Chapter Fourteen
“I think it needs to be moved over a little more,” Savannah said, pointing to the right of tree and trying to suppress a giggle as exasperation masked Ryder’s face.
“This is the last damn time I’m moving this monstrosity, woman.”
“Then I guess you better get it right.” She threw him a big smile to his scowl.
Shaking his head, he grabbed hold of the tree and inched it over.
“Perfect.” She clapped her hands.
“Now can we decorate it, Mommy?” Timmy asked.
“We sure can!” Savanah walked over to the boxes of lights and ornaments she’d bought earlier that morning at Walmart. She wished she had some of the beautiful bulbs her grandmother had given her before she died, but she’d left everything behind when she ran away that fateful day.
“I’ve done my part,” Ryder said, walking over to the couch.
“Just point me in the direction of a ladder and we’re good,” she replied, untangling a string of lights.
For a few seconds, Ryder’s eyes darted from the tree to her then back to the tree, and then he mumbled something inaudible—most definitely some cuss words—and stalked back over to the tree, taking the lights from her hands. Without a word, he started wrapping them around the tree from the top down. Warmth spread throughout Savannah while she watched him, and she felt as though her heart was dancing around in her chest, filling a hole no one had ever done before. To think that Ryder was a complete stranger just a couple of weeks before, and now she couldn’t imagine him not being around. It just blew her mind.
Savannah scanned the room, her gaze landing on the three stockings hanging from the mantel, the snowmen and Santa decals on the glass panes, and the string of lights around the kitchen window. The man who hates Christmas did this all for us. As if he sensed Savannah’s eyes on him, Ryder turned around and looked back at her, a string of lights dangling from his hands. The faint glimmer of the afternoon sun ghosted over his olive skin, and there was something so beautiful in those brown eyes, something so safe and warm.
Savannah padded over to him and stroked the side of his face then kissed him sweetly on the cheek. “Thank you for doing all this for me and Timmy,” she whispered in his ear.
A low growl emitted from his throat, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close.
“No worries, darlin’. I’m under your fucking spell.” He brushed his lips across hers.
Giggling, Savannah pushed away. She wanted to kiss Ryder passionately but didn’t want to confuse Timmy. He had taken a real liking to Ryder. The two of them had spent quite a bit of time together in the workshop with Timmy trying out each toy Ryder had made. Outside, they’d had fun snowball fights, made at least five snowmen, and had built a really cool snow fort. Ryder had spent more time with Timmy in just two short weeks than Bret had in the entire six years of Timmy’s life. Savannah didn’t want to get Timmy’s hopes up about Ryder and herself, especially if things didn’t work out between them—a thought that made her heart ache.
After Ryder had finished wrapping the last strand of lights, he looked over his shoulder at Savannah, who was perched on the edge of the couch placing hooks on the ornaments.
“That’s the last thing I’m gonna do with this tree—the rest is your job.” His tone was gruff, but his eyes were twinkling.
“And mine!” Timmy danced in place, and Ryder and Savannah laughed.
“You do the bottom half, sweetie, and I’ll do the top. After we’re done, I’ll serve the sugar cookies we made this morning.”
An hour later, empty boxes were in the garage, broken bulbs in the trash, and the floor was spotless as the three of them sat on the couch—Timmy in the middle—eating cookies, drinking hot chocolate, and watching the colored lights reflecting off the bulbs.
“It’s the most beautiful tree we’ve ever had,” Savannah said.
“I got to help. It’s the best,” Timmy replied.
And it was because they all did it together. It was the first time in years that she and Timmy had decorated a Christmas tree. They’d always had decorators come into their Boston home and deck it out to the nines. Bret told her it was what the Carltons did, so he employed the same company that did his parents’ home to do theirs as well. It was breathtakingly gorgeous, but it felt too perfect and lacked the homey feel of the holidays.
“This is your first real Christmas tree,” she said softly then kissed the top of his tousled hair.
“No shit? I mean … no way,” Ryder replied.
“Daddy had people do it for us. I like this better.” Timmy took another bite of his cookie.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Ryder put his arm on the back of the sofa, and her body tingled in anticipation of his touch. His warm fingers lightly caressed the back of her neck, and she raised her hand and placed it on his, squeezing it lightly.
Savannah sat staring at the tree as Ryder and Timmy talked while Brutus was sprawled next to Ryder’s feet. This is perfect. Maybe a bit more screwed up than a Norman Rockwell painting, but perfect nevertheless.
