Chapter Nineteen
For the first time in a long time, Claire had no idea what she was doing.
There was a gorgeous man in her kitchen, filling her house with the smells of sautéing onion, the bright burst of tomatoes, spinach wilting with garlic and lemon in the pan.
Meanwhile, her daughter was methodically bringing out every stuffed animal she owned to introduce to Ryan. Considering she was the only child of the only child of two adoring grandparents, there were a lot of introductions to be made.
And Claire was happy. Sipping a glass of red wine he’d insisted on pouring for her, keeping Maya from getting tangled up in his feet as he moved around her kitchen, she felt…normal. Relaxed.
It wasn’t the heady excitement of being twenty and in love, but something different. Something that could last.
She swallowed her wine too quickly as soon as she had the thought. She was getting way too far ahead of herself. Ryan hadn’t said anything about not going to Chicago. And while he might be all about spending time with them now, this was a vacation for him. A break from his real life.
He could go through all the motions, but what about when Chicago called, and his band, his next album, demanded his attention? Claire and Maya couldn’t give him fame or success. And she’d already dropped everything and moved across the country with him once. She wasn’t doing anything like that ever again. She was too settled here in Gold Mountain. If he actually asked her to come to Chicago, the answer would have to be no.
So there was no future for them. Which meant she should end this now, before it became even harder.
But when she stepped out of her last-minute massage session to see Maya sitting in his lap, his large hands enveloping hers as he patiently showed her how to play the guitar, all her resolve left her.
If he hadn’t invited himself over for dinner first, the words would have slipped out anyway. Come over. Spend the night with me. Show me who I belong to—again.
“Earth to Claire,” she heard, and she blinked. “Salad bowl?”
Right. Making dinner. Not jumping his bones.
Although the sight of him with a spatula in one hand and a stuffed bear in the other was kind of a turn-on.
Claire got out the bowl and tongs and tried to help him by whisking up a dressing, but he was so insistent that she get out of the kitchen that she finally relented and went to make sure Maya was coloring in her coloring book and not on her other favorite spot, the floor.
“Are you sure I can’t help?” she called, not sure what to do with this feeling of uselessness in her own home.
“You’re supposed to be experiencing this novel sensation called relaxation,” he told her. “Give it a try, you might like it.”
He gave his sexiest tight-lipped smile and turned back to the stove, where at least she had the satisfaction of watching his butt in those jeans.
The other unexpected perk of having Ryan cook—aside from the view—was that Maya, normally a picky eater, went for everything just because he’d made it. Then came the promised ice cream, and they sat around clinking spoons and pretending to share with the dinosaurs.
After dinner, Maya and Ryan played in the living room while Claire cleaned up. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear them talking, laughing, Ryan asking questions, Maya chattering up a storm. When she reluctantly went to tell them it was late and Ryan had to get home, Maya begged so hard for him to read her a bedtime story that she didn’t have the heart to say no.
And of course, that was only an excuse. She didn’t want him to leave, either. She stood in the doorway, the wings of her heart fluttering in her chest as she looked at the two of them curled up in Maya’s twin bed while he read to her about a fish missing its hat.
Then Maya wanted Claire to read a story, so it was the three of them smooshed all together, until finally Claire turned out the light, kissed Maya on the forehead, and led him downstairs.
“I’m exhausted,” he said with a laugh.
“You were a champ.”
“Is she always this energetic?”
“When she’s not throwing a fit.”
“Oh,” he said. “I guess I got off easy, then.”
“Just wait until she’s no longer showing off for you.”
She shouldn’t have said that, implying there’d be some time in the future when Ryan was so familiar Maya wouldn’t need to be on her best behavior for him. Maybe a time when Maya knew Ryan was her father, not just some “friend” coming over. A time when this wasn’t a special, out-of-the ordinary night.
“So,” she said awkwardly. “Thank you for dinner.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“And for picking up Maya.”
“Also my pleasure.”
“I owe you one.”
He stepped toward her. “That would be my pleasure, too.” He paused. “Or should I say, your pleasure?”
She swallowed, heat flaming her face. “I don’t even know if Maya’s asleep yet.”
He nodded, suddenly serious. “I should go. I know it’s late, and I don’t want to impose.” He moved toward the door, the perfect gentleman.
But she didn’t want a gentleman. “What if I want to be imposed on?” she said quietly.
He turned instantly and reached for her.
“Remember everything I told you last night?” he whispered, biting her earlobe gently before kissing down her neck with a touch so light it made her tremble.
“I remember.” It’s only been replaying in my mind all day.
“That’s everything I’m going to do to you. And then some.”
Claire’s breath caught. Maya wasn’t a light sleeper. But there was no telling what might happen on any given night. She might stumble out of bed to pee or get a drink of water and hear something, come downstairs, and need thousands of dollars in therapy for the rest of her life.
But it was too late to send Ryan home. There was no hope that she could still backtrack, return to that time when her heart had hardened over, leaving no space for Ryan Thomas in her life.
He slid his arms down her back and held her closer. She fit so perfectly against his body. No matter what changed, she still felt at home in his arms.
And some changes, she realized, were good ones. Ryan wasn’t the same man she’d had to leave when she was pregnant. She didn’t need to be the same person, either—tentative, waiting, desperate to be good.
This was what she needed. Him. Now.
She grabbed the front of his shirt in her fists and yanked him to her, pressing her mouth up to his.