by Kaylee Ryan
“He got into the wrong crowd. He was a third-year medical resident when we started dating. After he finished his residency, he changed. That wrong crowd, was a group of medical students who were using and selling prescription drugs. Anyway, he changed. The drugs changed him. I didn’t know that’s what it was at first, but when I found out, I ended it. Well, I tried to, anyway. He was mean and angry that I left him. To make matters worse, he lived in the apartment across the hall. It was like I couldn’t get away from him and his anger.”
I clench my jaw. “Did he put his hands on you?”
“No, not really. I mean, he pushed me a few times, but it was nothing. He never hit me, really.” She stops and sighs heavily into the phone. “You don’t want to hear all this. I can’t believe I’m even telling you.”
“Keep talking,” I blurt out.
“Excuse me?”
“I need to know, Kendall. So help me, if you don’t finish telling me, my ass will be on your doorstep in however the hell long it takes me to get to you and you will tell me.”
“Ridge.” She sounds shocked.
“Kendall,” I give it right back to her.
“I don’t see how this is any of your business. I should go.”
“Let me tell you something—you are my business. I want you, Kendall. There is something between us, and I want to be able to see what it means. Anytime you’re near me, I gravitate toward you.” I take a deep breath and soften my tone. “I won’t be able to sleep until I know.”
“Once. He hit me once. That was the last time. One weekend he left to go out of town, and Dawn and I packed up and moved here. We’d been working on moving our things slowly for weeks. He’s called a few times, but I’ve avoided him. It was more of a slap, but that was the last straw for me. I knew I needed to get away before things got worse. Dawn’s not close with her family and she said she had nothing holding her there, so she moved with me. We stayed with my parents’ for a few weeks until we found a house to rent. We were lucky enough to both find jobs at the same place. We’ve just been settling in ever since.”
He fucking hit her! I focus on my breathing to keep myself calm. Red-hot rage roars through me like I’ve never felt before. “If he comes around, if he bothers you, you tell me. No exceptions, no excuses—you come to me. Got it?”
“Ridge, that’s crazy, you can’t—”
I interrupt her. “I can and I will. I need to hear you promise me, Kendall. He shows up, you come to me. You call me, fucking send a carrier pigeon, but you come to me.”
“Okay,” she says, so quiet I almost miss it. Then she yawns.
“I meant what I said, Kendall. I want to see where this goes.”
‘Ridge, I—”
“I know we need to talk. I need to tell you about Knox’s mom and I will, soon, but I want
to do it in person, not over the phone. I want to know that you can see me, see that my words are true.”
“Okay,” she says again.
“Night, sweet girl.”
She hesitates. “Sweet dreams,” she says, and then the line goes dead.
Sweet fucking dreams indeed.
Chapter 24
I didn’t see Ridge yesterday, but we texted off and on all day. He sent me a picture of Knox sleeping on his chest last night. He claimed to be exhausted as well, having not slept well the night before. I know the feeling. I kept running our conversation over in my head. I can’t believe I just spilled my guts to him about Cal, that I admitted he hit me. Dawn is the only person I’ve told. I never wanted to tell anyone else, but Ridge has such a commanding way about him that he had me singing like a damn canary.
Mom and Dad are due home tomorrow, and my original plan was to stop by the house this morning on my way to work. I’m hesitant; I want to see him, but will it be different? He said he wanted me, but what does that mean exactly? That question alone has kept me awake for the second night in a row. I climb out of bed and shower, even though I still have two hours left to sleep. It’s just not happening.
After my shower, I dress for work and make my way to the kitchen, deciding to make some homemade cinnamon rolls. I’m just finished with my third cup of coffee and cleaning up when Dawn strolls into the kitchen.
“How long until they’re done?” she asks.
I laugh. I knew as soon as the smell hit her room, she would be awake; my homemade cinnamon rolls are her weakness. It’s actually my dad’s recipe. We would make them every year for Mother’s Day and Mom’s birthday. “About five more minutes,” I say, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter to her.
“Bless you.” She moans as she takes her first sip. “Why are you up so early?”
“One guess,” I tell her.
“Ridge fucking Beckett.” She giggles. “Even his name is hot as hell.”
I nod, because she’s right.
“Have you heard from him?”
“We texted last night. He sent me the cutest picture of Knox.” I grab my phone and pull up the message to show her the picture.
“So, yeah, the baby is adorable, but look at his dad.”
I blush, because yeah, I did that too. Knox is in nothing but a diaper, curled up in a ball, his little hands under his chin as he sleeps on Ridge’s bare chest. His hard arms, his ink, the tiny baby, that he has his large hand on his back, holding him close. . . .
“Ovary fucking explosion,” Dawn says.
“Right?”
“So, you going over there today?”
“That was the plan, but I don’t know. I didn’t tell him I was.”
“Do it. See how he acts. I mean, damn, Kendall. He told you he wanted you—not that it was a surprise to anyone. Hell, even Reagan said she thinks he’s interested.”
“Wait, she did? When? How did you not tell me this?”
She laughs. “The same night as your epic phone call. She did my manicure, which I wasn’t expecting, and we talked.”
