Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the doorbell suddenly rang.
Ryder jumped back, though he kept staring at me as if he were expecting me to say something else.
I was held in it. Staring back.
The doorbell rang again, and Ryder spat, “Fuck,” toward his feet.
I swallowed around the disorder.
“I need to go,” I managed, my hands shaking as I grabbed my clutch and started across the floor, shouting, “Coming,” as I went.
Unfortunately, to get out, I had to go right past Ryder. His body burned hot, his arm grazing mine and his spirit swamping the space.
Tumult bound me in a fist, and I angled around him before I rushed to where Kayden was playing with his dinosaurs on the carpet. I knelt in front of him and brushed my fingers through his hair. “Mommy is going to go out for a little bit, and you’re going to stay with Uncle Ryder.”
“My Rye-Rye.” Kayden patted his chest then threw out his arm to point at Ryder who’d shifted in the doorway. “You pway wif me, my Rye-Rye?”
“That’s right, buddy, I’m going to stay here and play with you until your mommy gets back.” His voice was gravel, though it had softened for my son’s benefit.
“Yay. Bye, Mommy. You go now. I stay.” Kayden patted both my cheeks.
Even through the turmoil, laughter puffed out, and I leaned in and pressed a kiss to the crown of Kayden’s head. “I see how easily I can be replaced.”
Ryder came striding our way, and he leaned down and scooped Kayden up, pulling him to his chest.
I stood at the same time as he did.
He was so close.
A raging fire.
Those arms so strong and sure as he held onto my son. “No, Dakota, you can’t be replaced.”
My knees knocked, and I wobbled on my feet, my breaths so shallow I couldn’t speak.
But what was I supposed to say?
What, when he was saying all these things that I’d longed to hear him say for years?
The doorbell rang again.
Crap.
“I really appreciate you watching him,” I finally forced out.
“No problem.” The words barely made it through the grinding of his teeth, and I forced myself to move to the door. I had my hand on the handle when his voice stopped me from behind. “You look beautiful, Dakota.”
I swallowed back the shattered whimper. “Thank you.”
I forced myself to open the door. Brad stood on the other side with his hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. Although he didn’t look all wickedly casual the way Ryder always did.
He looked like he was having second thoughts.
Especially when Ryder appeared in the doorway with my son in his arms. He held him protectively as he issued the words over the top of Kayden’s head.
“Take care of my girl.”
TWENTY-ONE
RYDER
Watching her stroll down the walkway with her elbow hooked in Brad’s was brutal.
Fucking brutal when he led her around to the passenger side of his car and helped her into the seat then jogged back around before they drove off.
While I stood on the porch staring like a stupid fuck who had no sense.
Had to beat down the urge to run after them.
On my feet like I could somehow manage to catch up to what was speeding away.
This was what I should want, though, wasn’t it?
For her to go?
Move on?
Chase down whatever she wanted and take it for herself?
Except it was me standing there wanting to chase it down.
“Mommy go bye-bye.” Kayden pointed at the taillights that faded in the distance.
“Yeah, buddy. Mommy went bye-bye, but she’ll be back soon.”
At least I fucking hoped so.
“Rye-Rye pway now.” He dipped his head in all that excitement, cuteness dripping from him, enough that it pulled a short chuckle from me. I ran a hand over the back of his head before I pressed a kiss to the top.
“Let’s go have fun, yeah?”
“I wike fun!”
I carried him into the house and back to the rug where his toys were dumped out.
Kid had basically confiscated the place, his shit strewn all over, and I couldn’t help but think that’s the way that it was supposed to be. That these walls were supposed to echo with this kind of love, with his giggles and sweetness and zest for life.
As I laid on the rug beside him, on my side and propped on my elbow while he sat fully up, babbling a million things in his little slur as he showed me every single one of his toys, I couldn’t help but wonder if my mother had been in this very spot when I was little.
I had so many things I wanted to ask her about. Crawl inside her mind and heart and understand who she was because really, I hadn’t been more than a kid when she’d gotten sick.
Had she watched me like this?
Had her heart been full?