* * *
It was a Winter Wonderland of sparkling lights, glowing sculptures, animated displays, and an array of brilliant colors. Booths surrounded the perimeter of Main Square, selling homemade baked goods and cups of hot cider and cocoa.
Savannah stood next to Ryder, her arm looped around his, and watched as Timmy sat on Santa’s lap telling him what he wanted for Christmas. Several good-looking men wearing leather jackets with the Insurgents’ name and logo on the back came over to Ryder and bumped fists with him. She recognized just a few of the men: Hawk, Banger, Throttle, Rags, and Animal. The majority of the others were strangers to Savanah, but they lifted their chins to her when Ryder made the introductions.
“Santa gave me this,” Timmy said, holding up a multi-colored sucker.
“Let’s leave it for tomorrow,” Savannah said, placing it in her purse. Timmy was already bouncing from all the sugar he’d ingested since they arrived at the festival a couple of hours before.
“When are they gonna light the tree?” Timmy asked.
“Real soon, so we should head over to it,” Ryder answered.
As they stood listening to the mayor give his holiday speech, Savannah leaned against Ryder’s arm, and he looked sideways at her and smiled. He’d placed Timmy on top of his shoulders so the boy could see the festivities over the heads of the adults crammed in front of them.
Suddenly, an uneasy feeling quivered in Savannah’s stomach and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Someone’s watching me. The feeling overwhelmed her, and she knew whoever it was stood just behind her. Gripping Ryder’s upper arm, she slowly looked over her shoulder and met the steely eyes of a man whose face looked as if it’d been rearranged a few times. A thick scar ran from his left temple to the middle of the cheek, pockmarks peppered his skin, a big bump lay atop his crooked nose, and his thin lips reminded her of those on her brother’s lizard from when they were kids.
Savannah shuddered. Do I know him? She wracked her brain, but nothing came up. I’m sure I’d remember seeing someone that creepy. Angling her head slightly, she noticed that the man was still behind her, watching.
“Don’t make it obvious, but have you seen that guy behind me before? I’m just wondering if he lives here,” she said to Ryder.
“Is someone bothering you?” A hard edge marked his voice.
“No … that’s not it. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen him around town.”
Ryder glanced backward then shook his head. “Don’t know him, but I don’t go into town very often.” His gaze landed on a tall, built man in a leather jacket. Ryder raised his hand and gestured him over.
The tall man looked at Savannah then at Ryder, lifting his chin at him. “What’s up, dude?”
“Have you seen this guy behind me? The one whose nose looks like it’s been broken a few times.”
The brown-haired biker turned around and stared at the man. “What the fuck are you looking at?” he asked him.
“The tree,” the man said.
“Bullshit,” Ryder added, turning around slightly.
Savannah’s chest tightened. What are they doing? I just asked about him, I don’t want to be the cause of any trouble.
The young biker took a couple of steps toward the stranger. “Where the fuck are you from?”
“Here.”
“Wrong answer. I saw you come out of the Pinewood Springs Hotel last night.”
Soon, two other muscular Insurgents wandered over, joining in on the banter with the tall man.
“Ryder, I don’t want any trouble. I just asked you a simple question,” Savannah said in a soft voice.
“Man checks out a woman when she’s with another man has to expect some trouble,” he answered.
“Jerry, what’s going on?” a pretty blonde asked as she came toward the small group.
“Kylie, go back over to your dad. I’ll be there in a minute.”
The blonde tossed her hair and shook her head. “I don’t want you to start something. We came to have a good time. Let’s go back together.”
The stranger crossed his arms. “Listen to the girl—she’s talking sense.”
“What the fuck did you say to me, old man?” Jerry clenched his fists.
“Rock, Clotille wants you to help out with James,” Kylie said.
“Tell her I’ll be there,” Rock said, and Savannah noticed his dark eyes never left the stranger’s face.
“Ryder … think of Timmy. Please stop this from going any further,” Savannah pleaded.
His jaw seemed to soften a bit, and tenderness pushed away the anger in his brown eyes. “Brothers, leave it be.” He then pivoted toward the man, Timmy’s small hands buried in Ryder’s hair. “Move away and there won’t be trouble. Staring at a man’s woman is gonna get your ass kicked.”
The blond-haired man’s eyes shifted from Ryder to Savannah then to Rock and Jerry before he gave a slight shrug and walked away. Savannah exhaled slowly through her nose as her nerves calmed down.