“What did she say, exactly?”
“Just that she thinks her brother is into you. She wanted to see if you were seeing anyone and if I thought you were interested.”
“And you told her what?” It’s like pulling teeth to get her to talk.
“That you were available and you were interested as well.”
“Dawn! Shit. Do you think that’s what the phone call was about?”
“No, definitely not. She and I went to dinner after and we closed the place down. It was after eleven by the time we left the restaurant parking lot. You said you talked to him until a little before eleven, right?”
“Yeah.”
“See, that was all him. No outside influence, but honestly, I want to see you happy, so I hope she tells him.”
“Gah!”
“Relax. You’re interested, right?”
Hell yes! “Yeah,” I say instead. “But I can’t be a rebound. I won’t be.”
“Talk to him. He said he wanted to tell you about Knox’s mom, right? Don’t assume, Kendall.”
I study her. “What do you know?”
She shrugs. “I’m willing to plant the seed, but I’m not about pulling the damn weeds. You have to talk to him. Open up, tell him about Cal.”
“I already did,” I say, shocking her.
Her mouth drops open, but she quickly recovers. “Good. Now, you need to let him tell his story. After you’re both informed of the other’s past, you can decide together what the future holds, if anything. Just don’t push him away until you know the facts.”
I don’t reply, because there really is nothing to say. That’s exactly what I was trying to do. She knows me all too well.
“What are you going to do with all of these? If I eat them all, I’ll have to live in the gym for the next month.”
I look over at the double batch of cinnamon rolls. “I guess I’m going to see if the boys of Beckett Construction are hungry.”
“Boys?” She scoffs. “There isn’t anything boyish about any of them. Those five are all men.” She winks. “I�
�ll help you wrap them up so you can go get yours.”
“He’s not mine.”
“Not yet.” She smirks.
Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into my grandparents’ driveway. The guys aren’t here yet. I grab the cinnamon rolls and the gallon of milk and paper cups I picked up on the way here. It’s a nice morning, so I set it all up on the back deck. Once it’s ready, I sit in the lounger and scroll through the texts between Ridge and me. I save the picture of him and Knox and add it to his image in my contacts. That’s what I’ll see anytime he calls or sends a message, which makes me smile.
“That smile is something to start the day with,” Ridge’s deep voice startles me.
“Hey,” I say, jumping from my seat.
He surprises me by stepping toward me and wrapping an arm around my waist, hugging me to him. This is how the rest of the guys find us.
“About fucking time, brother. I was worried you’d lost it,” Tyler says with a smile.
I expect Ridge to retaliate, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans down and kisses my temple. If his arm weren’t holding me up, I would’ve melted into a puddle of goo right here on the back deck.
“What’s all this?” Seth asks.
“I, um . . . I couldn’t sleep, so I made cinnamon rolls. This is more than Dawn and I could eat, so I thought you all might enjoy them.”
“You good?” Kent asks Ridge, who just looks at him in question. “Because if you’re not, I’m fucking calling dibs, my man.”
Ridge’s grip on my waist tightens. “Mine” is all he says, but the guys seem to understand what that means. Mark, Tyler and Seth are grinning, while Kent looks a little amused and possibly disappointed.
“Thank you,” Ridge says, his lips next to my ear.
He holds on to me as long as he can, but I’m set on putting distance between us, eventually stepping out of arm’s reach.
Mine. I assume he means me, but we’re not really to that point . . . are we? I mean, we just started talking, and I really need to know about Knox’s mom before I let myself get any further invested. I need to know that what he says is true, that I’m not just a rebound.
I really hope I’m not.
Chapter 25
When we pulled in and I saw her car parked in the driveway, I knew. I knew in that moment that she was with me in this. When I spotted her on the back deck, I just had to touch her. It’s a new need for me. Yes, need. Yes, I wanted to touch her, but the need to do so was what pushed me to wrap my arms around her, witnesses be damned.
I watch her as she talks to the guys. Kent made me show my hand, but that’s fine; I was going to anyway. The more I talk to her, touch her, spend time with her, the more the need grows. I don’t understand it; it’s fast, and it’s . . . not normal. I’ve had so many changes in the last month, that I’m just rolling with this. Dad always said, “Trust your gut, son. When you find her, it’ll let you know. Don’t fight it; it’ll just make you both miserable.” That was part of his speech on my sixteenth birthday. That, along with wrapping it up no matter what. My son is proof that even when you do, things can happen.
“I should get going or I’m going to be late for work.”
I watch as she starts to clean up after us. “We’ll get that, Kendall,” Seth tells her. “That’s the least we can do.”
“I’ll walk you out,” I say, holding my hand out for hers. She only hesitates for a few seconds before linking her fingers through mine. She waves over her shoulder at the guys as I lead her back into the house then out to her car.
“Thank you for that.”
“Like I said, I couldn’t sleep, and Dawn was cussing about having to spend the next month in the gym.” She laughs.
She stops and leans against the side of her car. I stand in front of her, moving closer, removing the distance between us. I cup her face in my hand and run my thumb over her bottom lip, just like before. “I’m glad I got to see you.”
“Me too.” She blushes.
