by Shelly Bell
Tristan summed up the difference between their previous models and this newest one. “The computer learns.” He smiled. “Amazing.”
That was one word for it.
Dangerous was another.
When Ryder had made his breakthrough with the code, he had gone back and forth on whether to use it in their designs. In the end, he, Tristan, and Isaac had decided so long as the code remained secret, there would be no harm.
But in the wrong hands, the coding could be used for far more nefarious purposes.
Military drones. Guns. Robotic soldiers.
It was coming. The military would eventually develop a code on their own. Ryder couldn’t stop it from becoming a reality. But no way in hell would he help them.
Watching as the kitchen went to work filling muffin tins with batter, he grew somber.
Isaac turned to him. “You’re absolutely certain that no one will be able to figure out how to replicate our software if they have access to it?”
Ryder paused. “We’ve done as much as we can to protect it. The code is closed source, so it won’t be made public, and we’ve already filed a patent for it. But even if anyone is able to access it, they won’t find it easy to understand. I intentionally wrote it in obfuscated code so that even the most capable of programmers won’t be able to crack it.”
At least that’s what he hoped.
“I would have loved to see Keane’s face when he realized the designs he stole left out the part of the code that makes technology autonomous,” Tristan said with a smile.
Ryder didn’t need to see. He had enough memories of an enraged Keane to imagine it.
“But there’s something that doesn’t make sense to me,” Tristan continued. “What does Keane hope to gain by competing with Novateur, especially if he’s unable to manufacture autonomous kitchens?”
That was the million-dollar question.
Why start a new division of McKay that was doomed to fail? And why make Jane VP of it?
Ryder inhaled the sweet scent of cake batter. “I don’t know yet. But I’m going to find out.”
* * *
A few minutes before he was set to meet Jane, Ryder locked the front door of Novateur and walked the couple blocks toward the restaurant. During the summer, the shops stayed open and the sidewalks were filled with people of all ages, but on a fall weekday like tonight, it was much quieter after sunset. He inhaled the scent of Italian food as he made his approach to the trattoria and glanced at the watch on his wrist. Right on time.
He couldn’t believe how much he had been looking forward to seeing her again or that only a few days ago, he hadn’t known that Maddox existed. Now he couldn’t get that pesky F-word out of his head.
Forever.
Hell, he felt like a teenager going on his first date, down to the sweaty palms and damned nervous knots in his stomach. Once inside, he was brought to their reserved table and slid into the black leather booth. When the waiter stopped by the table a few minutes later with a basket of freshly baked bread, Ryder ordered a bottle of red wine.
Twenty minutes later, the wine sat unopened on the table, he’d eaten the entire bread basket, and he was still waiting for Jane.
Maybe she was caught in traffic.
Maybe she’d gotten stuck at work.
Maybe she’d…
He checked his phone again. No missed calls.
His throat grew tight as he realized there was a strong possibility that Jane had stood him up. Disappointment washed over him. She’d given him the impression that she wanted him to be a part of her and Maddox’s lives. Had he read the situation wrong?
And then she was there, taking off her coat and collapsing into the booth across the table from him as if she was exhausted. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
He blew out a breath and sat back in the booth, releasing the tension in his body.
She’d obviously changed from her work clothes, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple jade sweater. Her hair was up in one of those messy bun things that some women spent forever making look like they hadn’t spent any time on, and she wore her glasses perched on her cute little nose. There were remnants of makeup still on her eyes, but her lips were natural and her cheeks were pink from the night air. For some reason, seeing her like this reminded him of how young she really was.
She couldn’t be more than twenty-three and she was already a mother. A single mother, raising her son—their son—practically all on her own.
“I didn’t think you were going to show,” he admitted as he uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass of the merlot. He looked her over. Her eyes were slightly red and her mouth was pinched with tension. “Are you okay?”
She wrapped her fingers around the stem of her wineglass. “I had a bad day at work. One of our employees—a programmer from my division—killed himself over the weekend. It’s taken a toll on everyone, including myself.”
“I’m sorry. Were you close?”
“No. It’s just—” Jane shook her head. “I’m sure it’s nothing. You don’t need to hear about my day. That’s not what this dinner’s about.”
She was wrong, but he didn’t bother correcting her. He wanted to know everything about her.
“Do you have a photo of Maddox?” he asked, his pulse racing in anticipation of seeing his son for the first time.
She laughed and rummaged through her purse. Once she had her cell phone in hand, she fiddled with the screen. “I have hundreds. Want to see one from today? He was quite proud of himself for spitting his medicine out all over me.”
His heart skipped a beat and he shot up tall in his seat. “Is he sick?”
She gave him a slight smile, letting him know she hadn’t missed the panic in his voice. “No. He has reflux—don’t worry, it’s not uncommon for babies—and the doctor put him on this awful-tasting stuff that I give to him in a syringe. Every once in a while, he spits it out. Today, he suddenly learned how to spit it out at me, so that we’re both covered in smelly medicine. He was pretty proud of himself.” She held her phone out to him, her hand trembling. “Would you like to see?”
