Chapter Twenty-One
Okay, so she was nervous. Sophie didn’t have a lot of experience meeting the parents. She kind of stayed away from meeting the parents. But here she was, dressed in a pretty red and white print sundress, ready to meet Ryder’s entire family.
She stared at the door leading into the big frame house where he’d grown up. Ryder’s childhood home appeared as idyllic as he’d claimed. The two-story home was white with black trim, with a big wraparound porch. It looked exactly what it was, a family home in small-town America.
Completely foreign to her. Everyone who mattered to Ryder was behind that door. She attempted to tug her hand from his, but he tightened his hold as he moved to open the door.
Right before he did, she experienced a swell of panic. “Ryder.”
He turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing . . . but . . .”
He shifted, curled his hand behind her neck, and brushed his mouth over hers. “Trust me. They’re going to love you.”
She clutched at his arm. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. Butterflies didn’t dance in her stomach; they were slamming around in there like it was the headbangers’ ball. “Okay.”
He kissed her again.
She closed her eyes, loving the feel of his mouth on hers, wanting it to soak in before she had to be proper for the next five hours.
So, of course, his mom opened the door.
He lifted his head and turned his attention to the older woman with shoulder length chestnut hair and amused blue eyes. He flashed her a grin. “Hey, Mom.”
She raised a brow. “I thought I heard you.”
Sophie flushed to the roots of her hair. Oh dear God.
Still holding her hand, he tilted his head at her. “This is Sophie.”
“I’d hope so, all things considering.” Her expression appeared amused, but Sophie really had no idea.
She cleared her throat and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Moore.”
The older woman waved her hand away and held out her arms, laughing. “None of that.” Then she swept Sophie up in a big hug. “I’m so glad you came.”
Sophie immediately relaxed and hugged the other woman back. “Thanks for having me.”
Ryder’s mom released Sophie before waving a hand. “And please, call me Catherine. Even after thirty-six years of marriage, Mrs. Moore still makes me feel like my mother-in-law. Come on in.”
They walked into an airy foyer with taupe walls and white trim.
Catherine pointed down the hall. “We’re all out back.”
The house was modern, light and happy. While Sophie had a hard time picturing the man who did such devious things to her as a boy, she had no trouble seeing raising a family in such a place.
“Your house is lovely,” Sophie said, her tone polite.
“Thank you.” Catherine craned to peer back at her. “We’ll give you a proper tour later, after you’ve met everyone.”
“I’d like that,” Sophie said, following the older woman.
Ryder gave her fingers a little squeeze. In response, she squeezed back, realizing what a couple thing it was to do. That somehow, in the last month Ryder had become her significant other, an unexpected turn of events she still wasn’t ready to think about. Later she would, but for now she’d focus on having fun and getting a glimpse into the boy he’d been and the family he came from.
They walked through a large, open kitchen—with a table big enough to hold a family of five nestled into an eating nook—before exiting out the back door and onto a spacious deck.
Three sets of eyes turned to look at her from an outdoor table covered by an umbrella.
Ryder’s dad smiled at her with the same silver eyes as his son, but his hair was a light dirty blond touched with gray. Except for the coloring, it was like staring at a future version of Ryder. “Well, hello there.”
Ryder tugged her forward. “Hey, Dad. This is Sophie.” He turned to Sophie and made a gesture that encompassed the whole table. “This is my dad, Ron and my two sisters.” He pointed to a striking woman with long dark hair and light silvery-blue eyes, maybe a few years younger than Sophie. “This is Jessica.” Then he pointed at a honey-blond girl with blue eyes like her mom’s. “And Hailey.”
Ryder’s sisters were gorgeous. Absolute stunners.
This was one beautiful family, and all of them had clearly hit the genetic jackpot.
Sophie smiled at them. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Come on, let’s go sit.” Catherine walked over to the table and took a seat next to Ryder’s dad.
They did, and as soon as Sophie got comfortable, Jessica leaned over the table. Her unusual eyes sparkled with amusement. “So you’re the one.”
“The one?” Sophie asked, feeling a rush of nerves again.