This girl. Sweet as hell. “When do you think I might get to do that again?”
She shrugs. “Not sure. I have plans with my parents’ this weekend. They’ve been gone for two weeks.”
“Can I call you, at least?”
“I’d like that.” She smiles up at me. I know she has to get to work, but I need just one more second with her. Every second counts—at least with her. I drop my hand and pull her into a hug, breathing her in. She melts into my hold. Perfect.
Reluctantly, I pull away, even though I could stand here all day. I’ll analyze that thought later. Instead, I block the feelings she evokes in me and kiss her forehead. “Have a great day, sweet girl.”
She surprises me when she stands on tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “You too,” she says softly. I step back, reaching around to open the door for her. I wait until she’s strapped in before shutting the door, watching her pull out of the drive until I can no longer see her. It’s my ringing cell phone that finally breaks my trance.
Tyler.
“Yeah,” I say, turning to go into the house.
“Just want to make sure you weren’t running off into the sunset,” he jokes.
“Not yet, man, not yet.”
“Wow, okay. Not the answer I expected.” I can hear the others in the background wanting to know what I said.
“Get to work.” I laugh. How can I not? Life has a way of shaking things up until you feel like you can’t breathe, but then it settles into a calm where it feels like all that pain brought you to this point. Maybe it’s Melissa—hell, I don’t know if I even believe in all of that—but I know this is coming fast and hard, and for some reason, I don’t want to stop it. I want it, all of it . . . all of her. I want to see where this unexpected reality leads me this time. I’ve lived it the last month. It gave me my son, and I wouldn’t change that for anything. Maybe, just maybe, it will give me Kendall as well.
A man can only hope.
The guys are already working on the trim around the cabinets by the time I make it inside.
“No shit?” Mark asks.
Tyler must have filled him in. I shrug in response. What can I say? I want her. I can’t explain it, and honestly, I don’t want to.
“What’s the plan for this weekend?” Kent asks.
“There’s a fight on Saturday night,” Seth suggests.
“Sounds good to me. My place. I don’t want to have Knox out that late.”
They all nod their agreement. “I’ll call Reagan, we’ll need food,” Tyler says. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to have her invite Kendall and Dawn, but I don’t. I keep my mouth shut. We’ll get there; with everything in me, I feel it.
“You all will have to keep it down, or I’m kicking your asses out. Can’t have you waking my boy,” I warn them. It’s still strange to me, but then again it’s not. We seem to be settling in okay. I guess like Mom always says, “God will not give you more than you can handle.” I think I’ve had my fill for a while, unless it’s Kendall. He can give me Kendall.
I push thoughts of Kendall and my son out of my mind and dive into work. It’s not until the guys start complaining that they’re starving that I realize how much time has passed. I suggest we go to the diner, hoping to run into her again. Overnight, I’ve become the guy who chooses a restaurant just for the chance to get a glimpse of the girl. I let that sink in, and surprise even myself when I realize I really am good with it.
“You just want to see your girl,” Seth teases.
“Yep.” No point in denying it. Not to them.
“Holy shit,” Kent says.
“You’re sunk, brother.” Tyler laughs.
I nod. “Yeah, I think you might be right.”
“Fucking crazy shit, Beckett,” Mark chimes in.
“It is,” I agree. This is not me—hell, any of us really. We’ve been good flying solo with the occasional hookup, settling down not on our radar.
Wait, settling down? Is that what I want?
“I bet—�
�� Kent barely gets the words out before I cut him off.
“No,” I grit out. “No more bets. Stephanie was a huge mistake, and just . . . no. I won’t make any bets that have anything to do with Kendall. I want no part of that shit.”
He holds his hands up, palms out. “Got it.”
“Lunch,” Mark grumbles.
I couldn’t agree more. I can only hope we run into my girl.
We all arrive at the diner at the same time, and I quickly scan the room. They’re not here. I tamp down my disappointment then pull out my phone and text her.
Me: At the diner. Was hoping to see my girl.
Kendall: Your girl?
Me: Yeah. She’s gorgeous. Her name’s Kendall, you know her?
Kendall: You seem sure of yourself.
Me: I am.
“Dude, you gonna order?” Seth asks.
I get a burger and fries with a sweet tea and go back to Kendall.
Kendall: I packed today.
Me: Bummer. How’s your day going?
Kendall: So far so good.
Me: Knox will be in to see you next week.
Kendall: I’ll have to check the schedule and make sure I stop in and say hello to him.
Me: Just to him?
Kendall: Well . . .
I’m smiling like a lovesick fool. I can feel it. I can also feel the stares of my friends, but I have zero fucks to give at the moment.
Me: I’ll call you later.
Kendall: Enjoy your lunch.
Me: You too, babe.
“They coming?” Mark asks.
“Nah, they’re eating at the office today.”
“Were you sexting?” Tyler smirks.
I turn to look at him where he sits beside me. “What?”
He points at my face. “That grin of yours—you sexting or what?”
“No.” I don’t elaborate.
“Pussy whipped,” Mark coughs into his hand, just as the waitress is dropping off our food.
I wait until she’s gone to reply. “I’d need to have had it to be whipped by it.”
