8. Ryan
8
RYAN
I spent the better part of the early morning hours getting tables set up for the toy drive. With the labels made and placed in front of large blue barrels intended for donors to drop their toys, arranged according to the age range for the toys, my job was almost complete. The drive started in fifteen minutes, and I'd made it most of the morning without thinking too much about Carrie, but as noon approached, I found myself anticipating the sight of her face.
I walked past each of the tables and barrels one last time, making a sweep around the room to ensure things were done correctly, and as I passed a few ladies also helping set up, I overheard them speaking in hushed tones.
"Can you believe it, though? She's half his age. He could be her father."
"Does it surprise you? You know what they say he did to his wife's car…"
The second comment came from Judy Baker, a known town troublemaker. She never had any good intentions. When that woman opened her mouth, it was always to make someone else look bad and herself, by comparison, better. The words irritated me, but I couldn’t walk away and not find out what else they'd say. I hovered by the table pretending to straighten the stack of paper, printouts of the instructions for the drive volunteers who'd be arriving any minute.
"I heard that Bennett girl came back to town for her father, but someone said she's shacking up with Ryan now. He's gone over to Helen and Walt's a few times."
My chest tightened, and I took a deep breath to calm myself. I wanted to turn around and tell them off, but as I raised my head and looked in their direction, I saw Carrie walking through the doors with her head high and a warm smile on her face. The instant I saw her, I had no interest in squaring off with nosy women who knew nothing. I walked past them and straight to Carrie, who looked happy to see me.
"Hey, this place looks great! You did a good job." She tugged her gloves off and put them into her pockets, and I noticed the pink glow on her cheeks from the cold air.
"You look great," I told her, letting the compliment slip out. She blushed and her cheeks grew even rosier, but she didn't look away. I felt awkward for a moment but quickly pushed that away. "I, uh… Thank you for coming. I made some coffee. Would you like a cup?" I nodded at the refreshments table at the back of the sanctuary where Christmas cookies, cocoa, and coffee were being served. I'd set up the carafe earlier, and by now, it was done percolating.
"That sounds great. I'm so tired lately."
Carrie followed me to the refreshments, and by the time we got there, a few other women were getting their own snacks and drinks. Carrie looked a little nervous, slipping her coat off. She draped it over her arm and accepted a cup of coffee from me. Her eyes flicked over to the women who were whispering and then back to the cup she was doctoring up with cream and sugar.
"Some nerve, I tell you," I heard one of the women whisper. The other one scowled and made her own rude comments.
"Martha Jones would be appalled." The woman whose daughter died would definitely have felt things, but I doubted she'd be showing up today.
I also doubted that Carrie was feeling very comfortable now, so I whispered, "Let's go over there," and I nodded across the room where there were a few chairs situated. She followed me, and we sat down. The close proximity of so many people in the confining space put my nerves on edge. I hated that Carrie had to sit and listen to people talking about her, and I didn't like how they spoke of me either.
"I'm sorry you have to put up with that. I know what they're saying and I hate that they can't just get over it." My comment seemed to help take the edge off, and Carrie relaxed a little.
"You should never apologize for someone else being a jerk. I knew what I was getting into coming home to be with Dad and Mom. And I knew how people would treat me. It just stings. I was eighteen. It was ten years ago." Carrie's eyes roamed the room as she spoke, and she still had a smile on her face, one I was sure she'd practiced a lot over the years.
Being the mayor's kid was a lot like being the pastor's kid. Everyone expected a certain level of maturity and appropriate behavior. Walt had probably put pressure on her to perform well in all things, as any father would, but with the added emphasis of being the "good girl". I knew he never meant to bring any harm to his family, but small towns like this ate people alive. Carrie never stood a chance at a normal life. She never got to just be a kid.
"Need to talk about it?" I asked her, hoping she'd open up.
She smiled sadly and shrugged. "I threw a party. Someone brought booze, though I didn't tell them to. It went really badly and there was an accident…" Her lip quivered, and her eyes welled up with tears. I could see the guilt she carried, and I knew I had to help her feel better before she broke down and gave the busybodies more to talk about.
"Let's go for a walk," I told her, and I stood up. I took her cup of coffee and set both of our cups on a table without caring whether they were in the way.
Carrie stood with me, already putting her coat on as we moved toward the front door and the coat rack where my coat was hanging. I slid my coat on, and we headed out the front of the church into the sunny but chilly air. She didn’t say anything as we descended the steps and turned toward the Christmas village being erected in the park adjacent to the church, but I heard her sniffling.
"You know, people still say I sabotaged Kate's car…" I sighed at my confession, and Carrie glanced up at me.
