Ryker

Flippin’ another pancake outta the pan with badass flare, it flops onto the dish I’m holding. Roxie and Scarlett cheer and my world gets a whole helluva lot brighter for it.

“Again!” Scarlett encourages, bouncing on her seat, all ready for her first day of school, sportin’ a glittery pink top and jeans. I found out today my girls have a thing for Converse. Between the two of them, they have six pairs. Three each.

To appease my daughter, I show off my skills with the twirl of the spatula and a flying flapjack that lands slightly off-kilter on its fluffy brother. Two pancakes down, I set those in front of Scarlett, pour a generous helping of syrup just how she likes, and top it with a pat of butter and a swirl of canned whipped cream. The same brand I used to enjoy licking off their mother. Mmmm … those were the days.

Scarlett mutters her thanks around a bite of pancake.

“Sorry I forgot to get bacon for ya,” I remark.

“It’s okay,” Roxie says as I pour two large pancakes into the pan to make her breakfast. At the clubhouse, it was Rox who got served first so I’m changing it up to keep it fair. See, I’m not a total moron. I’m down with the dad shit.

This morning, I may have turned off Katrina’s phone alarm so I could get up with the girls and she could sleep in. I reset it for an hour later to give her enough time to wipe the sleep from her eyes, and dress for us to leave. I wanted to savor this mornin’ with the girls, and after last night, my insides are raw as fuck. Kat sure knows how to bring a man to his knees. I barely slept a wink. Too busy replaying her words, guilt gnawing its way through my gut. By five, I gave up on sleep altogether and went for a two-mile run. Did a hundred pushups and enough crunches my abs are still on fire. It’s not as hard as it is for some to keep a body like this. But it’s not easy either. Instead of eatin’ pancakes, I’m havin’ a chocolate protein shake and six egg whites. It’s not the most appetizing, but I don’t think I could keep all the sugar down anyhow.

Waddlin’ out of the mouth of the hallway, hair mussed, still adorably half asleep, wearin’ my clothes, Kat shuffles over to the island and sits on the stool beside Roxie. “Mornin’.” She yawns behind her hand, head lethargically bouncin’ forward. There’s a pillow crease on her cheek.

She’s fuckin’ gorgeous.

I lift the spatula in greeting. “Mornin’. You sleep well?”

“That’s the nicest, most comfy bed I’ve ever slept in.”

Her appreciation soaks to the bone, fillin’ me with pride. Hell yeah. I did somethin’ right. Bought a mattress I knew she’d love.

Dazed, Kat rakes me with her confused gaze, turns, and does the same to our daughters. “Wait. Why are you dressed? And more pancakes, really?” Flickin’ her eyes to the microwave clock, they widen. “We have to leave in less than half an hour. Why am I just wakin’ up?”

She peers up at me, jaw set. It’s cute, her bein’ pissed in the mornin’, barely able to keep her eyelids open. She can bust my balls all she wants, ‘cause I’m not gonna apologize for spendin’ alone time with my kids and lettin’ her sleep in. She needs rest. Just as I need to bond, without her present. Not that I don’t want her around. I do. But, what I don’t need is snide remarks and judgment. Or, her sexy body distractin’ me, gettin’ Ryker Jr riled up when he’s not gonna get any.

Brushin’ her anger off with a shrug, I finish Rox’s pancakes with the same badass flourish as before and set them in front of her. I pour less syrup on top and forgo the butter, ‘cause that’s how she likes it. I remember these things. The whipped cream’s last, and I go crazy until I’ve got all three of my girls gigglin’ hysterically and a plate stacked with a mountain of white foam.

“That’s enough.” Rox holds her stomach, laughin’ so hard there are tears streamin’.

My love’s not fairin’ much better. Her face is red, eyes glistening.

