Unexpected Reality (Unexpected Arrivals 1)
“Kendall, I can—”
“Eat, Ridge. This little guy is going to be hungry soon. We had a plan, remember?”
“Dammit, Kendall, we need to talk about this.”
“And we will, when it’s just us, without half the town listening in.”
“I won’t lose you over her,” he says emphatically.
I reach across the table and he grabs my hand immediately. “You won’t. Just eat. We’re going to finish our lunch, and I promise we can talk after.”
He nods, bringing my hand to his mouth for a soft kiss before releasing me. I finish off my cheese sticks just as Ridge finishes eating. I pass Knox off to him so he can eat too. I try to focus on my lunch, but it’s rude to not make eye contact when talking and Ridge . . . well, he’s sexy and distracting. He’s currently still brooding, this big tough guy holding this tiny baby. It’s an image that will forever be engrained in my memory.
Chapter 33
Ridge
As soon as we walk out of the diner, I run into Mr. Williams and his wife. The guys and I just built them a new home a few months back.
“Ridge, hi! Good to see you,” he says, holding out his hand for me to shake. “You remember my wife, Nancy.”
I nod to his wife. “Good to see you.”
“You too. Who is this little one?” she asks, stepping closer to peer into the car seat.
“This is my son, Knox, and this is my girlfriend, Kendall,” I introduce them.
“He’s adorable,” Mrs. Williams says. She stands and addresses Kendall. “You have a beautiful family.”
My girl doesn’t miss a beat. “Thank you,” she says politely.
She could have made the situation awkward as hell, but she didn’t. Instead, she claimed us, me and my son. It takes everything in me not to pull her to me and kiss the hell out of her.
“Well, we won’t keep you. Good to see you, Ridge,” Mr. Williams says, holding the door open for his wife.
As soon as the door closes, I look over at Kendall. “You don’t know how bad I want to kiss you right now.”
She inches closer and stands on tiptoes. “What’s stopping you?”
I close the distance and kiss her. It’s not how I want to, but it serves the purpose of calming me the hell down. I’ve never wanted to hit a woman, not until today. Not even when Stephanie showed up at the hospital. That day, I was just done. I knew she wasn’t someone I could see going the distance with, and after she opened her mouth I knew it was over. Bet or not, I never wanted to see her again.
Today, though? Today, I wanted to hit her. She called my son a bastard and disrespected Kendall. I was barely controlling my anger when her hand slid over mine. Just the simple touch of her skin against mine made it better.
“Where are we headed?” she asks once we’re back on the road.
“Home.”
She doesn’t say anything, and it probably has to do with the fact that I snapped the word at her. I’m still mad as hell over Stephanie and, even more than that, afraid Kendall’s going to walk. That I’m going to have to spend my time convincing her that she’s what I want, instead of kissing her. I reach over and grab her hand, lacing our fingers together. She doesn’t pull away, and I take that as a good sign.
Once we make it back to my house, I grab Knox while Kendall insists on taking the diaper bag. As soon as the seat hits the couch, she goes to work unbuckling him. He stretches his little body, and I fight the urge to pull out my phone and take a picture.
“How about some play time?” Kendall sits him on the floor under this baby gym thing Mom brought over. I watch as he stares up at each object while Kendall either moves them or squeezes them to make noise. He’s fascinated.
Needing to be closer to them, I lie on the floor behind Kendall, sliding in close and pressing my body next to hers. I hold myself up with one arm while the other rests on her hip.
“Cuteness overload,” she says when my boy smiles up at the bear that crackles every time she touches it.
Not able to help myself, I kiss her shoulder. “I’m sorry about today, with Stephanie.”
“Not your fault.”
“It is. I was kind of dating her when Knox was born.”
She looks over her shoulder at me, and her face has this ‘are you kidding me’ expression.
“It was a bet,” I ramble on, and then feel her stiffen. “Let me explain, please.”
She nods, but continues to stare down at my son. I tell her how the bet came about, how Stephanie was never my match, and admit that I was with her for the wrong reasons. I tell her about the day Knox was born, how Stephanie showed up at the hospital and started spewing shit about not wanting to be a fill-in. I tell her how I ended it right then and haven’t thought about her since. “I know how it sounds, and I’m sure you don’t think too highly of me right now.”
She’s quiet and lays her head down, using her arm as a pillow, resting her other hand on Knox’s belly. I remain silent, giving her the time she needs to process everything I’ve just told her. She’s still here in my arms, so that gives me hope.
“I would’ve never expected that from you. The way you are with Knox, the way you are with me . . . I’m having a hard time seeing you as the guy who plays with someone’s emotions for a simple bet.”
She’s right. “It was wrong. I realize that now. I was so caught up in just taking the bet that I didn’t think about how it would end.”
“And the guys. I’m just . . . disappointed, really.”
Shit. “We didn’t do it to harm anyone, and Stephanie isn’t without her faults as well. Not that that excuses what I did, of course.”
“Did you win?”
“No. I still had a month to go when Knox was born.”
“So, if Melissa hadn’t been in that accident, if Knox weren’t here, I would’ve never met you? Well, we might have crossed paths, but you would be with her.”
The way she says “with her” tells me she’s not taking this very well.
I lift her hair off her shoulder and rest my chin there. “I would like to think that, no matter what my situation was at the time, when I met you I would’ve still been smart enough to realize you were what I wanted.”
She offers her finger to Knox and he latches on. “So this little guy, not only is he your gift, but he’s mine too.”
I’m not sure what she means, so I wait patiently for her to continue, all the while saying a silent prayer that she doesn’t kick my sorry ass to the curb.
She removes her hand from his grip and turns to look at me. I back up so she has room to lie on her back. Propping myself up on my elbow, I look down at her. I want to kiss her, to tell her she never has to worry about me playing games with her, but I need her to come to that conclusion on her own. No matter how long it takes her to get there, I’ll give her that time. Not having her in our lives is not an option at this point.
I’m too far gone.
“He brought you to me. I was convinced that I was finished with relationships. Cal had left a wound so deep I never thought it would fill.”
Needing to touch her, I trace her jawline with my index finger. She shivers at the contact.
“Knox brought you to me.”
She closes her eyes, and I want to demand that she open them. I can’t get a good read on what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling when those baby blues aren’t looking at me.
When she finally does open them, there’s a sea of emotion staring back at me. “Not only are you filling the wound, you’re healing my soul. I will admit that what you’ve told me about your relationship with Stephanie, it bothers me. However, you’ve never once made me feel like I was any less than everything in your eyes. Call me crazy, but I’m not willing to give that up. It’s a feeling I’m quickly becoming addicted to.”
I place my lips next to hers, and this time, I let her take the lead. She doesn’t disappoint, her tongue tracing my lips, silently asking me to open for her. I do. Hell fucking yes, I do, in every way
possible. My heart, my head, my soul, and my mouth to taste her. Everything I am is open for her.
Just her.
My sweet girl.
She slides her tongue against mine and I grip her hip, pulling her closer to me. I just can’t seem to ever be close enough to her. I want to fucking devour her, but I don’t. I hold back, letting her show me how far she wants to take this. Whatever she wants, she gets.
“Ridge,” she says, pulling away.
“Yeah, babe?” I kiss down her jaw, tracing her neck with my tongue.
“There’s someone at the door.”
“Don’t care,” I mumble against her neck.
“Ridge.” She laughs, one so carefree I vow to hear it daily.