat of butter and a swirl of canned whipped cream. The same brand I used to enjoy licking off their mother. Mmmm … those were the days.
Scarlett mutters her thanks around a bite of pancake.
“Sorry I forgot to get bacon for ya,” I remark.
“It’s okay,” Roxie says as I pour two large pancakes into the pan to make her breakfast. At the clubhouse, it was Rox who got served first so I’m changing it up to keep it fair. See, I’m not a total moron. I’m down with the dad shit.
This morning, I may have turned off Katrina’s phone alarm so I could get up with the girls and she could sleep in. I reset it for an hour later to give her enough time to wipe the sleep from her eyes, and dress for us to leave. I wanted to savor this mornin’ with the girls, and after last night, my insides are raw as fuck. Kat sure knows how to bring a man to his knees. I barely slept a wink. Too busy replaying her words, guilt gnawing its way through my gut. By five, I gave up on sleep altogether and went for a two-mile run. Did a hundred pushups and enough crunches my abs are still on fire. It’s not as hard as it is for some to keep a body like this. But it’s not easy either. Instead of eatin’ pancakes, I’m havin’ a chocolate protein shake and six egg whites. It’s not the most appetizing, but I don’t think I could keep all the sugar down anyhow.
Waddlin’ out of the mouth of the hallway, hair mussed, still adorably half asleep, wearin’ my clothes, Kat shuffles over to the island and sits on the stool beside Roxie. “Mornin’.” She yawns behind her hand, head lethargically bouncin’ forward. There’s a pillow crease on her cheek.
She’s fuckin’ gorgeous.
I lift the spatula in greeting. “Mornin’. You sleep well?”
“That’s the nicest, most comfy bed I’ve ever slept in.”
Her appreciation soaks to the bone, fillin’ me with pride. Hell yeah. I did somethin’ right. Bought a mattress I knew she’d love.
Dazed, Kat rakes me with her confused gaze, turns, and does the same to our daughters. “Wait. Why are you dressed? And more pancakes, really?” Flickin’ her eyes to the microwave clock, they widen. “We have to leave in less than half an hour. Why am I just wakin’ up?”
She peers up at me, jaw set. It’s cute, her bein’ pissed in the mornin’, barely able to keep her eyelids open. She can bust my balls all she wants, ‘cause I’m not gonna apologize for spendin’ alone time with my kids and lettin’ her sleep in. She needs rest. Just as I need to bond, without her present. Not that I don’t want her around. I do. But, what I don’t need is snide remarks and judgment. Or, her sexy body distractin’ me, gettin’ Ryker Jr riled up when he’s not gonna get any.
Brushin’ her anger off with a shrug, I finish Rox’s pancakes with the same badass flourish as before and set them in front of her. I pour less syrup on top and forgo the butter, ‘cause that’s how she likes it. I remember these things. The whipped cream’s last, and I go crazy until I’ve got all three of my girls gigglin’ hysterically and a plate stacked with a mountain of white foam.
“That’s enough.” Rox holds her stomach, laughin’ so hard there are tears streamin’.
My love’s not fairin’ much better. Her face is red, eyes glistening.
Scarlett, the naughty little shit, swipes at the whipped cream with her fork, stealing some. Cracking a sly grin, she stuffs the entire pile into her tiny mouth, lookin’ like a chipmunk
Rippin’ off a paper towel from the roll next to the stove, I reach across the counter and swipe the leftover mess from Scarlett’s lips. Kat gasps a weird noise, and I freeze, the towel still touchin’ Scarlett’s mouth. Fuck. Did I do somethin’ wrong?
Scarlett, oblivious to the strangeness suddenly hangin’ in the air, snatches the paper towel from my hand. “Thanks,” she says, and dives back into what’s left of her breakfast.
Rox, cute as a button in her blue hoodie and jeans, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail she did herself, looks between me and her mom. There’s no need for her to be brought in to our drama. They’ve got enough to handle, ya know, with movin’ and startin’ a new school. That’s a lot for kids to deal with. And they’ve not complained once.
“Go on and eat. We gotta leave soon.” I slide her fork closer. She mutters her thanks, and shovels what’s left of the whipped cream onto Scarlett’s plate. Who devours it with youthful exuberance. My kids are too damn cute for words.
I turn my attention to Kat, who’s starin’ at me funny. “Why don’t you go get dressed, so we can take the girls to school.”