Scarlett, the naughty little shit, swipes at the whipped cream with her fork, stealing some. Cracking a sly grin, she stuffs the entire pile into her tiny mouth, lookin’ like a chipmunk

Rippin’ off a paper towel from the roll next to the stove, I reach across the counter and swipe the leftover mess from Scarlett’s lips. Kat gasps a weird noise, and I freeze, the towel still touchin’ Scarlett’s mouth. Fuck. Did I do somethin’ wrong?

Scarlett, oblivious to the strangeness suddenly hangin’ in the air, snatches the paper towel from my hand. “Thanks,” she says, and dives back into what’s left of her breakfast.

Rox, cute as a button in her blue hoodie and jeans, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail she did herself, looks between me and her mom. There’s no need for her to be brought in to our drama. They’ve got enough to handle, ya know, with movin’ and startin’ a new school. That’s a lot for kids to deal with. And they’ve not complained once.

“Go on and eat. We gotta leave soon.” I slide her fork closer. She mutters her thanks, and shovels what’s left of the whipped cream onto Scarlett’s plate. Who devours it with youthful exuberance. My kids are too damn cute for words.

I turn my attention to Kat, who’s starin’ at me funny. “Why don’t you go get dressed, so we can take the girls to school.”

Nodding once, seemingly at a loss for words, she climbs off the stool and goes about her business. At least she’s not fightin’ me on it. For once. It’s a good thing, too. ‘Cause the last thing I wanna do is pop a boner in the kitchen with my kids present. It’s bad enough I’ve been half-hard since Kat sat her sleepy ass on that stool, well rested and adorable as hell.

“You got your backpacks and supplies ready to go?” I ask, loading the dishwasher.

“Yes. Grandpa Ghost got us everything we need already,” Rox replies.

I load the cups from the sink from their dinner last night. Kade said they had pizza and two liters of soda to wash it down with. “Good man. I put money on your lunch accounts yesterday, so you’ll be set to get whatever ya wanna eat.”

“Why would you do that?” Peering up at me expectantly, Scarlett slides her empty plate across the countertop.

“’Cause that’s what family does. We take care of each other.” And I’m your dad, so it’s my job.

Scarlett shoves Rox in the shoulder, knocking her off balance. “See. I told you he’s family.”

Rox scowls at her sister. “I didn’t say he wasn’t. I said he’s not our uncle. Mom and Uncle Kade said he wasn’t. Remember?”

“Oh. Then what is he?”

Alright. This is about to get uncomfortable quick. Time to change the subject. I clap my hands together. “How about you go get both your backpacks, Scarlett, while Rox finishes her breakfast.” I sideways glance at the clock. “We’ve gotta rock-n-roll in five.”

“Okay.” She jumps off the stool as happy as can be and skips down the hall, blonde locks swayin’.

Rox licks syrup from the tine of her fork, deep in thought. “I know who you are,” she utters, starin’ at her plate. “I promise not to tell Scarlett or Mom I know. It’d make Mom unhappy.”

Fuck.

Fuuuck.

“Wh-what is it ya think you know, baby girl?” I sputter, hands tremblin’. I hide them behind my back. Way to go, dumbass. Actin’ twitchy is a sure fire way to eradicate suspicion. Not… I all but confirmed what I know she’s about to say.

Goddammit! Kat’s gonna murder me and help Rosie bury my corpse.

Glancing over her shoulder, Rox dips her head low and covers her mouth with her hand, so her voice doesn’t carry. “You’re my dad,” she whispers.

Jesus. The kid pulls no punches. Though, it feels damn good to be called Dad for once.

Backed into a proverbial corner, I’ve got two choices. Deny deny deny. Or, do the right thing and tell my girl the truth.

Restin’ my elbows on the countertop, inches from Rox’s face, I hook a finger under her chin and tilt it up for her to look me straight on. Her eyes are glassy. Lips red from chewin’ ‘em. With one hand, she scratches her arm anxiously. Yeah. I can’t lie. Not with those round, trustin’ eyes starin’ into mine, beggin’ for the truth—for a dad. For me. Swallowin’ thickly, I ask, “You wanna tell me how you came to that conclusion before your sister and mom get back?”