At that moment, he realized how difficult this was for her, how much she feared his rejection, and it was like a kick to the gut to witness. He was an asshole for making her even doubt for a second how much he wanted them both.
Their fingers brushed as he took the phone from her hand, sending a jolt of lust through him that he felt like a tingle at the head of his cock. And all from a fucking innocent touch of their fingers. He’d had women sucking his dick who hadn’t gotten him this aroused.
There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to keep their relationship platonic. A fire like theirs didn’t burn that strong every day. She was a fucking unicorn in his world, one he intended to ride often and frequently.
But for now, he’d pretend tonight’s dinner was only about Maddox.
His eyes landed on the screen and his chest filled with pride.
He hadn’t been around a lot of babies and the ones he usually saw all looked the same to him, like bald wrinkled aliens dressed up in Easter pastels with no discerning features or distinct personalities.
But none of them had been his son.
Perfect was the first thing that came to mind.
Maddox was neither wrinkled nor bald. Like Jane, his son had a crown of curly brown hair, only much shorter. He had golden skin as if he’d spent a lot of time outside, but was more likely a hint of his Mexican heritage. Thank God she hadn’t dressed him in pastels. In the photo, he sat in some kind of blue seat that propped him up, wearing a Detroit Red Wings T-shirt, red sweatpants, and a mischievous smile.
But it was his gray irises that had Ryder gasping out loud as any lingering doubt about being Maddox’s biological father disappeared. A lump lodged in his throat. “He’s got the McKay eyes.”
Jane dropped her chin and shrugged. “Yeah, I felt pretty stupid when I realized you, Keane, and Finn all have the same eyes as my son and I never put it
together.”
“Why would you? You and I met miles away from here. And obviously, my father and brother never mentioned me to you.”
“No, they’ve both spoken about you, but they must not have used your name.” She tilted her head and frowned. “Huh. Keane doesn’t have any family photos in his office.”
While that fact seemed to confuse Jane, he wasn’t surprised. Keane had never been a sentimental man. “Of course not. That would mean he actually cared.”
“I’m sure that’s not why,” Jane said quietly.
He wasn’t going to start another argument about Keane. They’d just have to agree to disagree. At least for now. Otherwise, Jane would never believe it when Ryder started cozying up to his father. “Let’s not waste time talking about Keane. Tell me more about Maddox.”
She lit up, her smile widening and her eyes twinkling. “He’s brilliant. And I’m not just saying that because I’m his mother.”
For the next hour, in between dinner and glasses of wine, Ryder scrolled through hundreds of photos of Maddox and listened to Jane brag about their son. He’d missed so much. The first time he’d rolled over from back to front (he wasn’t sure why that was significant, but apparently, it was a big deal). His first smile (Jane swore it wasn’t gas). His first Halloween (he greeted trick-or-treaters as a bumblebee). And dozens of other memories that were lost to Ryder forever. Damned if he would miss another.
After she polished off a slice of tiramisu, he returned the phone to her. “Did you have a good pregnancy?”
“Mostly. I was pretty emotional. I mean, I think that’s normal. I’d burst into tears at the drop of a hat. Anything from one of those commercials about neglected dogs to breaking the tip of my pencil. My coworkers all kept boxes of tissue on their desk for me. Oh, and I got really huge. I wasn’t one of those cute girls with the perfectly round basketballs in the middle. Nope. I can’t tell you how many times women came up to me and asked when my twins were due.”
“I’m sure you looked beautiful.” Just the idea of her swollen with their child had him discreetly adjusting himself beneath the table. “It sounds like you must have been relieved to give birth.”
She sank her teeth into her lower lip. “That was…scary. I was actually driving to work when my water broke and the contractions started. Within an hour, I was ten centimeters dilated and ready to push. There was no time to process anything. It was like one minute I was all alone and then I blinked and I was a mother. You know?”
“I think I understand what that’s like.” Two days of knowing and he could barely wrap his mind around the idea of being someone’s father.
Her eyes widened. “I guess you do. You didn’t even get the nine months to process it.”
“I know what would help.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “It’s time to meet my son.”
ELEVEN
Jane was certain she had never been this nervous in her life. Twice she’d almost pulled over the car on the way to her apartment because her hands were shaking so uncontrollably. She didn’t understand it. So Ryder was going to meet Maddox? Why would that make her feel as if she was about to lose everything she’d eaten at dinner?
She took a deep breath as she parked her car in front of her building. Ryder had shown real interest in Maddox tonight. How many men would have patiently listened to her prattle on about her baby all through dinner? There had been pride in his expression as he went through all the hundreds of photos on her phone, especially when he realized they shared the same color eyes. But would that be enough for him to commit himself to becoming a real father to Maddox?
Guess she’d soon find out.
She met Ryder at the front of her building and led him inside to her second-floor apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Someday she’d buy a house with a large fenced-in yard where Maddox could chase after a ball and play on a swing set. She could afford that now, but for some reason, she was reluctant to do it. Maybe it was because part of her hoped when she finally did buy a home, it would be with her husband, and if she bought it herself, it would be like admitting that was never going to happen.
