Chapter Nine
Brutus’s cold nose pressed against Ryder’s face, and he groaned as he cracked open his eyes. The dog’s soft whine prompted Ryder to throw off the covers and push up. His good leg bumped into something warm and soft, and when he looked over his shoulder, his eyes widened as his body went stiff.
“What the fuck?” he said under his breath as he stared at Savannah sleeping peacefully beside him. He sat up, closed his eyes for a minute and then slowly opened them, expecting Savannah to be gone, but she wasn’t. The sheet draped around her tempting curves, and the way her sweet lips parted enticed him to slip his tongue inside for a taste.
Shaking his head, he tried to figure out how the hell Savannah had landed in his bed. There was no way he wouldn’t have remembered fucking her. The kiss they’d shared was still etched on his lips, so he was pretty sure slamming his cock inside her while he played with her tits wouldn’t be something he’d forget.
Several whimpers from Brutus focused Ryder. He grabbed his crutches and hauled himself up, then he left the room.
A blast of cold air gushed in when he opened the door to let Brutus out. After closing it quickly, he crutched into the kitchen and leaned forward against the granite counter. The sun’s rays bouncing off the snow made him squint as visions of Savannah swirled in his head: her arms wrapped around him as they kissed, the sliver of skin when she raised her arms, the way her shorts rode up and showed off her thighs, and her soft lips alternately sweet and wicked on his. His dick twitched against his boxers and he cursed softly. If I can’t remember fucking her, then I might as well pack it in. We must’ve done something ’cause there’s no way she would’ve come into my room for nothing. I can’t remember shit when I take those damn pain meds. Fuck!
For the past week, Ryder had been jerking off to various scenarios that starred Savannah and him fucking in a variety of ways, and to think it might have happened without him remembering was a cruel kick in his balls.
As he shut his eyes against the sun’s glare, blurred memories from the previous night started to come into focus: his unit in Afghanistan engaging in combat against militants, driving the sonsofbitches farther back in the province … the firing ceasing … he and several men cautiously moving in to clear the cluster of old Afghani houses … Jeremy following.
“Fuck!” Ryder hit the side of his head with the heel of his palm. Recollections of Savannah’s soft, comforting words pulling him out of the war filled his mind. She must’ve heard me screaming. That’s why she came to my bed. Dammit! He’d been trying so fucking hard to control the demons that lurked inside him, never wanting her to see the times they clawed their way out. Since Savannah and Timmy had come to stay with him, Ryder had been so careful to thwart any triggers that would threaten to expose how fucked up he was, but he’d failed. I probably scared the shit outta her. Then he remembered her soft hands on his face and the way she held him until he fell asleep.
Brutus barked at the back door, and Ryder hopped over to let him in. He grabbed the towel off the hook, then sank down on the bench and dried the dog off before heading back to the kitchen to fill Brutus’s bowl with dried food. The room echoed with the dog’s teeth crunching noisily as dread wove around his ragged nerves. What if she pities me after last night’s fucking display? The one thing he hated was pity, and if he saw that look in Savannah’s eyes, it would crush him for sure. Why the hell did I have to lose it last night?
The landline rang, stopping his thoughts as he hopped over to the wall and picked up the receiver.
“Hey, dude. Rags and me are gonna come by and dig you out,” Throttle said.
“It’s about fucking time,” Ryder replied, plopping down on the chair.
Throttle laughed. “Did you run outta whiskey?”
“Believe it or not, I didn’t.”
“What the fuck, bro?”
“Been busy with stuff. What time are you guys coming by?”
“In an hour or so. We’ll use two of our big-ass snowplows, so you should be able to take your four-wheeler out after we’re done. Hawk and Animal are gonna come by and help out with the shoveling. Should we bring some Jack?”
“Yeah. I only have moonshine whiskey.”
“Tom’s?”
“Yep. It’s all right in a pinch, but I miss the good stuff. I’ll feed you fuckers. Chili okay?”
“Hell, yeah. Besides Jax’s old lady, you make the best fuckin’ chili.”