“I know where that sonofabitch is staying,” Jerry said.
Savannah shook her head. “This is a misunderstanding. I just wanted to know if that guy lived here because he … looked like someone I thought I knew.” Why am I protecting that creep. He was watching me—not checking me out like Ryder thinks. No … it was something else.
“This is Savannah,” Ryder said, breaking in on her thoughts. “This here is Jerry, and that’s Rock.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m sorry I caused this confusion.”
“No worries. When a brother needs something, we’re there,” Rock said, clapping his hand on Ryder’s back. “Later, bro.” The two bikers walked away and disappeared into the crowd.
“Is the whole club full of intimidating men like them? Wait, it is—Hawk and Banger fit that bill too,” Savannah said.
Ryder laughed. “They’re pretty typical. Rock’s the club’s sergeant-at-arms. Jerry’s old lady is Banger’s daughter.”
“That pretty blonde?”
“Yeah—Kylie.”
“What’s the sergeant-at-arms?”
“The heavy of the club. He’s in charge of clubhouse security along with enforcement of club rules and regulations. He’s the only one who can reprimand the president, should he fuck up, but Banger never does.” Ryder grinned.
“Look, they’re going to light the tree!” Timmy cried out.
“Awesome,” she said as she playfully pulled at her son’s boot. The boy giggled then riveted his gaze on the twenty-five foot tree. She snuggled against Ryder and watched as the mayor dramatically flipped the switch, lighting the tree decked out in tinsel, ornaments, and thousands of twinkling lights to welcome the Christmas season.
Timmy clapped his hands and laughed, darting his eyes from her face back to the spectacular tree.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
“You’re beautiful,” Ryder said, planting a kiss on her lips.
Savannah stroked the side of his face with her gloved fingers, her body tingling all over.
“How did you like it,” Cara asked as she came over, Isa and Braxton in tow.
“I loved it. I’m so glad we came, and Timmy is having the time of his life,” Savannah replied.
Ryder lifted Timmy up and off his shoulders, and as his little body pressed against Savannah’s leg, he and Braxton high-fived each other.
Cara’s eyes switched between Savannah and Ryder, then she tightened the multi-colored scarf around her neck. “I’m having a little Christmas sleepover party for Braxton, Harley, and James—he’s Clotille and Rock’s son. I’d love it, and so would Braxton, if Timmy could come.” Again she glanced at Ryder then back at Savannah. “Clotille’s coming by to help out with the boys for a while, then it’ll just be me and Hawk. Believe me, we’ll keep a very good eye on them.”
“Yeah, their house is tighter than Fort Knox.” Ryder laughed.
“Can I, Mommy?” Timmy’s upturned face, full of hope and excitement, touched Savannah’s heart.
“So you were listening to us.” She put her hand on his shoulder and drew him closer to him. “I think it sounds like a lot of fun, so … sure.”
“Yippee!” Braxton and Timmy yelled in unison. Cara and Savannah laughed.
“When is the party?” Savannah asked.
“Tomorrow night. You can bring Timmy over around three thirty or four. Is he allergic to peanuts or anything?”
“No.”
“Do you like macaroni and cheese, Timmy?” Cara asked.
“That’s my favorite. My mom makes it the best.”
“I know I won’t beat your mom’s mac ’n cheese, but I make a pretty good one too. Do you think you’ll want to try it?”
“Uh-huh.” Timmy bobbed up and down.
“Mommy, can we have meatballs too?” Braxton asked.
Ryder laughed. “You can tell he’s a paisano. Italian-American kids gotta have their meatballs. Speaking of that, Savannah makes the best lasagna. Ever,” he said to Cara.
“I waitressed at a mom and pop Italian restaurant a million years ago,” Savannah replied to Cara’s curious look.
“You about ready to get going?” Hawk asked as he swept Isa up in his arms.
“It’s time we head out too,” Ryder said, grasping Savannah’s hand. The two bikers bumped fists before parting ways.
On the ride back to the cabin, a mix of ’80s metal music played at a low volume as the vehicle heated up. Savannah rested her head back against the seat and stared at the darkness in front of them. The face of the stranger flashed through her mind, and suspicion trickled down her spine. Something doesn’t seem right. Worry niggled in the back of her mind as she recalled her mother’s declaration from their conversation earlier that day at how she was “pretty confident” Savannah and Timmy would be home for Christmas. After her mom had said that, she’d thought it was just her mom’s way of subtly guilting her into returning to Boston, but after seeing that man, Savannah wasn’t too sure about her mother’s statement. Did she tell Bret where we are? She wouldn’t … or would she?
