I woke with a groan, stretching out the sore and overworked muscles of my body from the night before. Ryland was beside me, stroking his hand over my hip while his eyes drank in my naked form. He looked oddly at peace, considering the war that had been waged between us the night before. 

He didn’t speak. He simply rolled me onto my back and positioned his body over mine, pushing inside of me in a way that was new and unexpected. Gentle. Unhurried.

The sun filtered in through the window, highlighting the beautiful lines of his body as he moved above me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, and now that I’d revealed the truth, I didn’t feel the need to. I kissed his neck, inhaling the faint notes of Amber and Cinnamon he now wore all the time. I wondered if it was because he knew how much I loved it.

He brought me to orgasm twice before taking his own. When he collapsed beside me and threaded his fingers through mine, I didn’t want it to be over. Because if it was over that meant we’d have to talk. To discuss the one thing that was big enough to tear us apart. The issue of my family. Of Brayden.

As though sensing my withdrawal, he kissed me softly and moved from the bed, retrieving some clean clothes from the dresser across the room. He walked towards the bathroom and glanced over his shoulder, pausing as he struggled to find the right words.

 “I left something there for you.” He nodded to the bedside table.

The door closed behind him, and I picked up the tablet beside me. When I saw my brother’s name typed into the search box, and the results that followed, my breath stuttered in my chest.

I almost didn’t want to believe it was real. It was easier to think this was some sort of cruel trick than the truth. But as I clicked on article after article, they all said the same thing.

Shocking new evidence in the Valentine Murder case. The State’s Attorney of Cook County released a statement at seven am this morning. The details are being kept under wraps, but he confirmed there is new evidence being considered.

The news outlets were rife with speculation about what this could mean, and there was only one man with the power to move things this fast.

Tears clogged my eyes when I understood why Ryland had left me so abruptly. It was a test. He wanted to see if I’d meant what I said. If now that the evidence was turned over, I would fulfill my end of the bargain.

I dropped the tablet on the bed and padded into the bathroom. When I opened the shower door, he gave me a wary look before I bounded into his arms.

“Ryland, what you’ve just done…”

“This doesn’t change anything, Brighton,” he cut me off. “You belong to me now. Regardless of what happens with Brayden.”

I chose to ignore the biting tone of his voice as I nuzzled against his chest.

 “I know,” I whispered. “I’m yours, Ryland.”

 

 

***

 

I smoothed the silky black material through my fingers as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

“Does it look… okay?”

“It looks like I want to tear it off of you right now,” he murmured into my hair as he smoothed his hand up my side.

“Yeah right. I know how much this dress cost,” I retorted.

It was the real reason I was uncomfortable. I’d never worn anything this expensive in my life. But if I was being honest, it was the sexiest dress I’d ever seen. Elegant and simple, with the added bonus of making my legs look long for the first time in my life. The material clung to my body in a way that with just the right touch, it would slide off of me like butter. There was sex appeal in that, and I could certainly see it reflected in Ryland’s eyes as his hands roamed over me.

 “Do you think I give a fuck about that?” he asked. “You belong to me now, baby girl. And I take care of what’s mine.”

I flashed him a nervous smile as my knees wobbled beneath me. When he said those words, it sounded like this was a permanent arrangement in his mind. And yet, he couldn’t admit he had feelings for me. As happy as I was about Brayden, I kept feeling like I was missing something. A larger part of the puzzle. Ryland still hadn’t revealed his reasons for doing what he’d done, and when I thought about it, it all seemed too easy. Like I’d played right into his hands somehow. I didn’t like to think that way, but what choice did I have?

As though he could sense my mind wandering into dangerous territory, Ryland distracted me by dragging his fingertips up my spine.

“This is my favorite part,” he confessed.

“It’s a beautiful dress,” I admitted. “I can only imagine how much trouble you went through to get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I may be from a lower class,” I quipped. “But even I know this is one of the best designers in Spain.”

He arched an eyebrow at me, and I smiled at the surprise that lay beneath the surface of those blue depths.

“I guess you don’t know everything about me after all, Ryland Bennett. Like my weakness for fashion.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I didn’t know that before. But now that I do, I’ll be certain to put it to good use.”

“You can’t,” I let the words fall from my mouth in a moment of rare honesty.

“Brighton…” His voice held a hint of warning, and I smiled at him. He thought I was being modest, but he had no idea.

“I do like fashion,” I explained. “But not because I want to own nice pieces, even though they are lovely…”

My words trailed off as I tried to find the courage to finish. Revealing such a childish dream to someone as successful as Ryland was ridiculous now that I thought about it. I wished I’d never said anything at all.

“Tell me,” he breathed against my throat.

I closed my eyes and relaxed into his warmth, allowing the words to spill free.

“I like to sew them,” I explained. “Unique pieces, I mean.”

“You know how to sew?” he sounded genuinely perplexed as he spun me around and studied my face.

“Well, I didn’t for a long time,” I admitted. “But one of our neighbors did. Mrs. Wilson. She was a cranky old lady that I convinced to teach me.”

“And how did you do that?” Ryland asked.

“She agreed to let me cook her meals twice a week in exchange for some sewing lessons,” I explained. “It wasn’t a great offer since I wasn’t a very a good cook. But she still taught me anyway, and I got pretty good at it.”

Ryland let out a hearty laugh that shocked me, and pretty soon I was laughing too.

“You surprise me sometimes,” he said. “A lot actually.”

I smiled, but his rare moment of honesty was dimmed by the darkness taking over his features again.

“So what happened with the sewing?” he asked. “Do you still do it?”

I shrugged and cast my eyes to the floor. “I sewed a few prom dresses every year for some of the locals, until Brayden’s… well, until, you know. Naively I thought it was something I could really do. It was how I stayed sane I guess, dreaming of creating my own designs and doing what I loved.”

“You still could,” Ryland said softly. “You’re only twenty-one, Brighton. You still have your whole life ahead of you.”

I shook my head and gave him a weak smile. “Those kinds of dreams are for people who don’t have to face reality,” I replied.

For the first time since I’d known him, Ryland actually looked guilty. Was it because he thought he was helping to destroy my dreams? If that was the case, it couldn’t be farther from the truth. The truth was I was too much of a coward to go after a dream that big. Every time I’d even considered it, I would hear Norma-Jean’s voice inside of my head. She’d tell me that kind of stuff was for rich kids who didn’t have to work. And though I never liked to give her credit, I knew she was right.

“Here.”

Ryland walked around in front of me and handed me another one of his signature red flowers. I twirled the stem in my fingers and brought it to my nose, inhaling the subtle fragrance.

“Why always these flowers?” I asked.

He smiled as though he’d been expecting this question and trailed his fingertips over the delicate petals.

“Do you know what the lotus symbolizes?”

“Not really,” I answered. “But I know they grow in mud, right?”

“Yes.” He moved his fingertips to my face, his eyes lingering on mine while he explained. “They grow from the most unexpected of places, and for that reason, many cultures regard them as a symbol of purity and beauty. It was the same thing I thought the first time I saw you.”

“You did?” I blinked in surprise.

“It was unexpected,” he admitted. “To see a girl like you in that place. From that family. So pure and kind and innocent. I didn’t think it could be real, but you’ve proven me wrong, Brighton. You prove me wrong every day.”