“I heard Cherri’s is kickass. I’ll have to try it sometime,” Ryder said.
“You gotta get in on poker nights when Jax hosts. That’s when she makes it, and she always serves it with homemade cornbread. Fuck, it’s good,” Throttle replied.
Ryder heard a woman talking in the background, and he shook his head. It was still surreal for him to picture Throttle with an old lady. The man was a confirmed bachelor and loved the perks of hooking up with his choice of the many wild women who were so much a part of the outlaw biker lifestyle. If he’d taken bets on which of the Insurgents’ brothers would never be tied down to one woman, Hawk and Throttle would’ve come to mind right off the bat, and Ryder would’ve lost the bet big time. His two brothers were both married, and Hawk even had a couple of kids. All at once, loneliness and a deep longing for something he couldn’t articulate seized him, and he sputtered and coughed from the intensity of it.
“You okay?” Concern laced Throttle’s voice.
“Yeah. Just swallowed funny. Is that your old lady talking to you?”
Throttle chuckled. “Yep. Kimber has a habit of talking to me when I’m on the fuckin’ phone. Let me hang up and see what she wants. I’ll see you in a bit, bro.”
Ryder held the receiver in his hand for several minutes before placing it back in its cradle. For the last few years he’d relished his solitude, but since Savannah and her son had entered his life, feelings and thoughts he hadn’t had for a very long time started poking at him, and he didn’t like it. Having them around dredged up bad memories he’d long since quashed, or so he thought.
Brutus barked and Ryder jerked his head up to glance in the direction at which the dog was looking. Timmy’s pajama-clad body hugged the doorway, and his messy mop of dark hair and sprinkle of freckles across his nose and cheeks reminded Ryder of Colt when he’d been about Timmy’s age. Ryder’s heart squeezed in his chest as he pushed himself up. “Where’s your leg?” Timmy asked in a low voice, his eyes bulging.
“Lost it.” Ryder went over to the island and reclined against it.
“Can’t you find it?”
Ryder chuckled. “Nope. It’s gone. The doc cut it off.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Sure did, but not so much anymore.”
“Oh.” He scrunched up his face while staring at Ryder. “Did the doctor cut it last night?”
Ryder’s face crinkled in laughter. “Nope. It happened several years ago. I have a fake leg.”
“You do?”
“I’ll show it to you sometime.” Ryder was ready to ask Timmy if he wanted to come to his room to see, but then he remembered that Savannah was in his bed. “You hungry?”
“Uh-huh.”
Ryder handed a banana to the boy. “Eat this for now, and I’ll be back in a bit. Do you like pancakes?”
“They’re my favorite. Mommy always makes a smiley face on them.”
Damn, this kid is killing me. “I don’t do that, but you’re gonna like them anyway.” He looked at Brutus. “Stay with Timmy, boy.”
When Ryder entered the bedroom, Savannah wasn’t there. He glanced at the open bathroom door and wondered if he’d imagined that she’d been in his bed. It wouldn’t surprise him if he did since she’s been on his mind so damn fucking much for the past week. He sighed and locked the bedroom door, not wanting her to see him without his leg. He sat at the edge of the bed and massaged lotion on his skin. A limb, especially an above-knee cut, took time to shape back into the fit of the prosthetic.
After almost an hour, Ryder was dressed and ready to make Timmy a stack of his killer pancakes. He snapped his fingers then remembered that Brutus was with the boy. Shaking his head, Ryder chuckled; the German shepherd had really taken a liking to the boy.
The scent of dark-roasted coffee beans wafted around him as he made his way to the kitchen. When he entered the room, Ryder found Timmy sitting at the table coloring a picture, and Savannah washing dishes by the sink. He sucked in a sharp breath and ambled over to the pantry.
“Morning,” he said gruffly without even a sideways glance at her. He couldn’t bear it if she had “the look” on her face: sad smile, eyes filled with pain, and sympathetic creases across the forehead.
“Good morning,” she replied cheerfully. “I just made a pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?”
