He nodded, not saying anything. Ryan still wasn’t the talkative type, but the days leading up to our first Christmas together definitely reminded me of our early days as captive and captor, when he rarely spoke a word to me, much less opened up about his feelings.
I, too, was nervous. This was the first time Mom and Talia would visit us for dinner—on Christmas Eve no less. Talia had been over to our apartment on occasion when Ryan was home but Mom had only met him a couple of times at social events since she was in New York. She preferred to avoid him.
Ryan and I both kept busy with preparations while the dogs watched us curiously from their baskets. They were still weary of the newest addition to our apartment: a Christmas tree. This was the first time they encountered one, but I’d insisted we have it as part of our Christmas decoration.
The bell rang, making me jump. Coco perked up and Bandit jumped out of his basket with a deep woof before he trotted to the door. Coco followed him half-heartedly.
“You get the door,” Ryan said. “Your mother and sister will feel more comfortable if you greet them.”
I shook my head and grabbed his hand before I pulled him toward the entrance door. “You and I are together in this.”
He squeezed my hand briefly but his face was devoid of emotion. I put on my brightest smile and opened the door. Mother and Talia waited in front of it as if they were about to face their executioner. Luckily, Talia caught herself fast and stepped close to me for a hug.
“Is Mom going to make a mess of tonight?” I whispered.
Talia shrugged. “Probably.”
I pulled away and faced my mother. She stood frozen in the hallway, giving me a stiff smile but her eyes kept flitting to Ryan. I didn’t get any Christmas mood vibes from her.
“Hello Cara,” Mother said almost formally, clutching her purse in front of her belly like a shield.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Talia awkwardly shake Ryan’s hand. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever seen Ryan shake anyone’s hand at all. The sight almost had me bursting out laughing.
I invited Mom in but she was as stiff as a salt pillar, her eyes directed at Coco and Bandit who waited in the hallway behind us. Talia’s initial fear during her first visits had been replaced by tentative affection. She even stroked Coco’s back who was more approachable than Bandit. His trust issues with humans went deeper.
“It’s okay, Mom. They accept visitors as long as we do. They won’t do anything.”
I had to drag Mom inside and then I led her into the living area with the small dining table. I’d decorated everything in gold and red to give it a cozy feel. Bandit and Coco both headed toward their baskets after a sign from Ryan.
“Good evening,” Mom said to him with a stiff smile, holding out her hand.
Ryan took it and shook it very briefly, probably picking up on Mom’s obvious discomfort.
“How about we sit down and have dinner?” I said quickly before the tension could rise.
After Talia and Mom had left, Ryan went out to walk the dogs and I cleaned the kitchen. He took longer than usual, a sign that he needed time to think.
When he finally returned and sank down on the sofa, I approached him. His expression was guarded.
“It went okay, don’t you think?” I asked softly. It hadn’t been the easy-going, warm Christmas dinner other families might have, but events like that had always been a rather formal affair with my family, and that hadn’t improved.
Ryan shrugged, stroking Coco’s head. “It went better than I thought. Your mother won’t ever get over who I was and who I still am.”
“You changed. You aren’t the person everyone feared in Las Vegas.”
“I’m now the person people fear in New York, Cara. I’m still Enforcer. Of course, Luca isn’t as depraved as Falcone.”
“My mother has no problem with Luca’s level of depravity so she can’t blame you for what you’re doing in his name.”
“Fear is immune to reason,” he rasped. I stepped between his legs, forcing his eyes to raise to mine.
“My sister and mother will learn to accept you if they love me because I love you. End of story,” I said firmly. Ryan grabbed me by the hips, his amber eyes intense. I knew the look and my core answered with a familiar tightening.
“I love you too,” he growled.
His big hands slid to the back of my skirt, jerking down the zipper almost brutally. It wouldn’t be the first piece of clothing I lost to Ryan’s overeager, too strong hands. The moment the zipper was down he started dragging my skirt down my legs impatiently. It dropped to the floor beside my feet. Coco trotted away, knowing what was coming.