Nodding once, seemingly at a loss for words, she climbs off the stool and goes about her business. At least she’s not fightin’ me on it. For once. It’s a good thing, too. ‘Cause the last thing I wanna do is pop a boner in the kitchen with my kids present. It’s bad enough I’ve been half-hard since Kat sat her sleepy ass on that stool, well rested and adorable as hell.
“You got your backpacks and supplies ready to go?” I ask, loading the dishwasher.
“Yes. Grandpa Ghost got us everything we need already,” Rox replies.
I load the cups from the sink from their dinner last night. Kade said they had pizza and two liters of soda to wash it down with. “Good man. I put money on your lunch accounts yesterday, so you’ll be set to get whatever ya wanna eat.”
“Why would you do that?” Peering up at me expectantly, Scarlett slides her empty plate across the countertop.
“’Cause that’s what family does. We take care of each other.” And I’m your dad, so it’s my job.
Scarlett shoves Rox in the shoulder, knocking her off balance. “See. I told you he’s family.”
Rox scowls at her sister. “I didn’t say he wasn’t. I said he’s not our uncle. Mom and Uncle Kade said he wasn’t. Remember?”
“Oh. Then what is he?”
Alright. This is about to get uncomfortable quick. Time to change the subject. I clap my hands together. “How about you go get both your backpacks, Scarlett, while Rox finishes her breakfast.” I sideways glance at the clock. “We’ve gotta rock-n-roll in five.”
“Okay.” She jumps off the stool as happy as can be and skips down the hall, blonde locks swayin’.
Rox licks syrup from the tine of her fork, deep in thought. “I know who you are,” she utters, starin’ at her plate. “I promise not to tell Scarlett or Mom I know. It’d make Mom unhappy.”
Fuck.
Fuuuck.
“Wh-what is it ya think you know, baby girl?” I sputter, hands tremblin’. I hide them behind my back. Way to go, dumbass. Actin’ twitchy is a sure fire way to eradicate suspicion. Not… I all but confirmed what I know she’s about to say.
Goddammit! Kat’s gonna murder me and help Rosie bury my corpse.
Glancing over her shoulder, Rox dips her head low and covers her mouth with her hand, so her voice doesn’t carry. “You’re my dad,” she whispers.
Jesus. The kid pulls no punches. Though, it feels damn good to be called Dad for once.
Backed into a proverbial corner, I’ve got two choices. Deny deny deny. Or, do the right thing and tell my girl the truth.
Restin’ my elbows on the countertop, inches from Rox’s face, I hook a finger under her chin and tilt it up for her to look me straight on. He
r eyes are glassy. Lips red from chewin’ ‘em. With one hand, she scratches her arm anxiously. Yeah. I can’t lie. Not with those round, trustin’ eyes starin’ into mine, beggin’ for the truth—for a dad. For me. Swallowin’ thickly, I ask, “You wanna tell me how you came to that conclusion before your sister and mom get back?”
“Mom doesn’t know, but I looked in the box under her bed once. She’s got pictures of you there. I recognized you at that place we stayed.” She touches the side of her face. “I look like you. Even more than Scarlett does. And we both have your eyes. The same ones Uncle Kade and Papa have.”
Checkin’ the coast is still clear, I cup her cheek. She leans into the touch, on the verge of crying. “I fu—messed up. Your mom doesn't want you to know who I am, yet. She’s gotta trust me first. But, don’t you worry. I’m not goin’ anywhere ever again. You get that?”
Her precious bottom lip wobbles, socking me in the gut. “Don’t cry, baby girl.”
“I never had a dad,” she mumbles, taking a deep, quivering breath. A lone tear trickles down her cheek, and I catch it with my thumb.
Emotions grip my throat, refusin’ to ease. “No more of that. I’m not goin’ anywhere. This’ll be our little secret. You ever wanna talk about it, or ask me somethin’, you can. I’m your dad. I may not be the best dad. But I’m gonna try to be. You good with that?”
“Come on, Mom! Ryker doesn’t care if you wear lipstick!” Scarlett yells, exasperated. The stomping of her foot echoes off the walls. “We’re gonna be late!”
Rox and I share an amused look. I drop my palm as we crack dual grins. “Mom’s gonna be so mad. She hates when Scarlett gets like this.”
“Are you like that?” Drawing back to stand upright, I arch a teasing brow and wink.
Rox shakes her head, her grin curving into a charming ear-to-ear smile. “Never. I know better. Mom’s gonna skin her hide.”
Hopeful Whispers Page 18