“Yeah.” He scanned the shelves looking for the baking powder and flour.
“Black, right?”
“Yeah.” He grabbed several items.
“Timmy tells me you’re making pancakes. He loves them.” A small laugh floated in the air. “I have to admit, I do too.”
She’s trying so fucking hard to be perky. He slammed the ingredients he needed on the counter. “I’m not much for small talk.”
A soft hiss of breath. “Oh … I’m sorry,” she said.
For the next half hour, Ryder flipped flapjacks while Timmy watched in fascination and Savannah read the cereal box on the table for the tenth time.
The only one chatting and laughing during breakfast was Timmy, and he seemed unaware of the strained tension between Ryder and Savannah.
“I ate too much,” Timmy said, putting his hands on his belly.
“Means you liked it,” Ryder said, as he stood up.
“I’ll wash the dishes since you made breakfast.” Savannah started to collect the plates.
“Sit down. I’ll do it. I got friends coming by to dig us out.”
“That’s good, but what does that have to do with me helping with the cleanup?” Savannah gathered the dishes and brought them over to the sink.
“I told you to sit the fuck down, woman.” He looked at her and met her glare. It was the first time since he’d walked into the kitchen that he looked directly at her. He grunted and turned away.
“Can I leave the table, Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetie. Do you want to play Chutes and Ladders?”
“No. Maybe Qwirkle. Do you wanna play with us, Ryder? It’s really fun.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Another time. I gotta make some chow for my friends.”
“Why don’t you get the game out, and you and I can play it in your room?” Savannah said.
“Can we play here?”
“I think Ryder wants to be alone. We can set the board up on the floor in your room.”
Savannah’s soft and understanding voice grated on his nerves like sandpaper. “I don’t give a fuck if you want to play here,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Timmy set the game up in your room, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Ryder heard the chair scrape against the floor then the soft thud of retreating footsteps. He opened the dishwasher and put the breakfast plates in.
“It’s okay to be mad at me, but don’t take it out on Timmy. I also don’t appreciate you using bad language around him.”
Ryder froze—the utensils in his hand—as licks of fury blazed through him. Pushing down his ire, he turned around to face her. Savannah glared at him, her cheeks flushing.
“Why’re you so mad at me? Is it because of the kiss?”
Staring at her clenched fists, Ryder drew in a deep breath which didn’t abate his anger one bit but gave the illusion of calm. “No—I’ve forgotten all about it.” He felt some sort of perverse pleasure when she flinched.
“Then what’s your problem?”
“I don’t like being told what the fuck I can say in my own goddamn house.” He watched her swallow, watched that beautiful mouth strain as she tried to form the words. Ryder didn’t want to remember the feel of her in his arms or her soft lips on his. He scratched his unshaven face and huffed; he hated wanting her.
“Once your friends clear the area, Timmy and I will go to a hotel in town. I’m sorry we’ve been such an intrusion into your life,” she said.
Bitter regret rushed through him, and he was furious with himself, with Savannah, with everyone. He watched her walk away but stood rooted to the floor as pride mixed with anger stopped him from calling out to her. Long after she’d left, he stayed there staring until something inside him twisted like barbwire.
The loud roar of snow plows cut through the crushing silence, and Ryder realized that he hadn’t even started making the chili yet. As he chopped onions, garlic, and hot peppers, he realized that he was pissed at Savannah because she’d witnessed his PTSD episode the night before. Shame flooded through him at the thought of her seeing him at one of his most vulnerable moments. He hated the fact that he was helpless at times … that he was weak. Her damn cheeriness that morning, pretending that he wasn’t a fucking mess of a man the night before infuriated him. Anger was the fire; vulnerability was the fuel.
“Fuck it!” He threw the knife across the cutting board. “If she wants to go, that’s fine. I don’t need any woman feeling sorry for me.” Then Dana’s face popped into his head, and he staggered over to the kitchen table and crumpled onto the chair. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as memories flooded his mind. Ryder forced out painful thoughts and focused on the conversation he’d had with Dana while recovering at the hospital after the surgery.
