by Stacey Lynn
None of that happened though as I wandered through the house and took in the completely empty feel of the place. The house Bull had turned from a family home into a rotted out bachelor pad.
My heart ached for Liv and what she must have felt as she walked through these doors for the first time in five years only to find everything important to her, completely gone.
“Coffee?”
Ryker’s deep and husky morning voice brought my mind out of my wandering and back to the present.
“Sure, thanks.” I watched as he poured a cup of coffee. His back was to me and he was only wearing the jeans he’d worn the day before. The muscles in his back rippled with every small movement he made as he reached for a mug in the cabinet. When he turned, I looked away, somehow embarrassed I’d been checking him out in Bull and Cherry’s kitchen.
“Thanks.” I took a quick sip and looked around the kitchen. When Cherry was alive and Liv lived here, it was a bright lime green. A bright color completely at odds with the dark life she lived, but Cherry had always insisted on finding the happiness everywhere she looked. Now it was a dreary and drab gray color. “This is weird. Being here.”
With one fluid movement, he had an arm around my waist and pulled me into his lap at the kitchen table. Amazingly, not a single drop of coffee spilled from either of our mugs. He reached for my mug and set it on the table before he cupped my cheek in his hand.
“I thought we’d go do some shopping today. Get some things for the house and new furniture—whatever you want.”
I pulled my coffee to my lips and sipped. The fragrant aroma of caramel flavored coffee stung my nose. My favorite kind. I wondered for a brief moment if he knew that or if Jules or Liv played a role in procuring coffee for our new place.
His hand ran down my hair to my lower back and he hugged me tighter to him. “Are we going to talk about what happened yesterday?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I shook my head and ignored the questioning gaze I saw in his eyes. Why wasn’t I freaking out? Why wasn’t I upset? I assumed part of it was because I was still in shock over everything I’d learned and done. The other part simply didn’t care enough about either Cain or my mom to expend any further effort in thinking about them. They were gone, and I didn’t care where they went.
I opened my mouth to explain just that right as a blaring ring blasted from the pocket of his jeans.
His hands left mine immediately as he cursed. “I have to take this.”
In another second, I was unceremoniously plopped into an empty chair. Ryker turned his back to me and answered the phone.
“Meg?” he asked, his voice tight. I watched as he ran a hand through his hair before his shoulders tensed. “Are you okay?”
I tensed along with Ryker. Not from the concern he apparently had, but because of the way he stood, so tall and strong, and how his voice softened instantly as he exhaled. The way that, as he continued to talk to her, his voice lightened with quiet laughter, and he never once turned to me.
My focus went to my coffee mug as if it was the most important thing in the world. I wrapped my hands around the warmed ceramic, my thumbs rubbing up and down mindlessly as I tried to contain the jealous, dark tendrils that increased inside of me with each easy laugh that rolled from Ryker’s lips.
He kept his back to me, his shoulder braced on the doorframe of the kitchen that faced the four-season screened porch at the back of the house.
From his profile, I could see small laugh lines crinkle at the edges of his eyes. His lips were wide in an easy smile as he threw his head back and laughed at whatever Meg said to him.
His voice dropped further. He calmed and I watched as his entire body melted into the wood.
“Hey buddy,” his soft, deep voice rumbled into the phone. “I miss you, too.”
Something filled the air in the room as Ryker spoke. An intimacy or a pure love that was so vastly different than anything I had ever felt from him—or anyone in my entire life—I suddenly felt as if I was a voyeur, peeking in on someone’s most private moments.
It was the way Ryker tilted his head when he spoke, the way his brow pulled in as he listened to the boy I knew was Brayden as if he was the most important person in his entire life.
And I couldn’t help but feel envious of a boy I had never met and probably never would. I tilted back the ceramic mug, draining the hot liquid in a large swallow. The jealous tendrils in my veins spread until my body had been warmed from the coffee and the heat that spread through my veins.
I was jealous of a little boy.
I hated it, but it was the truth. Ryker had something with that woman and her son that I had never had. I had never had the chance to have it with him. He had a family.
Not by blood and not by marriage, but a family nonetheless.
My nose stung as I listened to Ryker soothe the clearly upset boy on the line. His calming tones were unequally matched with the wrinkles lining his forehead as he dipped his head, exhaled a breath, and shoved his hand through his hair.
“He’s not handling this well,” he snapped in a harsh tone. I watched as he swore and began pacing the four-season porch.
The room chilled to just below freezing while Ryker continued to argue with Meg. And then my world tilted on its axis as he confidently and assuredly said, “I’ll come back.”
My head dropped into my lap, and I released my harsh grip on the cold coffee mug. With one last look back at Ryker as he continued pacing the room—never once looking in my direction—I stared at the only man I’d ever loved and realized with finality that I wasn’t the only priority in his life.
It shouldn’t have stung as forcefully as it did, but my hand flew to my chest, pressing against the sharp-shooting pain lancing through me as if I had been shot.
I must have gasped, or done something, because from across the room, Ryker’s eyes flew to mine. His jaw clenched and he spoke through his teeth as he saw the twisted expression on my face.
It hurt. It made no sense.
