Chapter Thirty - Rachel
CHAPTER THIRTY
Rachel
I peer around the corner, triple-checking that no one is here as I walk the path to the garden.
The weather is absolutely beautiful, and I refuse to stay inside—even though I’ve been explicitly instructed to.
I imagine Ryder won’t be pleased when he learns I convinced Alec to get me antacids from the base so I could sneak out to come here—as if I go anywhere without a bottle of Tums these days.
I happen to think it was a stroke of genius on my part.
Getting out of the cabin to spend time in the warm and lively garden is worth whatever anger Ryder will direct at me later.
His rules—or suggestions as I fondly call them—have become stricter in the last week.
He hasn’t told me why, but from the bits and pieces I’ve managed to overhear from Kade and Donovan, I’ve deduced that the M.A.C.
project—whatever it is—starts this week.
Since Ryder voted against it initially, I can only assume his protective nature is the reason he’s become overbearing when it comes to my security this week.
He won’t take this little trick lightly, but I can’t be expected to sit inside all day and wait for him to come home every night to finally give me attention.
Though, I do love our nights together.
Ryder and I spent a lot of time together in my apartment before we knew about the pregnancy, but back then, we didn’t really know anything about each other. It’s different now, sharing a home and a bed with someone who I know so intimately, and not just in a physical sense.
Ryder has gone from a man I barely know to my best friend.
The big, bad mafia underboss is now the man I wake up to every morning.
The man who likes his eggs scrambled and his burgers rare.
The man who doesn’t go to work until he’s pressed a kiss to my forehead and brought me a mug of herbal tea.
The man who takes me out to fancy dinners some nights and cuddles me in sweatpants others.
The man who I am madly in love with.
I can’t even pinpoint the moment it happened. What was once only infatuation grew slowly until it weaved itself into the very core of my being. I had the realization only yesterday when he knelt beside the bed to plant kisses on every inch of my swollen stomach.
The chest-clenching, toe-curling sensation of his lips pressing to my skin was something far stronger than physical attraction, and when I tried to figure out what exactly that was, only one word came to mind.
Love.
I expected the thought to scare me, but, on the contrary, putting a name to the growing feeling felt so right.
Naming the emotion is one thing, but confessing it is another entirely.
I was up all night going back and forth on whether to tell him or leave things as they were.
The last thing I want to do is complicate things between us, but when I think about how his eyes follow my every move like he can’t bear to look away, I just know he feels the same way.
More than just telling him how I feel, I also plan to tell him I want to stay here permanently.
I’ve come to love Los Angeles, and it isn’t just because of Ryder.
Every Tuesday and Thursday, Alec and I watch new episodes of true crime shows (since Don and Kade declared them ‘a show for psychopaths’).
Donovan is teaching me to play poker, and Kade brings his gaming console over so I can play racing games—though he beats me every time.
Even my parents have come to visit two more times since Ryder surprised me several weeks ago.
Tripp and Nicholas are the only capos who completely ignore me, but I don’t mind. The only one I haven’t gotten to know well is Mr. Moreno himself, but Ryder tells me not to worry about it.
“It’s nothing personal,” he had told me one day when I mentioned it a few weeks ago. “Moreno doesn’t involve himself with people outside the family.”
“And what exactly am I?” I had asked.
Ryder only thought for a moment before pulling me to him and answering, “Mine.”
I dropped the subject after that, letting him sweep me off to our room.
I round a corner in the garden, and the stone gazebo comes into view along with the small fountain. I sit on a nearby bench to soak up the sun. Even if Ryder finds me here, the peace this place brings is well worth facing his wrath.
“I thought I was alone out here,” comes a voice to my left.
I nearly jump out of my own skin at the sudden sound. It’s a good thing I peed before I came here because otherwise, my compressed bladder would’ve failed me.
I look over my shoulder to where a man is striding down the path from the opposite direction that I had come. Though I haven’t made an effort—or been allowed by Ryder—to get to know anyone aside from Alec and the capos, I feel I recognize most men around the base.
But I have never seen this man before.
