Yet he couldn’t help himself. The level of comfort he was settling into with Laney was hinting at something so much more. He’d spent nights in her bed, the selfish jerk that he was. Ryker just couldn’t tear himself away. He’d mentally pushed Laney away for so long, for so many reasons—his childhood was crap and didn’t know how to do a relationship, her father had trusted Ryker to always do the right thing, Laney was ten years younger. The list went on and on, pounding away at Ryker’s mind.
Frustrated at his insecurities, he pulled over two of the long boards and a pack of screws. That took no time to put together. Perhaps this wouldn’t be such a pain and he could have it done by the time Laney woke up.
The sun hadn’t even come up yet, so hopefully she’d sleep a little longer. She needed it. Their baby needed it.
Maybe if this crib got assembled, and didn’t fall apart, he’d take her out to pick out something else she wanted. He hadn’t gotten her a Christmas present. Hell, what would he even get her? She was all sparkles and grace, and he was a wolf in an Italian suit when his leathers wouldn’t suffice.
Their worlds may have collided and run parallel for the past several years, but that didn’t mean they were on the same playing field.
By the time Ryker got to the sides of the antique, white sleigh-style crib, he was ready to chuck the entire thing out the window and buy her one already assembled.
“I was going to have someone come in and do that for me.”
Ryker jerked around. Laney stood in the doorway, her silk robe knotted around her still-narrow waist, her dark hair tousled all around her shoulders. A lump settled heavily in Ryker’s throat. How could he take the mob princess and attempt to fit into her world? Not physically, but mentally. He was a damn mess inside, and he didn’t need to pay anyone to tell him that.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked before turning back to the mayhem that posed as a baby bed.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in here, but he needed a break. Ryker came to his feet, brushing his hands on the boxer briefs he’d slept in.
“The bed was lonely,” she told him, raking her bedroom eyes over his nearly bare body.
Her smoldering looks never failed to make his body stir. The need for her had never been in question. If all of this was physical, if she wasn’t Patrick O’Shea’s daughter, hell, if she were anybody else, none of this would be in question.
“What’s that look about?” She tipped her head to the side and crossed to him. “You found the scrolls, but you still look as if the weight of the world is on your shoulders.”
Maybe because it was. The baby, the need to want Laney in his life more... Ryker wasn’t even getting into how Braden and Mac still didn’t approve. That he could handle. It was the rest of it he wasn’t sure of.
“Ryker?”
He closed his eyes and willed his demons to stand down, but they were rearing their ugly heads even harsher than usual.
“We need to take some time—”
“What? Are you seriously going to tell me you need time?” Laney crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t be clichéd, Ryker. I already told you I was waiting for you, that I’d be here for you.”
At least one of them was strong right now.
He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes burning from lack of sleep. “I can’t get this damn thing together.”
“The crib?” Her brows drew in. “This isn’t a big deal.”
It was everything.
“Do you know my father threw a glass table at me when I was seven?” he asked, needing her to understand. He ran a fingertip along the scar on his chest. “A piece ricocheted off the wall and hit me here. That wasn’t the only time he lost his temper, Laney.”
“And you think this is going to change how I look at you? Because you’re nothing like him.”
With a snort, Ryker shook his head. “I’m exactly like him. You do know what I’ve done for your family for years, right? When you were learning to write cursive in school, I was already doing all the dirty work.”
Her eyes narrowed. In a move he didn’t predict, she reached up, planted her palms on his bare chest and gave him a shove.
“If you’re going to be a coward and worry about losing your temper with me or our baby, then get out. I won’t wait around for you when you’re acting like this. I know the man inside, but clearly you have yet to meet him.”
Her rage shattered him. “Are you willing to take the chance? I’ve never done the traditional family thing, and I have one good memory of the first twelve years of my life. That’s all.”
“Then you should be more determined to make memories with your child.”
Could he? Was that even in him? He had no clue what children wanted. All he knew was what Laney deserved.