Ryder’s hand covered hers and drew her away from her thoughts. She looked at him and smiled then peeked into the back seat where Timmy’s head lolled to the side as he slept.
“He’s pooped out,” she said.
“It was a big day,” Ryder answered.
“Was it horrible for you? I mean, for someone who isn’t into Christmas, you had the holiday cheer rammed down your throat today. I bet after the season, you probably don’t ever want to see another decorated tree.”
Ryder brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “It was a bit much, but I didn’t mind it. I liked seeing how happy you and Timmy were, but I draw the line at incessant Christmas music.”
She laughed softly. “I promise not to blast it throughout your house.”
“Then we won’t have a problem.”
“Your family’s not into Christmas either?”
“They are. My mom’s all about the food and the traditions, and she’s been baking up a storm with my sisters, aunts, and cousins since Thanksgiving. Last time I was over there, they had pizzelle all over the damn place.”
“I love those cookies. I haven’t had them since I worked at Luna’s. I bet they’re so good.”
“I’ll have to bring some to you.”
“So, your family doesn’t go in for the tree lighting?”
“Some years they do, others years they don’t. I was surprised my brother wasn’t there. His daughters like that kind of thing.” He glanced at her briefly and shrugged. “Maybe they had something else to do.”
“I didn’t know you were an uncle,” Savannah said.
Nodding, he stared straight ahead. “I got three nieces and a nine-month-old nephew. My brother’s got two girls, and my sister has a girl and the new baby.”
“Do you see them very often?”
“Depends—I go in cycles. Most of the time I want to be left the hell alone, so they back off. It works.” Ryder veered the jeep onto the narrow road that led to his cabin. “What about you?”
“I’m the second oldest of five—two brothers and two sisters, and only one grandkid for my parents—Timmy.” Savannah looked down and played with the fringe on her scarf. “That’s why I feel bad about taking Timmy away right before Christmas. It’s so selfish, but … I had to get away.”
“Did you tell your mom that?”
“I did, but she doesn’t really understand.” She shook her head when his features hardened. “But I don’t blame her—I didn’t tell her the whole story.” She leaned over and kissed him on the side of his mouth. “I appreciate you helping to make this Christmas nice for Timmy. I know he misses his grandparents,” she said softly in his ear.
“Both sets of grandparents?”
“No”—she pulled away and reclined back in the seat—“just my parents.”
Ryder hit the button and the garage door opened, and he pulled the vehicle inside.
“I’ll carry Timmy to his room,” Ryder said, opening the jeep’s back door.
Savannah followed after him and pulled back the covers when they entered Timmy’s room. She slowly took off her son’s boots, mittens, hat, and jacket. Ryder squeezed her shoulder and retreated from the room, grumbling something about taking Brutus out for a walk.
After Timmy was snuggled in bed, his arm wrapped around Furry, Savannah switched off the light and walked into her room to change and wash up. By the time she sat down on the couch, Ryder had just come in from walking the dog; his cheeks were red and he rubbed his hands together as if warming them up.
“Do you want me to pour you a shot of whiskey to warm you up?” she asked. Her breath caught as his gaze slowly roamed over her then lingered on her mouth, making her burn.
“I got some other ideas about how to warm up, but a shot of whiskey’s a good start.”
Tingles skated over her skin, and she looked away from him. “Did you want me to start the fire?”
“I’ll do it after I get out of these wet clothes.” His footsteps faded down the hallway.
Savannah rose to her feet and padded into the kitchen to retrieve two glasses. She’d bought the premium black label of Jack Daniels for Ryder and a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream for herself when she was in town the day before. She took down two tumblers and poured a hefty portion of whiskey in his and Bailey’s in hers, then made her way back into the family room. Savannah took a sip of her drink hoping it would calm down her nerves. Ryder made her nervous and aroused more than she liked, and it didn’t help one damn bit that he oozed masculinity from his every pore. The way he wore his tight-fitting flannel shirts gave her an idea of how wonderfully chiseled he was. She’d seen hints of ink rising up from underneath his shirt collars, and the ink on his arms intrigued and excited her. Savannah could never imagine Bret or any Carlton sporting a tattoo, and even though Bret once told her the vine of purple clematis flowers tatted right above her pubic bone was sexy, she knew deep down he thought it was trashy.