“Mom doesn’t know, but I looked in the box under her bed once. She’s got pictures of you there. I recognized you at that place we stayed.” She touches the side of her face. “I look like you. Even more than Scarlett does. And we both have your eyes. The same ones Uncle Kade and Papa have.”

Checkin’ the coast is still clear, I cup her cheek. She leans into the touch, on the verge of crying. “I fu—messed up. Your mom doesn't want you to know who I am, yet. She’s gotta trust me first. But, don’t you worry. I’m not goin’ anywhere ever again. You get that?”

Her precious bottom lip wobbles, socking me in the gut. “Don’t cry, baby girl.”

“I never had a dad,” she mumbles, taking a deep, quivering breath. A lone tear trickles down her cheek, and I catch it with my thumb.

Emotions grip my throat, refusin’ to ease. “No more of that. I’m not goin’ anywhere. This’ll be our little secret. You ever wanna talk about it, or ask me somethin’, you can. I’m your dad. I may not be the best dad. But I’m gonna try to be. You good with that?”

“Come on, Mom! Ryker doesn’t care if you wear lipstick!” Scarlett yells, exasperated. The stomping of her foot echoes off the walls. “We’re gonna be late!”

Rox and I share an amused look. I drop my palm as we crack dual grins. “Mom’s gonna be so mad. She hates when Scarlett gets like this.”

“Are you like that?” Drawing back to stand upright, I arch a teasing brow and wink.

Rox shakes her head, her grin curving into a charming ear-to-ear smile. “Never. I know better. Mom’s gonna skin her hide.”

“Scarlett, don’t you dare talk to me that way unless you want mama to bring the hammer down,” Kat scolds, her words easy enough to hear.

Squeaking under her breath, Roxie makes a fist and slams it on her open palm—bringin’ the hammer down. “She’s in trrrouble.”

Two sets of footsteps thud against the hardwood. A fresh-faced Kat emerges first with a sullen Scarlett on her heels. My love’s rockin’ that red lipstick. It complements her AC/DC hoodie, messy top bun, librarian glasses, leggings, and black glittery Converse perfectly. Some guys want their ladies all dolled up to be proud of the pussy on their arm. Not me. I’m proud as a motherfuckin’ peacock with a snot-nosed, sick as hell, pukin’ her guts out, Kat. Not that I want her sick. You get what I mean. I don’t need her tits hangin’ out for me to know she’s bangin’. I’ve seen her naked hundreds of times, pregnant and not. Her body’s a cock-pumpin’ masterpiece in any form.

“Are ya ready to head?” I ask, takin’ Roxie’s plate and settin’ it in the sink to rinse later.

She hops off her stool to join her mom and sister. “I’m ready.” Rox’s hand smooths down the sides of her hoodie. Scarlett mopes, handin’ her sis a black starred backpack.

Kat slings her purse over her shoulder. “Yep. Let’s go.”

Leadin’ the way, we make it out to the Suburban in no time. Tuggin’ the spare keys from my front pocket, I unlock the truck and escort Kat to her door, opening it like a tattooed knight in shining leather. She flashes me this strange expression I can’t decipher before climbin’ inside. Shuttin’ her door, I round the hood and get in. Checkin’ my rearview mirror, I make sure the girls are buckled, then reverse outta the gravel drive, kickin’ up rocks.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re sittin’ in the drop off line for school. “Don’t sweat it, girls. I went to school here. It’s a nice place.” My stab at enthusiasm falls on deaf ears as Rox and Scarlett stare out the window, watching the other kids. When it’s our turn for them to get out, Kat waves them forth. They quietly peck their mom’s cheek and exit the vehicle.

“Have a good day!” I two-finger wave. Roxie returns the sentiment with a small smile. Scarlett ignores me. I try not to let that sting. It’s impossible. Rejection sucks.