“I’m not coming,” Dana said sternly.
“This is the second time you’ve canceled. I need to see you, baby. I fucking miss you.”
A too-long pause; uneasiness began to claw at him.
“What’s going on?” Ryder held his breath.
“I can’t handle this.”
“This?”
“The loss of your leg. Thinking of you like that turns my stomach. I can’t do it.”
Her words were arrows to his heart.
Ryder cleared his throat. “I’m the same person. I need you to help me get through this. I need you and Colt.”
“I’m sorry, but deformities … amputations, all that kind of stuff has always creeped me out. I know it makes me sound like a horrible person, but I can’t help it. You have your family to get you through this.”
“It’s not the fucking same. You and I are going to be married for fuck’s sake.” His mouth felt like the Sahara Desert; he reached over and grabbed the glass and took a deep drink of water. “I need to see and hold Colt.”
“I can’t marry you. I’m sorry … I really am.”
“Fuck you! You don’t have to see me, but you’re not going to deny me my son. I’ll send two tickets. Your ass will come to the hospital, and the nurse will bring him in to see me.”
Another pause.
“Okay. Send the tickets, but I won’t change my mind about visiting you. It’s over. Again … I’m sorry.”
“You never fucking came,” Ryder said out loud. “You took my son and left. I never got to say goodbye to him.”
Brutus erupted in a barking fit when a loud bang on the window dragged Ryder from the past. He looked over and saw Hawk’s grinning face. Ryder lifted his chin at him. I gotta get a fucking grip on things. I’m blaming Savannah for Dana hurting me. But truthfully, he was scared to death that Savannah now saw him as less of a man just like Dana had. Dammit to hell!
“Open the fuckin’ door. It’s cold as shit out here,” Hawk said.
Brutus ran to the door barking as Ryder rose to his feet. “Brutus, calm the fuck down!” he yelled, turning the doorknob.
“How’re you doing, buddy?” Hawk stomped his feet then shrugged off his jacket and gloves before kicking off his boots. Animal, one step behind Hawk, followed suit.
“Not bad. Thanks for helping out,” Ryder replied.
“No worries.” Hawk smacked him on the back. “Throttle said you’re making chili. Why the fuck don’t I smell anything?”
“Yeah,” Animal added. “I was thinking about it as I shoveled.”
“Just starting it now. Have a seat in the family room, and I’ll join you guys in a bit.”
Hawk and Animal put four bottles of Jack on the counter. “We need three glasses, bro,” Animal said.
Hawk went over to the cupboard and took them down. “Throttle and Rags should be done in a few.” He handed the tumbler to Ryder, and the three men clinked glasses together before throwing back the shot.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Ryder said, pouring more of the amber liquid in their glasses. “Jack’s one of my best friends.” The men laughed.
“I’m pretty sure we can all say that.” Animal raised his arm. “Here’s to Jack.”
Taking two of the whiskey bottles with them, the two Insurgents sauntered into the family room and sank down on the couch while Ryder hurriedly browned the meat, spices, and onion mixture.
An hour later, a pungent, smoky aroma wafted through the air as the men sat in front of the fire, popping nuts and pretzels in their mouths and talking about motorcycles as the chili simmered on the stove.
“Do you have any bottled water, bro?” Animal asked, standing up.
“In the fridge,” Ryder replied. Having his brothers around him was the best medicine for busting up his earlier self-pity party. I couldn’t have been any more pathetic.
“Bring me one,” Throttle said.
“Me too,” Rags added.
Animal grumbled something under his breath, and the guys chortled.
“How’s your dad doing?” Ryder asked as Animal handed him the water bottle.
“He’s got his good and bad days. I ran by there earlier today, and he seemed in good spirits, but he’s also good at faking it.” Animal unscrewed the bottle and took a big gulp.
“Tell him I said hi.” Ryder stared at the fire and a comfortable silence fell over the group. Animal’s dad had it way worse than Ryder did—two of his legs had gotten blown to smithereens in Iraq.