What worried her the most was that she was incredibly attracted to Ryder, not just physically, but intellectually and emotionally as well. It was like they complemented each other in some broken, twisted, and dangerous way.
The sound of a match striking snapped her eyes upward and in the direction of Ryder, who was by the fireplace throwing matches at the logs and bunched-up newspapers.
“I didn’t even hear you come in,” she said.
Without answering, Ryder looked over his shoulder and caught her in a heated gaze before turning his attention back to stoking the fire. A tremor vibrated along her body.
“Where’s Brutus?” she asked.
“With Timmy.” He chuckled.
Savannah watched him as he bent over and tossed another log into the fireplace, making his shoulder muscles ripple under the long-sleeved black T-shirt. So damn sexy. Ryder straightened up, placed the poker back in the iron stand and closed the mesh fire curtain, then he strode over to the couch.
“Does your leg hurt?” Savannah asked when she saw him grimace as he settled on the cushion.
“It’s no big deal.”
“If it’s more comfortable, you can take it off.” She held her breath, knowing this was a touchy topic with him.
Ryder paused for a few seconds, then he reached over and picked up his drink. “I’m good.” The way he said it told her that it was the end of the conversation.
Savannah stretched out her legs, and he pinched her toes playfully. “You like fluffy things, don’t you?” he asked tugging at her candy cane striped fuzzy socks.
“They make me feel warm and cozy.”
“They’re cute like you.”
“Oh please … I’m too old to be cute.”
Ryder tilted his head back. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-six,” she groaned.
One corner of his mouth hitched up in a cocky smile. “I never had the hots for an older woman before.”
Savannah lightly kicked him.
He laughed and squeezed her foot. “I like it though.”
“Like I believe that. Why would you want me when you could have younger, prettier women falling at your feet? Brandi’s at least ten or twelve years younger than me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re gorgeous and sexy in a way that drives men wild.”
Bret didn’t think so.
Ryder shook his head. “I’m not interested in young girls, and before you roll those beautiful blue eyes at me, I already explained about Brandi.” He knocked her feet off the couch and moved toward her. “Give me your sweet lips, darlin’.” Heat rippled off him.
Shivers zinged through Savannah’s body, her pulse beat rapidly, and her stomach did somersaults as she leaned forward and fell into his arms. She touched his perfectly carved lips, and in an impatient gesture, he clutched the back of her neck and crushed his mouth against hers. He tasted of whiskey and peppermint from the candy cane he’d chomped on during the ride back, and she loved it.
Savannah pressed herself firmly against him, her muscles straining to get as close as she could. Aching to touch his heated skin, she pulled at his T-shirt until it lifted up from the waistband of his jeans, then she glided her fingers underneath the hem, pressing them against the corded muscles of his back. He groaned into her mouth, and the sound shuddered through her.
Ryder’s mouth moved past hers and down to her jawline, where he planted soft kisses. Each brush of his trailing lips ignited flames along her skin.
“I want you so fucking bad. Now. I know you want me too,” he rasped between kisses.
His words and touch sent carnal tingles down her spine. “I do want you. I ache for you, but—” The muscles in his back stiffened under her fingers as he broke away, his eyes meeting hers.
“But what?” Lines spanned across his forehead as he scowled.
“I want to be with you, but”—her gaze dragged away from his as she glanced at the hallway—“Timmy may come out. I don’t want that to happen. As it is, everything that’s been going on these days is confusing enough for him.”
Ryder didn’t respond right away, and Savannah expected him to pull away from her and tell her to go to hell before stalking out of the room. Instead, he swept his tongue across her lips then held her close.
“I understand, darlin’. Timmy’s still thinking about his dad.” His warm breath slipped over her skin and the place between her legs twinged with a dull throb.
“Tomorrow night we’ll be alone,” she whispered. “Timmy’s going to a sleepover, remember?”
“That’s right. Fuck baby, right now, tomorrow feels like it’ll never get here.” He bit her neck and she yelped. “I could just eat you all up.”
“I’m going to have a mark there,” she said, pulling away as she moved her hand to cover her neck.
“The next ones will be where no one but you and I can see them.” Ryder winked at her and sat back.