Yet, I wanted him to be mine. All mine. And he wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
Slowly, he walked toward me, his voice soft and quiet on the phone. A deep line engraved between his eyebrows as his lips turned into a small smile. “Of course she’s coming with me. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
He reached me, and before I could pull away, Ryker’s hand went to my cheek. He tilted my head back and bent down, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.
It changed me. The way his eyes furrowed with concern, danced between both of my eyes, and then down to my hand still on my chest. He dropped his hand from my cheek and held his hand over mine. The pain dulled to a slow throb when Ryker, still listening to Meg on the phone, mouthed, “All yours.”
My jaw dropped as if suddenly unhinged as my mind whirled. How he knew me so well to read my mind at everything I was thinking or feeling without saying a word… stunned didn’t cover the sudden change in emotion covering me.
While he quietly said his good-byes to Meg, his hand wrapped around my fingers and he pulled me to my feet until my chest was pressed against his.
“Tell Brayden we’ll see him as soon as we can get there. But have him FaceTime me later.” His eyes stayed on mine, his lips moved gently across my temple, as he spoke before he clicked the phone shut and slid it into the back of his jean’s pocket.
“You’re worried.” He stated the words so simply as his hand snaked to the back of my neck and his fingers dug into my scalp.
I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth.
“You know, when you know you’re responsible for someone’s death, it changes you.” His eyes bore deeply into my own it felt as if he was connecting to my soul. His fingers dug into my hair. “Meg’s husband died because of my mistake on the rig one night.”
“And?”
He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the painful memory before he blinked and smiled down on me. “I promised I’d take care of them and I a
m.”
“They’re your family.”
“They might be,” he said, his lips lowering to my ear. His breath caressed my skin making it difficult to concentrate as he continued talking. “But you’re more important. Always will be. But it wouldn’t be right for me to leave them and never check on them again—never visit them again.”
“So you’re leaving.”
“No,” he said, as he pressed a kissed in that soft space below my ear. He laughed softly as I trembled in his comforting grip. “Is that what you thought?”
“You’re so… you seem so happy with them. More relaxed than you are with anyone else.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to talk around it. “Even with me.”
“And you thought I was leaving you?”
Everyone leaves. I couldn’t put a voice to the words though, too afraid he would pull away and that Ryker would see how big of a mess I still was.
“Jesus, Faith. I couldn’t leave you. For five years I tried to forget you—every day I had to fight to get you out of my mind. And now that I have you in my arms again, you think I’d do that to you?”
A shrug was the only movement I could muster before the tears spilled over. Stupid tears. Ryker made me cry more in the last few months than I’d cried in years.
“You’re a stubborn woman. You know that, right?”
Through my tears, I looked up to a smile on his lips. An easy smile as he laughed at my fears, but not at me. “I’ve been told,” I choked out right before his lips planted firmly to mine.
I breathed him in, the scent of his body wash and coffee, as his tongue pressed into my mouth and tangled with mine in a languid, fluid movement. Moaning into his mouth, I gasped for breath as my hands flew to his hips, pulling him and his hardness to me.
I wanted to ask for more—beg and plead for more—until he was so deep inside me he could erase my fears and my doubts. But when I tried, he pulled away, leaving me panting and gasping for breath.
He took my hand with a smile and tugged me down the hall. “Come on.”
My head spun back around and looked at where we had just kissed, confused and wondering where we were going. “Where?”
“I need Club ink. Maybe that’ll help prove I’m not going anywhere.”
Four hours of lying in a tattoo chair in Gunner’s GetInked2 tattoo shop and my back was killing me. Every buzz of the sharp needle pressed into my skin and vibrated down my spine. It stung like a bitch.
The doorbell above his front door chimed, but I barely heard it over the needle and the sudden laughter that entered the waiting area. From the mirror next to me, I saw Faith, Jules, and Olivia walking in, but all I cared about was Faith.
Her black hair whipped around her face as she threw her head back and laughed at whatever Jules said. Her hands were bogged down with large paper bags, which showed me their shopping trip had been successful.
A sharp sensation stung my chest as I watched her, my eyes couldn’t have moved if I’d tried. Faith was gorgeous. She was beautiful. More distant than when were younger, but more vulnerable at the same time. I didn’t blame her.
But watching her walk into Gunner’s tattoo shop, a smile on her face with armfuls of shopping bags of things she’d bought for our home… my chest swelled with an indescribable feeling of pride.
Or love.
I laughed to myself.
Who the hell was I kidding? It was definitely love.
“You need to take a break?” Gunner asked, pulling the needle away from my shoulder. I wouldn’t be able to sleep on my back for a week after this, which was fine because I had plans to spend a lot of time with Faith under me.
“How much more do you have to do?” At the sound of my voice, Faith stopped talking to Jules and her eyes met mine through the reflection in the mirror. They crinkled and she lifted one hand in a wave hello.
“Another hour. The outline’s done, but we still need to do more shading. I can finish the rest later.” He wiped away the stain of the ink and the blood from my shoulder blade.
“Finish what you can today.” I turned my head so I could greet Faith. “Get over here and hold my hand.”