“Who the hell’s that?” Rags muttered.
Ryder looked up and saw his brothers staring over his shoulder. He craned his neck and his gaze fell on Savannah. She’d changed into a long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of snug blue jeans. Her golden hair fell loosely over her shoulders in waves, and he wanted to reach out and bury his fingers in its silkiness.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his voice a nearly silent rasp.
Savannah turned her head and looked at him. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her face; her eyes were a little puffy and red, and he could tell she’d been crying. At that moment, he loathed himself for doing that to her.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said softly. Their gazes locked for a few seconds, then she looked away.
Ryder pivoted in his seat to look right at her. “You’re not.” He pointed at Hawk. “This is Hawk.” Then he introduced the others, ending with, “and this is Savannah.”
The men’s eyes darted from Savannah to Ryder then back to Savannah.
“It’s good meeting a … friend of Ryder’s,” Hawk said, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Yeah. We don’t get to meet many of his wo—I mean friends.” Rags grinned.
“Did you get my juice, Mommy?” Timmy said, stopping behind Savannah and peeking out at the bikers behind his mother’s shapely legs.
“Who do we have here?” Hawk asked.
Timmy hid behind his mother.
“You gonna come over here and give us five?” Throttle asked.
“What’s that?” Timmy whispered.
Hawk held out his hand. “Go ahead and hit it with yours.”
“These are my friends,” Ryder said. “It’s cool.”
Timmy shuffled slowly over and tapped his hand against Hawk’s palm then he stepped back, his eyes wide.
“That a boy. How old are you?” Hawk leaned back against the chair’s cushion.
“Six.”
“My boy’s five and our president’s son is six. Maybe you can all play together sometime,” Hawk said.
Timmy looked up at his mother. “Can I, Mommy?”
“We’ll see. Let’s go in the kitchen to get you some juice. I’m sure Ryder and his friends are busy visiting.” She gripped his hand. “It was nice meeting you,” she said before disappearing to the other room.
“I better check on the chili,” Ryder said, standing up.
“Yeah, you do that.” Animal guffawed, and the other men joined in.
“Fuck you,” Ryder gritted as he made his way to the kitchen.
When he entered, he saw Savannah pouring a glass of apple juice in a mug while Timmy sat on one of the stools. Ryder went over to the stove and lifted up the lid, then he stirred the contents in the pot. He added more chili powder and a few dashes of cayenne pepper.
“Is that going to be our lunch?” Timmy asked.
Ryder glanced at the wall clock. “It’s looking like it’s gonna be more like your dinner.” He chuckled and Timmy giggled.
“Here you go,” Savannah said, going around to the other side of the island as if to avoid getting close to Ryder. She placed the mug down on the counter. “Do you want to bring it to your room?”
Timmy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head.
“Then hurry up.”
“There’s no need to rush. You and the boy can stay in here if you want.”
“I wouldn’t dream of intruding.” Savannah picked at her nail.
He walked over to her. “You’re not. Don’t mind the shit I said earlier—I didn’t mean it.”
She looked up at him with those eyes—so soft and blue, and he wanted to yank her to him and kiss her deeply, but he just stared back. A strand of hair fell across her cheek, and he reached out and brushed it away, his fingertips touching her delicate skin. He pulled away quickly, amazed at his self-control.
“We can go into town tomorrow. I know you want to get some things.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Ryder turned to leave, but he stopped and held her gaze. “Are we all right now?”
“I don’t know.” Savannah blinked. “I did something to make you mad,” she continued, her eyebrows squishing together, “but I don’t know what it was. I wish you would just talk to me.”
“It’s me. I was having a bad day.”
“Then talk to me.”
He paused for a moment then clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders. “I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.” He ignored her exasperated sigh and walked out of the kitchen.
When Savannah and Timmy retreated back to the boy’s room, Animal shook his head. “Now I get why you haven’t been coming around for some pussy at the club.”
