30. Ryan
30
RYAN
M y chest was a maelstrom of emotions, roiling, rolling, tossing around inside my gut. I sat mostly in silence as the family passed gifts back and forth. Carrie gave Walt and Helen a getaway he'd been wanting to take. I thought it was a sweet gesture, and it only confirmed to me again how amazing she was. Guilt wrapped around me like a weighted blanket when I thought about how unfair I'd been to her the past almost two weeks.
"Oh, it's so perfect," Helen cooed, holding up a beautiful pink cashmere sweater Carrie picked out for her. It was beautiful, and it complemented Helen's skin tone so well. Carrie wasn't just thoughtful, she was a romantic. Her gifts held deeper meaning than just practicalities.
"Your turn, Ryan," Walt barked in his normal serious tone. I was glad to see the heavy negative emotions he had experienced after the stroke were finally lifting. Maybe it was Christmas, or maybe he'd been touched by the near-death experience.
I stood from my relaxed position on the couch and walked over to the tree, which now had no gifts beneath it except the one I brought with me. I'd been planning this for a while and had it stored in the trunk of my car for the past few weeks already wrapped and ready to go. It wasn't an afterthought at all. It was something I meant to do ten years ago, but Walter's stroke only made me realize how much I'd procrastinated.
I picked the gift up and handed it to Walter. It was a bit heavy so I laid it across his knees and he smiled up at me. "This is for the family," I told him, nodding. Then I took my spot on the sofa at the opposite end from Carrie. The gap between us was a buffer, but it did little to chill the heat I felt brewing for her again. We had so much to talk about but not the privacy to have that conversation.
Walter carefully tore the paper off the gift box and slid the lid off. His eyebrows rose, then his eyes narrowed as he leaned in to look it over. I'd had one of our local woodworkers hand carve a family crest for him. It was solid maple, stained the same color as their dark mahogany mantel. It had two swords crossed on it, surrounded by different symbols I thought matched Walter's personality and leadership in his family and the town—a wolf, a lion, and a bear. He smiled at it and looked up at me with tears in his eyes.
"This is very special…" He nodded as he spoke and blinked back the tears. He was like that—so manly he'd never cry over something like this. But after seeing the fight in him to come back following that stroke, I knew it was time to do this.
"You're welcome, Walt." I shook his hand and felt the satisfaction in my chest of a job well done.
Walter passed the shield to Helen, then Carrie, and both of them remarked how thoughtful of a gift it was. We spoke briefly about the crest and the symbol it would be for several generations now, and that made Walter smile. I thought for a second that he'd bring up grandchildren, but he yawned and looked to Helen.
"I'm getting tired, hun. Can we get some rest?" Walter glanced at me, then Carrie, and smiled softly. "I’m sure you two can entertain yourselves for a while. Maybe catch a Christmas movie? Ryan, thank you for the gift. That was quite thoughtful. How about you ask the guys to come over for poker on Saturday?"
"I'd love that," I told him, and Helen was looking at her watch.
"Dear, it's only eight p.m. You're already tired?" she asked, sounding concerned.
"I'm so tired, I might need you to come to bed with me." I saw a hint of mischief in Walt’s expression, and whether he was hinting at he and Helen having some alone time or something deeper, I didn't know. But the nod and the knowing look he gave me before one more time looking at Carrie told me something was brewing in his mind. "Good night, Carrie."
"Night, Dad." Carrie squirmed under her father's gaze, but my heart felt relaxed now. I'd seen that look in Walt's eyes before and I couldn't quite place it, but it almost felt like he was drawing Helen away for a reason—to give Carrie and me privacy.
We remained silent as Helen wheeled Walt out of the room and waved goodnight to us. She didn't look happy to be retiring so early on Christmas Eve, but when Walt spoke, she listened. When they were out of the room, I angled my body on the couch to face Carrie and draped an arm along the backrest. I couldn’t reach her, but I wasn't trying to. I just wanted to be more comfortable.
"So…" I didn't know how to start the conversation.