For now, she was happy living in her two-bedroom apartment with Dreama. Oh shit! As she unlocked the door, she realized that she’d forgotten to call and inform her roommate that Ryder was coming over to meet Maddox. “I’m not alone,” she called out in warning.
Dreama strolled out of the kitchen, holding a bottle of baby formula and thankfully wearing appropriate clothes to meet a stranger, one of her own creations—a white T-shirt with black leather and lace adornment over a pair of jeans that were painted with HELL’S LITTLE ANGEL down one leg. “Hey, Ryder. How was dinner?”
Or not a stranger.
Jane’s gaze bounced between Dreama and Ryder, a bowling ball of apprehension forming in her stomach. “Do you two know each other?”
“Before you jump to any conclusions,” Dreama said, holding up her hand with the bottle, “no, Ryder and I have never slept together.”
Dreama knew Jane well. That’s exactly where her mind had been going.
Ryder’s hand curled around her arm. “Tristan—the friend I told you about—is engaged to Dreama’s cousin, Isabella.”
Jane tried to wrap her head around it. She shot Dreama an accusatory glare. “You figured it out when I said Ryder’s name the other night. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought it would be best if it happened organically,” Dreama said with a shrug. “That way if he didn’t call or you didn’t want to see him again, I wouldn’t be in the middle.”
“Except now that we know the truth, you’re in the middle of it anyway,” Jane pointed out.
Dreama put a hand over her heart. “Hey, I’m Switzerland. That being said, you’re my best friend and I’m always going to be there for you, but it’s not up to me to fill you in on the ins and outs of Ryder McKay. That’s for you to discover all on your own.” She turned her attention toward Ryder and shook a finger at him. “But if you fuck with her, I’ll make sure your life is a living hell from that point on. There won’t be a woman in Michigan who won’t believe you’ve got three different STDs and a pencil-sized dick that couldn’t find a G-spot even with a flashlight and a GPS.”
Jane’s jaw dropped. Holy shit, her roommate was fierce.
Ryder nodded once, seeming to take Dreama’s words very seriously. As he should because Dreama would follow through on her threat if prompted. “Duly noted.”
Dreama gave them both a broad smile and passed the baby bottle to Jane. “Good then. I’ve done my part, so I’m going to take a shower before bed.”
As Dreama disappeared into her room, Jane took Ryder by the hand and tugged him toward her bedroom. “Come with me.”
A swarm of butterflies flapped their nasty little wings in her stomach. Yeah, so sue her. She didn’t understand people’s fascination with butterflies. They were worms that turned into flying bugs. Just because their wings were colorful didn’t make them any less creepy. And right now, it felt as if there were a whole bunch of the nasty critters recreating an episode of Dancing with the Stars inside of her.
By the time she realized she was having a conversation inside her head rationalizing her fear of butterflies to herself, they’d reached her bedroom. Letting go of Ryder’s hand, she flicked on the lights and strode over to the crib, where she looked down at her baby boy who was currently sucking on his hand. “Hi, baby. Mommy’s home.” She scooped him up and kissed his chubby cheek before cradling him in her arms and presenting him to Ryder. “Maddox, this is your daddy. Ryder, this is your son.”
Ryder stood as still as a statue and made no attempt to reach for his son, his face unreadable. Before she could question him, he took a stuttered breath and his expression transformed into what she could only describe as one of awe. She knew that because she’d felt the same way the first time she’d laid eyes on Maddox.
He didn’t take his gaze off his son. “Can I…?”
She moved
closer to Ryder. “Do you want to hold him?”
Still staring at Maddox, he nodded and held out his hands in front of him.
She carefully transferred a cooing Maddox into Ryder’s arms.
He held the baby stiffly at first, far away from his body. Then slowly he dropped his shoulders and brought Maddox to his chest. “Hey, little man. It’s nice to meet you.”
The ice around her heart melted as she watched Ryder get acquainted with his son. He stroked his cheeks and his belly, pulled off his socks to count his toes, and let Maddox use his finger as a pacifier.
Of course, once Maddox realized he couldn’t get milk from that finger, his face turned deep red and he began to cry.
Poor Ryder looked horrified. “He doesn’t like me.”
She smiled as she took Maddox from him. “He doesn’t know you. It’s just his age. Don’t take it personally.” Patting Maddox’s back, she carried him over to the changing table and set him down. “He’s hungry and wet. You’d cry too.”
“Isn’t he kind of small for being three months? I’ve held grocery bags heavier than him.”
Laughing, she grabbed a fresh diaper. “He’s fine. Seventy-fifth percentile in both height and weight.”
Now that Maddox had stopped crying, Ryder seemed more comfortable, rubbing Maddox’s hand. “And that’s good?”
“Yes. That’s good.”
“He’s incredible. Look how hard he can squeeze my finger.”
“Just be thankful you don’t have long hair.” She tossed the dirty diaper in the trash before lifting Maddox off the table and returning him to Ryder’s arms.
Ryder popped the bottle into Maddox’s hungry mouth and sat in the rocking chair, his finger back in Maddox’s grasp.
They looked perfect together. There was nothing sexier than a man holding a baby.