Jessica laughed. “The one that’s got my brother calling and asking what to bring you to eat.”
Sophie shrugged. “What can I say? He’s a good neighbor.”
Ryder rolled his eyes. “Let’s get her something to drink before you grill her.”
Catherine gestured to the cart next to the table. “What can we get you, Sophie?”
“I’m not at all picky. I’ll take whatever’s closest.”
There were a few minutes of drinks being passed, filled with polite, slightly awkward chitchat. Next time Sophie looked down, a big glass of vodka splashed with lemonade was plopped in front of her.
“I figured it might help take the edge off.” Hailey winked, pointing at the pale drink. “This meeting-the-family stuff is hell.”
Sophie laughed. “It’s not the most relaxed I’ve ever been.”
Jessica picked up her own pale drink and leaned back in her chair. “That’s why anytime a guy I’m dating gets any ideas, I instantly break up with him.”
Catherine clucked her tongue. “Don’t listen to her. She’s terrible.”
Ryder scowled. “Yeah, don’t give her ideas, Jess.”
Jessica grinned at Sophie, shrugging. “What can I say, I’m terminally commitment-phobic.”
“For no good reason.” Catherine shook her head, giving her oldest daughter an exasperated glare. “You grew up with two loving parents and a stable home.”
“I like my freedom,” Jessica said.
“Yeah, Mom, she don’t need no man,” Hailey added.
Catherine huffed. “You girls.”
Hailey put her crossed arms on the table and said to Sophie, “So tell us everything about you. And we do mean everything.”
Sophie ran her hand over her glass. “Well, okay, let’s see. I’m thirty-one, I live in Chicago, I work in public relations and marketing, I’m an only child and my parents are eccentric, meditating Buddhists that travel the world.” She turned to Ryder. “I think that sums it up, don’t you?”
Ryder put his hand on the back of her chair. “Not even close.”
Hailey turned to her brother. “And what would you add?”
Ryder gave Sophie a once-over and she had to admit she was curious about his answer. “She’s smart, funny, high-spirited, and never, ever boring.”
Sophie’s heart did a quick pitter-pat before she about melted into his gaze. She beamed at him. “Thank you.”
He brushed a lock of her hair from her shoulder. “That’s just scratching the surface.”
Their gazes met and held, and all of a sudden it felt unbearably intimate between them. She glanced away to find four interested people staring at her with smiles on their faces.
She took a drink of her lemonade-spiked vodka and prayed for a change of subject.
* * *
Ryder was putting dishes in the sink when his mom finally cornered him. It had been a good afternoon, filled with lots of embarrassing stories about him. They made Sophie laugh, so he didn’t mind too much.
He smiled at his mom. “Are you here to grill me?”
“Not grill. I never grill.” She leaned back against the counter. “I do like her, though.”
“Good. So do I.” He opened the dishwasher.
“Do you?”
He turned his attention toward his mom, his instincts going on high alert. “What does that mean?”
“It means I think you more than like her.” Her expression turned smug. “In fact, you’re in love with her.”
He laughed. “It’s only been a month. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“I’m not. A mother knows. And you’re in love with her.” She picked up a pretzel from the bowl on the counter. “You just don’t recognize it because you’ve never felt it before.”
His brow furrowed. That was going too far. Yes, he liked her. Yes, he liked her more than any other woman he’d ever been with. But love? It was too soon for love.
“Mom.” His tone filled with warning.
She held up her hands. “I know. I know.”
He put a cup into the dishwasher. “But I’m glad you like her.”
“I do.” Her expression creased with worry. “What are you going to do when she leaves?”
Panic about kicked him in the gut. “I’m not going to worry about that right now. She’s here, everyone loves her, she’s doing a great job, and we’re having fun. That’s all I’m focusing on at the moment.”
“Ryder,” she said, her voice taking on that motherly tone from his youth.
“Mooommm.” He gave her a quick hug. “It will be okay, I promise.”
She smiled. “I don’t want you hurt.”
It was already too late for that. There’d be no getting around being hurt unless he somehow managed to convince her to stay. Convince her they were worth it. “I’ll be fine.”