"So," she repeated, looking down at her hands. She was wringing them, then picking at her fingernails, telltale signs that she was feeling anxious. She had no reason to be now. It was me who should've been anxious. I had been a total ass to her, not listening, not giving her space to explain, not even caring to hear her excuses.
"I'm sorry," I told her, and I inched forward on the sofa.
"No, I'm sorry. I should've just told you the minute I knew." Her cheeks were red now. She licked her lips, and when she looked up at me, she had tears in her eyes. "Ryan, I still have to go to Chicago."
"Shh… Let's not talk about that right now." I inched closer again. Now my fingers could brush the hair off her shoulder. She didn't shy away.
"But there's this huge job opportunity in New York. For Ogilvy. I can't pass it up." Her pleading expression said more to me than anything. She wanted her career but it was tearing her down the middle.
"Why are you so torn?" I asked her, again creeping forward so that now, my fingers could brush her cheek. She leaned into my touch and sighed.
"I've been telling myself for the past three weeks that you would never want this baby, and after what happened with Kate, I was fully convinced of that. My only hope is to leave this town, Ryan. These people will eat me alive." Her lip quivered as she spoke, and I curled my finger around in her dark tresses.
"Go on," I told her, urging her to pour out her heart.
"What I went through as a teenager… This is only going to be worse. An unwed pregnancy? How would I ever live that down?" She licked her lip again and I scooted closer still. Now our knees were touching. "And my career. I built a huge thing in Chicago. I'm the youngest executive in my division, maybe in the entire firm. I can't give that up."
"I'm sorry," I said again, talking about my reaction. She needed to know how deeply I loved her. She needed to feel it.
"You don't have to apologize, Ryan. Your reaction was normal. I know why you acted that way now." Her face leaned into my palm, and I brushed my thumb over her cheekbone.
"I love you, Carrie, and I’m ready to take on the entire world for you." This wasn't going to be a good topic, but I had to say it to her. She had to know what she was giving up by chasing a career over love. "Look at how close you've gotten with your parents again over everything…"
Her eyes waxed nostalgic, and tears filled them again. Her shoulder bobbed, and she looked away, so I closed the gap, taking her into my arms and holding her against my body.
"Your parents love you. I would do anything in the world for you. You don't want to raise a baby alone hundreds or thousands of miles away." I sighed hard. "Stay with me."
Carrie sniffled and laid her head on my shoulder and let me hold her, right here on her parents' couch where any second, Helen could walk out and see us. I didn't even care anymore. She was the only thing that mattered.
"What will people say, Ryan? A baby out of wedlock? Me dating a man almost my father's age?" I knew how frightful that could be. But there was something scarier than that—dying alone. I didn't want to do that. I wanted her.
"The only thing…" She shied away, and I gripped her head in both my palms gently and forced her to look at me. "The only thing that matters to me is your father's blessing." My gaze was locked on her eyes as she blinked out more tears. "I'll tell the whole town I love you. I'll tell them the baby is mine. I'll fight for you so hard, you'll never even feel the sting of gossip. You can work for me and for your father and build something amazing here. Just don't leave me."
Carrie sobbed and clung to me, and her whole body shuddered with the emotion. She was loud too, loud enough that I knew Walt and Helen had to hear her, but they didn't come out. I cradled her as her cries grew quieter, and then I picked her up and moved toward the stairs, carrying her up to her room where I laid her on her bed.
"Ryan, it's just too much…" She was still protesting, but I shut the door, and this time, I left the light on as I toed my shoes off and shed my jacket.
"It's never too much, Carrie. You don't give up love like this. You can work anywhere. You can make money doing anything you put your mind to, but when you have love like this and you give it up, you risk never finding it again. I'm too old to give it up…" I climbed into bed next to her, and she curled into me, then lifted her chin up so our eyes met.
"I'm scared," she whimpered, and I kissed her lips too.
"I am too, but we have each other."
When I kissed her harder, she didn't resist me. My hands pulled her against my body firmly and I devoured her lips. Each whimper and moan as I removed a piece of her clothing spurred me on. My hands traced the outline of her body, careful to map each curve to my memory.