The other bikers cajoled, and Throttle and Rags poked Ryder in the ribs.
“How long has this been going on?” Hawk asked.
“Nothing’s going on. Get your fucking heads out of the damn gutter. I’m just helping her and her son.”
“I bet you are,” Animal said, and the men busted out.
“They were stranded on my property. She’s driving this shit trailer, and they got caught in the snow storm. I didn’t want to have to deal with two dead bodies on my property, so I invited them to stay until the blizzard passed. That’s all there is to it.”
“Bullshit.” Hawk’s deep blue eyes sparkled.
“We’re just roommates.” Ryder scowled.
“Fuckin’ bullshit,” Rags added.
“I never had a roommate like that,” Animal said which made the men laugh.
“Brandi keeps asking ’bout you whenever she sees me. I told her you were trapped alone in the cabin, so she’s ready to come by and do a fuckin’ house call.” Hawk shook his head. “Damn, bro. These past several days, I was fuckin’ feeling sorry for you ’cause you weren’t getting any.” He poured whiskey in all the glasses. “You sly sonofabitch.” He threw back his drink.
The men continued to rib Ryder while trying to dig for more information about Savannah, but he just sat there shaking his head and kept telling them he saw her just as a friend. He knew they didn’t believe that bullshit for one second, and he didn’t either, but he didn’t want to talk about her to his friends.
For the rest of the night, Savannah and Timmy stayed away, but she was very much present in Ryder’s mind. As the men ate, drank, and talked, he relived their kiss over and over: the softness of her skin, the curve of her ass cupped in his hands, and their tongues twisting and probing each other’s mouths as her body pressed against his. Savannah drove him wild with animal lust between the taste of her sweet mouth and her soft moans, to the way she smelled so damn good. He was stiffening even now, just remembering it.
“Great dinner, dude.” Throttle stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “I gotta get going. Do you wanna meet up with us at Ruthie’s tomorrow for lunch?”
“Uh … I’m not sure,” Ryder said, trying to focus on what Throttle was saying.
“He’s got his mind on that hot blonde.” Animal laughed.
Ryder glared. “I’ve got some things I gotta get done tomorrow. I’ll let you know if I can join you. What time will you be there?”
“About one. Show up if you can. I’m beat.”
Rags nodded. “Me too. Great chili, dude.” He bumped fists with Ryder.
“Why don’t you bring Savannah by our house so she can meet Cara? I think it’d be good for her son to play with Braxton. I can have Banger bring Harley by,” Hawk said as he slipped on his jacket.
“That’s a good idea. I know she wants to buy some Christmas presents for Timmy, so if he’s occupied, it’ll make it easier for her,” Ryder replied.
“You’re giving a shit about Christmas?” Throttle said.
“Haven’t you been a fuckin’ Scrooge about it for years?” Animal asked, slipping on his gloves.
“I’m talking about her and the boy, not me,” Ryder growled.
“Gotcha.” Animal smirked.
“So they’ll be here for the charity event?” Hawk asked.
“Yeah. Probably through the new year.” Ryder opened the door and hoped the frigid air blowing in would put an end to the conversation.
“Looks like Ruthie’s isn’t gonna happen for you, seeing that you’re taking your roommate and her son to Hawk’s tomorrow.” Throttle wrapped his scarf around his neck.
“Another time.” Ryder looked over at Hawk. “I’m gonna try and make the meeting at the VA next Tuesday. You gonna be there?”
“Yep.” Hawk clasped his shoulder. “See you tomorrow around noon, okay?”
“Sure.”
Ryder watched the men trudge down the walkway until they disappeared into the cold night. He shut the door and waited for Brutus to come back from doing his business, and he wondered what Savannah was doing right at that moment. The hour was late, so he figured Timmy had already gone to bed, and a strong urge to go to her room seized him.
Brutus barked and Ryder opened the door then locked it. He put out the fire in the fireplace and ambled down the hallway, pausing in front of Savannah’s closed door for a few seconds. He quirked his lips then slowly walked to his room.