“Love you!” Katrina blubbers, removing her glasses to wipe her eyes.

God. I hate it when she gets weepy. It makes me wanna do relationshipy stuff. Huggin’, kissin’, cuddlin’— stuff she’d never let me get away with. The nightmare affection was a fluke. I’m smart enough to understand that won’t be happenin’ again.

“Love you, too, Mommy.”

Scarlett shuts the door and joins her sister on the sidewalk. I wait a few seconds, watchin’ them walk away until the asshole behind me honks his horn. Who the fuck does this douche canoe think he is? I grab the door handle, ready to pound his face in for disruptin’ this priceless moment I’ve been waitin’ a lifetime to experience. Kat’s hand on my arm is the only thing that stops me from makin’ a bloody scene. Instead, I roll down my window, stick my arm out, and flip him the bird. He can suck my testicles. Magically, there’s no more honkin’. Satisfied the prick doesn’t retaliate for his own good, I release the break and coast outta the parking lot.

“You were gonna beat the shit outta that guy in the car behind us,” Kat remarks once we’re on the road home. I can’t tell if she’s impressed or disgusted. With her, I’m never sure.

“I have wanted to see my kids off to school since they were born. He tried to ruin that. He’s lucky you were here. Or I woulda made him piss his pretty boy pants.”

Turning right, I slow to an easy forty to bide time. When I get back to the cabin, I gotta jump on the bike and ride to Vanessa’s to check in before goin’ to the clubhouse. We’ve got important club business to attend to. If it were up to me, I’d ditch my responsibilities and cook Kat a big breakfast. Not pancakes, ‘cause, apparently, she’s written those off. Then we’d talk. Not chitchat. Not argue. Really catch up. Somethin’ we haven’t done yet. Unfortunately, duty calls.

Proppin’ her feet on the dash, Kat stares vacantly out the window, lost in thought. I let her be. Droppin’ the girls off at a new school wasn’t easy on her, so I’m not about to make things worse. Takin’ the scenic route home, I give her time to decompress before returning.

Killin’ the engine behind the cabin, and pocketing the keys, I grip the steering wheel, preparin’ myself to say goodbye. I don’t understand why it’s always hard to leave her. It shouldn’t be this time. Not when I know she’s gonna be here when I get back tonight. And the next time. And the time after that. Even though my mind gets it, my heart’s a tricky fucker. It’s achin’ so fiercely I might as well carve it outta my chest and give it to her. The damn thing hadn’t started beatin’ again until she came ‘round. It’d been black as black, for years. This emotional, feelin’, achin’ shit is no joke. Not sure I like it. The guilt was almost easier to bear. At least that could be assuaged with a bottle of Jack.

Kat pushes open her door but doesn’t move to get out. “I know this is weird being around me. It’s not easy to see you either. But I understand where your duty lies. You’re welcome to see the girls whenever. I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything. I just wanna survive whatever this is and go home. I’m not gonna be a thorn in your side. That’s not what I want. So don’t worry about me turning into some jealous ex when you gotta go spend time with your wife. I’m not gonna ask questions. Your life. Your business. All I ask is that you respect me enough not to play games. We’ve traveled down that road before. The last thing I want is to get dragged down by it again. Once was enough.”

With that, she climbs down and shuts the door before my brain gets a chance to process.

Heaving a sigh, I glide a palm over the top of my bald head. It’s stubbly. About time I shave.

Playin’ games? Does she think that’s what I’m all about? I’m not playin’ anything. My life’s a complicated mess. I’m married to one person, and in love with another. Both of which are carryin’ my kids. Add the club war brewin’ and I’ve got myself the biggest cluster fuck of cluster fucks to navigate without endin’ up dead or in jail.

Screw it. I don’t have time to dissect Kat’s words. I’ve got shit to do. Starting with visiting Vanessa, who’s been blowin’ up my phone about her baby doctor’s appointment since six this mornin’.

Fuck my life.