She nodded. “I really do like her, but more than that, I like the way you look at her.”
“And how do I look at her?”
“Like she matters. There was a time I’d thought you were incapable of that. I’m happy to be wrong.”
He grinned. “I wasn’t that bad.”
She popped another pretzel into her mouth, chewing slowly before she swallowed. “You’ve always been a wonderful son and brother, but you’ve always stayed detached from women. I don’t know why you and Jessica are like that. Maybe we raised you too comfortable.”
“There’s not one thing wrong with how you raised us. You gave us an ideal childhood. There’s no fault in that. It’s the dream, right?”
“I suppose.” She glanced out the window to their family sitting around the table. “But I wonder if maybe we gave you kids the impression that it was easy, so it lost its value.”
“Mom, that’s not true. You guys are what I value most.”
She smiled. “And now you add Sophie to that list.”
“I do.”
“Then I’m going to give you some unwanted advice.”
He sighed, wiping his hands and giving her his complete attention. “All right.”
“However it looks, what your father and I have, it’s not easy. You have to work for it. Fight for it. Show up every single day and refuse to let it go. That’s what it takes to love someone for the long haul.”
He glanced at Sophie laughing at something Hailey said. Her blond hair shimmered like gold in the late-afternoon sun. After the initial awkwardness of meeting everyone, she’d slid right in, and he could tell by the way his sisters glommed onto her that she was one of them.
They tried on her Chanel sunglasses, oohing and aahing over them, even though to him they were just sunglasses. They had an extensive discussion about shoes that had his eyes glazing over.
But the biggest tell was that Jessica and Hailey had asked Sophie to their next girls’ night out. They loved her. She fit with them.
With him.
He nodded. “I’ll remember that.”
“Good.” His mom gave him a quick hug and tilted her head toward the door. “I’ll meet you outside.”
She took her leave, and he once again started to load the dishwasher. It would only take him a short time and his mom would be grateful, so he was happy to do it.
Five minutes later, Sophie walked in, smiling at him. “Hi.”
He dropped the dish towel and walked over to her, putting his arms around her and brushing his mouth over hers. “Are you glad you came?”
“I am.” She rose to her tiptoes, and he bent down so she could whisper in his ear. “But there’s one thing I want to see.”
“What’s that?” He rubbed a hand down her spine, already thinking illicit thoughts.
“I need to see pictures of you as a kid.” She leaned back to gaze up at him. “I’m finding I have a hard time picturing it.”
“Baby pictures, huh?”
She nodded.
He raised a brow. “What are you willing to do for them?”
“What do you want?” She chuckled huskily.
He had ideas, but he wanted hers instead. “Make me an offer.”
She tilted her head, pretending to think about it. “What about your handcuffs?”
And look at that, they were thinking the same thing. He nipped her bottom lip. “You want me to handcuff you to the bed so I can torture you for a few hours?”
A sly cunning lit her brown eyes. “Nope. I want to handcuff you to the bed and torture you for a few hours.”
He laughed, chucking her under the chin. “Never going to happen.”
“Don’t be a chicken.”
“I’m not, but we both know we like it best when I’m in control.”
She batted her lashes. “True, but I want to see how wild I can make you for precisely that reason.”
“I can’t wait to hear this logic.” He grinned down at her, loving everything about her.
“Let me have my way with you until you can’t take it anymore.” She lowered her voice until it was all smoke and heat. “I know you. I know how you are. The crazier you get, the more domineering you become.”
He raised a brow, catching her line of thought. “And?”
Her smile was pure feline. “When I finally let you go, I get to reap the rewards of all that mean, raw sex. A win-win, for both of us.”
See, what other woman would want that? Would get that about him? Nobody but Sophie. She was like him that way, insatiable and dirty.
He growled and fisted her hair. “That does sound like a good time.”
Her pupils dilated. “And it can be all yours for the low, low price of some pictures.”
“Deal.” He kissed her, hard and fierce, before pulling her toward the living room where there was a fireplace mantel full of pictures.
When they stood in front of it, she picked up a picture of him when he was about five, seated on a bike. She smiled. “Is this you?”