"That's horrible. Why would they say that?" Seeing the compassion in her eyes encouraged me. By focusing on my own trauma, she was able to let go of the heavy emotion she was feeling. I'd carry that pain for her any day.
"Well, it was no secret that Kate was upset with me. She wanted kids so badly, and I had no interest in it. She had a failed pregnancy, and it didn't affect me emotionally. I was actually relieved. I told her before we even got married that I didn't want kids. She just thought I'd change my mind. So when we divorced, it was so painful for her. The deputies said she was distracted while driving. Townsfolk said she was suicidal or that I did that to her car on purpose, cut the brake lines or something."
I still felt the sting of the gossip years later as if it were fresh. I knew how much it hurt when people spoke unkindly of you.
"I'm so sorry they said that." Carrie touched my arm softly, and we stopped walking and turned to face each other.
The Christmas village wasn’t quite finished, but at least for today there were no volunteers around to distract or interrupt us. We were far enough away from the church to have peace and quiet, and at this distance, I didn't even think people would know who we were. We stood between a decorated Christmas tree and a shed that had been decorated to resemble a bakery, with gingerbread decorations all over it.
"You know that feeling you feel right now toward me? Compassion for what I'm going through, anger for what other people have said or done?" I asked, stepping closer to her.
"Well, yeah…" Carrie didn't back away as I moved closer. I didn't even know why I moved closer. I just had this urge to be nearer, to put my arms around her.
"You should feel that for yourself too. That anger you feel inside when they speak about you like that is the part of you that loves yourself. You want to defend yourself because no one else does. That is a good thing. It means you're human and that you don’t sink to the level of your critics." I stepped closer still and reached down and took her hand. "People are awful, so when you meet someone as breathtaking and refreshing as you, it's such a good feeling.”
"Ryan, I…"
Carrie's soft whisper only encouraged me to move closer still. Her eyes searched my face, and she swiped her tongue over her bottom lip. I couldn't help myself. It was like I was being sucked into her gravity. My hand floated up to her face, cupping her cheek. I brushed my thumb over her cheekbone and let my fingers curl around the back of her neck, tangling in her long, brown hair.
"You, my dear, are as breathtaking as a summer sunset after the rain." I leaned in and hovered so close to her face that I could feel her breath dust my lips. When she didn't pull away or offer a sour expression in response, I let my lips brush hers.
The kiss was so gentle I didn't know how she'd react, but I felt her hands slip under my coat and rest on my sides. I was so thankful I was born a Midwesterner who never buttons up. Her touch sent a flood of hormones through my body that made me warm from the inside out, and I kissed her harder, eagerly devouring her lips and tongue. My hand pulled her hard against my mouth, and I felt her grabbing fistfuls of my sweater.
When I finally pulled away, it wasn't very far. I stayed so close to her that our noses rubbed and I said, "What's going on between us?"
And that's who it was right in this moment. Just her and me. The world around us just disappeared. I didn't care if Marge Evans or Judy Baker saw us and started new rumors. I was only interested in this beautiful, thoughtful, intelligent woman in front of me.
"I, uh… I don't know." Carrie's hands never left my sides. "But I like it," she breathed, and I took that as an invitation to kiss her again, harder this time.
I let my other hand hook around her back and pulled her against me, still cradling her head. She slid her hands farther around my body and wrapped her arms around me, and we kissed and groped for a few minutes. When a bird flew overhead and cast a shadow, it startled me for a second and I pulled away, but her kiss-swollen lips wouldn't let me forget how incredible I thought she was.
I stared at her for a few long seconds, and she smiled. Her cheeks were as red as her lips, and she took a step backward.
"I should probably go home. Dad wants help with a bath, and Mom can't really do much on her own." Carrie's excuse was valid and legitimate, but I wished she'd blow it off and stay here with me. There were so many thoughts zooming through my head. Not to mention the growing bulge in my slacks.
"Yeah, well… Thank you for coming. Tell Walt I'll stop by tomorrow." I ached to take her back into my arms, but she inched farther away from me.
"I hope we can do this again sometime." The way she bit her lower lip made my dick twitch. She was suggesting we do this again, and it made me want to take her back to my house and bend her over my kitchen counter.
"How about tonight? I have to bake pies for the community dinner." I took a step toward her, still aching to steal another kiss, and she grinned at me.
"Tonight, then… Seven p.m." With a wink, Carrie turned and walked away, and all I could do was watch that perfect ass of hers sway.
I didn't know what the hell I was doing hitting on a woman sixteen years younger than me, but she didn't seem to be averse to it. The reality hadn't even set in yet, but I knew it would. That and the fact that she was Walt's daughter. It was going to smack me hard, but for the moment, I just wanted to enjoy the rush of chemistry and attraction. It'd been forever since I felt this amazing.