His dark hair is long and styled to be swept back, but a particularly rebellious lock hangs over his eyes in an oddly charming way.
He wears a suit, unlike the men here, who usually wear jeans and tees.
The suit clings to his tall frame, and while it’s flattering, it’s also somehow off-putting.
It fits him like a glove, yet it still seems like he’s playing dress-up.
Then, there are his eyes. They’re the most mesmerizing honey brown I’ve ever seen and have this alluring effect that I don’t at all understand.
“Do I know you?” I ask though I’m almost sure I don’t.
One side of his mouth turns up. “No, I’m not from around here.”
There’s nothing threatening about the words or even how he says them, but for some reason, the instinct to cover my stomach with my hands is irresistible.
The man notices the gesture and holds up a placating hand. “I work for Moreno, I assure you. I just don’t frequent this base. As a matter of fact, it’s my first time here.”
I scan him, but his smile is easy, and his eyes are warm, giving the impression I’m safe. So, why is there an underlying current wading in the back of my mind that questions that very fact?
“Well, welcome.” I gesture to the garden around us. “You seem to have found the best part about this place.”
He points to the other side of the bench. “May I?”
I nod, and he takes a seat, allowing a few feet of space between us that I appreciate.
“You must be Rachel,” he says as he leans forward on his elbows.
When I turn questioning eyes his way, he holds out his hands again. “Kind of hard not to hear about you. You’re the only woman who’s ever lived on the base.”
That’s fair enough.
“How many weeks along are you?”
“Thirty-eight,” I answer. “My doctor says the baby could be here any day now, but I doubt that.”
“Why?”
“My mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother all gave birth on their exact due dates. I imagine I’ll be the same.”
He smiles, but I swear there’s an edge of sadness there. “Boy or girl? Or did you not want to know?”
“Girl.”
“Have any names picked out?”
“Not quite,” I admit, with a shake of my head. It’s the one thing Ryder and I haven’t been able to agree on since becoming a functional couple. We both like the idea of naming her in honor of our mothers, but we haven’t settled on anything.
The man wears a ghost of a smile. “That’s such an exciting part.”
“Do you have kids?”
He looks to be around my age, younger maybe, but I know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
When his smile falls, I wish I hadn’t asked. He looks at me with a somber expression. “My girlfriend was pregnant but passed away a few months into the pregnancy.”
My chest aches at the very thought, and though I don’t know this man, my heart hurts for the pain that must’ve caused him. “I am so sorry for your loss. No one deserves to go through something like that.”
When his eyes scan me, I get the strangest sensation crawling up my spine, like I’ve said something wrong.
“Uh, what was she like?” I ask to break the strange tension.
The question works like a charm. He’s no longer giving me that weird look, and instead, his eyes fill with an awe that I can almost feel.
“Perfect,” he says, with a smile and a distant look in his eyes. “Her name was Mary Anderson. She was the strongest, smartest, and most incredible person I’d ever met.”
My chest squeezes, and I find myself wondering how Ryder would describe me if someone asked. Would he have this same level of admiration? Would he speak of me so highly? Would love shine in his gaze at the simple mention of my name?
I want to ask him more about the woman since it seems to raise his spirits, but a familiar voice breaks our conversation.
“Rachel!” the voice calls, coming around the corner. Alec huffs, bending at the waist and propping himself up on his knees with his hands. “Are you trying to get me killed? Because that’s what’ll happen when Ryder hears—”
It’s at that moment that Alec notices the man sitting at my side. He straightens like a board, eyes flying wider than I’ve ever seen them before, and his face drains of all color.
He curses under his breath. “Come on, Rachel, we’re leaving now.”
“Nice seeing you too, kiddo,” the man beside me remarks in a dry tone, all signs of his grief tucked away.
What would cause Alec to have such a reaction?
It’s then that I realize I have no idea who the man beside me even is.
I stand, using Alec’s extended hand to support me as I do, and look into the man’s honey eyes.
“What’s your name, anyway?”
His smile is wide despite the grim topic we’d been discussing.
“Mason Consoli. It was nice meeting you, Rachel. I hope to see you again soon.”