“It is.” He wasn’t looking at the picture, but at her.
She traced her fingers over the wooden frame. “You were adorable.”
He chuckled. “Don’t I look like a badass?”
“You look like an angel.”
He mock scowled. “No way. Look at me, I’m a rebel.” In the photo, he wore a Star Wars R2D2 T-shirt, Darth Vader Underoos, and gym shoes.
She laughed. “Do you think your mom would give it to me?”
“Like I’d let her. There is no way I’m handing over blackmail material with your evil streak.”
She turned her attention to him, her eyes narrowed with menace. “Mark my words, this picture will be mine.”
He rolled his eyes at her.
She laughed and moved on down the mantel that contained his childhood memories. She picked up one picture after another, studying it carefully, asking a few questions and moving on.
She reached the end and picked up a family picture of the five of them from a couple of years ago. “Where was this from?”
“Christmas.” He curved a hand around her hips. “We have a cabin in the woods, and every Christmas we go up there, just us.”
Her head tilted as she stared at the picture. “Does your mom make hot chocolate?”
“Only if it’s laced with alcohol.”
She laughed, the sound shooting straight through him. “Do you have traditions?”
He squeezed her. “Yeah.”
The wistfulness in her tone almost broke him. “What are they?”
“We go up a few days early and decorate the tree. Then we laze around. We talk, play games, and bake cookies, eating half the dough and making the other half. Then on Christmas Eve we have a big dinner and my mom gives us Christmas pajamas.”
She jerked her head up. “You have Christmas pajamas?”
He chuckled. “Yes, more than I care to admit to.”
Her whole face lit up. “Will you wear them for me?”
“That will require additional negotiation.”
“What a hardship.” She puffed out her bottom lip in a pout before returning her attention to the picture. “And then what?”
He walked her through the rest of their Christmas tradition. “We stay up late, drink and eat too much before going to bed and waking up to open presents the next morning.”
She rubbed her hand over the frame again, and when she spoke, her voice was longing. “It’s like a Hallmark card. What’s it like to grow up like that?”
He thought of her parents, giving her a roof over her head but no real home to latch onto. How must that have been for her? Especially in contrast to her best friend’s big, loving family.
He put his arm on the mantel, and looked down at her. “It was really awesome.”
“You’re lucky, I hope you know that.”
“I do.” There were shadows hidden in her eyes as he asked her, “What did you do for Christmas?”
She put the frame down and shrugged. “Nothing. My parents thought Christmas was too commercial and didn’t want to support the consumerism economy. Usually, if they weren’t hosting some sort of hostel for strays, they made me go to a soup kitchen and help the poor.” Her smile quivered in the corners. “So at least I was doing something good for humanity.”
He scowled. “They didn’t give you anything?”
“Only handmade gifts we were allowed to spend zero dollars on.”
He shook his head. “That explains some of your shopping habits.”
Some of her tension lightened and she batted his arm. “I’m a girl. That explains my shopping habits. But it wasn’t too bad. Once I got older and had a job, Penelope, Maddie, and I exchanged gifts, and Mr. and Mrs. Donovan always let us come over late on Christmas. So I got to experience the holidays by proxy.”
He looked down at this tiny slip of a woman who’d thrown his entire life for a loop, and he wanted to give her everything. He leaned down and kissed her. “You deserve a proper Christmas.”
She shrugged. “It was fine.”
It wasn’t, but he could tell she wasn’t comfortable talking about it any longer. So he let it go. “When we go to Chicago, are you going to show me your pictures?”
Her face lit up. “Do you want to see them?”
“I want to know everything about you, Sophie.”
Her eyes grew bright, as though it surprised her. “Okay.”
Deep down, two things hit him at once.
Sophie was surprised because she’d never had someone want to know all about her before. Yes, her friends loved her, but her foundation—her parents, who clearly put their own ideology before their daughter’s happiness—she had no idea what that was like. The only boy she’d ever loved had manipulated her and abandoned her. She had no real concept of something he’d been given so freely and unconditionally he’d taken it for granted. He wanted to change that for her.
His mom was right.
He was in love with Sophie Kincaid.