Olivia laughed in the entryway. “I can do it for you, Ryker. I think I owe you the favor.”
No shit she did. My fingers stung at the thought of how tightly Liv had gripped my fingers weeks ago when she got her own tattoo.
“I barely survived the last time you held my hand, but thanks.”
She threw her head back and laughed. Faith smiled and pulled up a stool next to me. “You okay?”
“I’m good.”
Gunner laughed as he turned the ink gun back on. “Pussy’s had to take a break every twenty minutes.”
Asshole. I took one break. “I had to piss.”
“That’s what they all say,” he muttered, but I was already ignoring the man in favor of the beauty sitting in front of me.
She reached out and brushed a piece of my hair off my forehead before her eyes fell to my back. Gunner had outlined the entire Vikings skull and helmet all over my back. Across my shoulder blades in a Gothic script, he was writing Nordic Lords in all capitalized letters. It would take more than one, maybe more than two sessions, to complete the entire tattoo. I didn’t care how long it took.
Patching into the club, inking their name across my body, was only one of the ways I planned to let Faith know I wasn’t going anywhere.
She was stuck with me.
She chewed on her bottom lip, her nose crinkled as she watched Gunner run the gun slowly across my back. “You okay?”
“I’m good, babe,” I told her and squeezed her hand. Gunner hit the edge of bone on my shoulder blade and I hissed in a breath. “Except for when he hits bone.”
“Toughen up,” he muttered.
Faith’s quiet laugh at our banter took away any pain the tattoo gun could have caused.
“What’d you get at the store?” An hour after we got to Gunner’s, I had sent her away with Jules and Olivia so she didn’t have to sit and watch me get inked for half the day. Fuck if I knew it would take as long as it did.
But I was anxious… she had bought stuff for our house. Our home. Finally, it felt like shit was going right for us. It had certainly been fucked up for far too long. I figured we’d earned it.
Faith glanced around at the piles of bags in the entryway. Jules and Liv were sitting on a leather couch, kicked back and smiling like they had nothing else planned for the day.
“A blender, plates, more glasses… wine… beer…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. All sorts of things.”
My grin grew with every word she spoke. Her knee bounced quickly as she spoke and she played with a strand of her hair.
“Why are you nervous?”
She pulled her light blue eyes to me. “Liv wants to have a party tonight.”
“And?”
She shrugged, uncertain. “I think it’s weird… after last night and today. I don’t know.”
I squeezed her hand and nodded my head so she had to lean close.
“Keep still,” Gunner scolded.
“Bite me.” When Faith was close enough, I whispered, “Stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. We’re good. Life is good. Take a damn day and enjoy it, won’t you?”
Hesitantly, she nodded and then pressed her lips against mine. “I love you.”
“You too,” I answered seriously. My eyes glued to hers so she would absolutely have no fucking doubt how I felt about her. I knew she still questioned it, questioned everything that had happened, but someday she’d wake up and know I wasn’t screwing around on her. And I’d stick around until that happened—and every day after.
“All right, then. I should probably get going. I have a party to plan.”
I shook my head. “Stay with me. Let the girls do it.”
She looked back at Jules and Liv and then to me. I shook my head again. I watched her war with indecision but answered it for her.
“Hey, Liv,”
I shouted over the music, the needle, and the incessant girl chatter. “Faith’s staying with me ‘til we’re done here. Can you and Jules take care of everything for the party?”
Liv grinned. Jules stood up and clapped her hands together. “You bet!” they said in unison. They gathered up the bags and took off, mischievous giggles filtering through the air, as they hauled ass out of the tattoo shop with barely a wave and shout good-bye.
Faith sank back into the stool next to me. “Well, I guess that answers that.”
“Does it hurt?” Faith asked me. I had grimaced and groaned my way through sliding my T-shirt and leather vest back on after Gunner covered the tattoo with Vaseline and bandages.
“Like a thousand bee stings.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door.
“Yikes.” She made a face. One of sympathy, but it was over exaggerated and I couldn’t help but laugh at her. I couldn’t help but want to pull her to me and ravage her in the middle of the damn street because she was so damn beautiful and cute. Innocent and not at the same time. Light on her feet with a heavy burden on her shoulders. Such a beautiful contradiction, but it was all perfectly Faith.
I wanted it all. I yanked her to me, wrapping a hand around her waist when she stumbled into me. My other hand slide to the back of her neck.
“Kiss me.”
She didn’t hesitate. Our lips met and I instantly groaned as I tasted her bubble gum mixed with the sweetness that was simply Faith. My tongue licked her bottom lip before I entered her mouth. A growl of pleasure escaped the back of my throat as I swallowed her whimpers of pleasure. My dick instantly hardened. I rolled my hips and pulled her closer to me, letting her feel what she did to me.
“Jesus,” I said, pulling back and looking down at her. “I want you. All the fucking time, I want you.” My thumb brushed the pink tint to her cheeks. “How is that possible?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not going to argue with you.” Between her breathy voice that was soft and sexy as hell, and the wicked glint in her eyes, my dick hardened.”
I stepped back toward my truck, our bodies still connected as I nuzzled and tickled her neck with my chin. Her laughter vibrated against my chest.