The idea of her pale skin being the canvass for Ryder’s love bites turned her on more than she cared to admit … especially to him. “We’ll see about that.” She pushed off the couch. “Do you want another drink?” When he nodded, she scooped up his glass and walked into the kitchen to pour them each another.
Savannah sagged against the counter, staring out at the shards of moonlight highlighting patches of snow outside. The thought of them making love the following night threw her nerves into overdrive. She wanted it badly—it’d been so long since a man had desired her, but she worried it would change things between them. Maybe he doesn’t really want to … I mean I’m the one who suggested tomorrow night. Could I have sounded more desperate? He didn’t bring up the sleepover … I did.
“You need some help with those drinks?” Ryder asked.
Savannah hurriedly filled their glasses and handed a tumbler to him before sinking down on the other end of the couch; she didn’t trust herself to be too close to Ryder.
Ryder took a large drink, placed his glass down and stared at her with those intense dark eyes that made her fluttery and intimidated at the same time. A few minutes passed before he shifted in his seat and faced her.
“Does Timmy ask a lot about his dad?” he said.
Savannah let out an audible sigh. “Not really. Bret didn’t spend a lot of time with him.”
“Even so, it must be hard on the boy and even harder on his dad.”
Irritation pricked her skin. “I don’t think so. Timmy’s dad would never win a Father-of-the-Year award, and Timmy’s used to not seeing very much of him.” She took a sip of her drink. “Don’t judge or presume things you don’t know anything about.”
With his gaze fixed on hers, Ryder paused for a few heartbeats then said, “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what? How insensitive and cold Bret was to his own son?”
“Why you ran away from him.”
Blood rushed to her head and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she was sure he could hear it. Covering her face with her hands, Savannah breathed in and out deeply until the panic clawing at her subsided. Ryder didn’t bombard her with platitudes or ask what was wrong, he just sat there, and his silence comforted her. Slowly, her fingers slid down her face.
“He raped me,” she said in a soft, steady voice. Then she told him about her assault, the details spilling out of her like gum-balls from a broken candy machine.
As she told him about her marriage and how Bret had see-sawed from charming to manipulative until the cruel side of him took over after Timmy was born, it was like she was dissolving layers of anger, numbness, shame, and hate. It was liberating. Ryder was the only person she’d opened herself up to completely. Deep down inside, she knew he wouldn’t blame her for not pleasing her husband enough or not being the required perfect wife of a rich financier.
After several tissues, she leaned against the arm of the sofa, worn out. At some point during her monologue, Ryder had scooted over and placed Savannah’s legs on his lap, but he gently pushed them down and then drew her close as he encased her in his arms. She tilted her head back and gazed into his eyes.
“The pussy you’re married to doesn’t appreciate you one fucking bit. He’s a goddamn asshole. You deserve good things—like love, support, and happiness.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks again, but he wiped them away and planted a tender and loving kiss on her lips. His unconditional understanding buoyed her and helped to loosen the stranglehold of humiliation. He put his hands on each cheek and kissed her again, only this time it was more passionate, more possessive.
Ryder pulled his mouth away from hers. “I’d like just thirty minutes with that fucker to teach him a lesson. Goddamn sonofabitch,” his said in a low voice.
Savannah curled her fingers around his wrists. Every time he held her face between his hands, it felt like he was untying all of her knots.
“I just want to move on with my life, but I’m so damn afraid of him and his money. I’ll never let him take Timmy from me.”
“Come here,” he whispered.
Savannah pivoted around. Ryder put his arm around her, and she settled into the hollow of his neck. His body radiated warmth.
“I know he doesn’t give a shit about Timmy, but Corinne, his mom, is such a mean bitch. She won’t let this go.”
Ryder kissed the side of her hair. “You gotta face this. I’ll help you, and Cara can guide you with legal advice. No one’s taking Timmy from you—I won’t let them.”
Savannah wanted to ask about his son and why he let the mother of his child take Colt away, but she didn’t have the strength for it; she’d used up all her energy reliving that horrible day.
“I’m so happy I met you.” Wrapping her arm around his waist, she squeezed it. “I know this sounds cheesy, but I really feel like you are our Christmas wish come true. I don’t know what would’ve happened to us if you hadn’t come into our lives.”
Savannah didn’t expect Ryder to say anything—that wasn’t his way, but the way he held her tight and peppered kisses on her hair spoke volumes.
She burrowed deeper into the crook of his arm and closed her eyes.