"I love you too, Ryan," she cried softly when I allowed her to breathe, but it only made me dive back in for more kissing. She arched her body against mine when I bared her breasts and tore off my shirt. Then I worked her leggings down, and my slacks, until we were both naked and shivering. She wrestled the covers up over us, and our passionate groping and kissing continued, but I was rock hard.
Gently but firmly, I parted her thighs and slid two fingers inside her. She moaned a most wanton moan in my ear, and her hips rose to meet mine as I fingered her, preparing her for my dick. When she was wet enough, I slid a third inside.
"Ryan." Her whimper made tingles shoot across my skin. I wanted to hear her moan my name every day for the rest of my life. It was a desire so deep I couldn’t quench it.
"Shh," I said against her neck as I found her clit with my thumb. "Just let go."
Her eyes widened, but her head fell back against the pillow as I continued to pleasure her. She was so wet, so ready for me. I had to taste her and drink up all the arousal she provided. I wanted to make her feel so amazing tonight, better than I’d ever made her feel, so I slowly backed beneath the blanket, trailing kisses downward toward her core.
"Ryan…" Her hands were in my hair, her legs trembling as I teased her labia with my tongue. She tasted divine, sweet like the nectar she was. I devoured her until she was gripping the sheets and begging me for more. "Ryan, please."
My fingers matched the rhythm of my tongue’s dance across her swollen nub, and she grunted my name as she came, her thighs clamping down on me. "Oh, God.”
I continued thrusting my fingers and flicking her clit with my tongue as she writhed and her pussy convulsed around my digits. Then she pulled my hair hard, though she hadn’t fully finished her orgasm yet. I waited a few more seconds, teasing the soft, hooded nub, and she whimpered.
“I need you in me.” I was putty in her hands when she begged like that.
I crawled back up over her body leaving a trail of her moisture and hot kisses in my wake. She guided my hard cock to her entrance and looked me in the eye as I pushed inside her wetness. The warmth gripped my girth like a hot blanket, and I couldn’t help but groan as I pushed deeper until I was all the way inside her. We fit together so perfectly, and when she wrapped her legs around my hips, it made it easier to hit her back wall.
"God, Carrie," I whispered in her ear as I began to move inside her. "You feel so good."
"Ryan!" she whimpered again, and I covered her mouth with mine.
"Shh," I said, kissing her passionately, moving in and out of her tight channel. She felt so damn good, and when she clamped down on my dick, I knew she was close again.
"Ryan," she moaned against my lips as I pumped faster and harder into her, desperate for both our release.
"I've got you," I reassured her, but my own control was slipping fast. My hands found her breasts and kneaded them. I felt my balls drawing up, and she clawed my ass, encouraging me to go deeper as her pussy again spasmed and twitched around me, milking me. I leaned down to claim her lips as I began to move inside her, slow at first, then faster once her hands slid up my back. Her loud pleasure moans were too loud, but both of us were lost in the moment now.
"I love you, Carrie," I breathed, and oh, God, it felt so good to say it and mean it.
"I love you too, Ryan."
That was all the encouragement I needed. I plunged myself inside her as deep as I could, and she clamped down on me as I came. We both moaned, our orgasms mingling together in one long, drawn-out groan that felt like forever. My thrusts slowed, our kisses continued, and her body relaxed beneath mine.
"Whoa," she breathed, and I agreed with her sentiment. I pulled out and rolled to the side and kissed her temple. She lay there panting heavily and said nothing, and the moment was too sweet for me to ruin.
I held her for a few long minutes, unaware that she'd fallen asleep until light snoring echoed around the room. I smiled at the sweetness of it as I rose up on one elbow and watched her sleeping face for a few seconds. She was so beautiful and peaceful, I didn't want to disturb her. So, knowing the risk, I reached up and switched the light off and curled back around her.
Morning would come with its own set of problems. I'd leave those to the future. Carrie and I were together, and while we hadn't solidified any plans, I had a good feeling about it. I knew I could convince her to stay here, and if not, I'd follow her to the ends of the earth.