Chapter 15 #2
I mean, honestly, he’d already seen me covered in blood, presumably having killed a man. Nothing was worse than that, right?
So, why in the hell was I this scared to reveal the other secrets that felt so much smaller in comparison?
Because, a treacherous voice whispered in my head, that one incident might not be what it seems. A misunderstanding. Self-defense, hopefully. An anomaly.
But those other times? Those were choices. Those were a pattern. A history of bad decisions that proved I was exactly the kind of person who didn’t deserve someone like him.
“So …” I slipped my jacket off and leaned against the counter, trying not to think about how Ryker’s presence made everything feel both safer and more dangerous at the same time. “Tell me what I missed. How’s the job hunt going?”
“Good!” Todd’s whole face lit up. “I filled out six more applications, and I feel really good about this fast-food place. The manager was super nice when I handed him my application. He asked follow-up questions and everything.”
“That’s a really good sign!” I grinned at him. “Great job, Todd. What about you, Jess?”
“I filled out four applications.” Her voice was quieter, more hesitant.
I saw Ryker’s attention briefly flick to her arms, saw the moment of recognition.
Jessica was a cutter. The scars were fading, but still visible, and among other things, they made job hunting brutal for her.
She felt self-conscious and worried potential employers saw the evidence of her trauma like a scarlet letter.
But Ryker? His expression didn’t change. No judgment, no pity. Just quiet understanding. And damn if that didn’t make me want to kiss him right here in front of everyone.
“You guys are both doing such an incredible job. I’m so proud of you,” I cooed.
Ryker watched me with an expression that made my knees weak.
“I don’t want to leave here.” Jessica’s face crumpled slightly.
And there it was. One of the biggest fears any foster kid faced.
That was what she’d been worried about with my absence.
It played on her fear that I was leaving them, just like everyone else had.
It took everything to hide the terror in my heart that her fear might come true if I wound up behind bars.
“You don’t have to.” The words came out fierce and protective. Because if nothing else, I could give them this. “You don’t have to leave unless or until you’re ready. This is your home. You hear me?”
Instantly, Jessica’s rigid posture melted.
Ryker’s gaze intensified, and I felt it like a caress. The way he looked at me in moments like this—like I was something precious instead of something damaged—made me want to pull him into my bedroom and let him hold me until I fell asleep.
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to sleep on my own anymore.
“All right, guys, I’m going to run to the store. Make me a list of everything you want for dinner tonight and for the next few days,” I said.
“Faith.” Ryker’s voice was low. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
The kids scattered, leaving us alone in the small kitchen. Ryker moved closer.
“We don’t have time for grocery shopping,” he said quietly. “We don’t have time for home-cooked dinners. The DA wants to bury you, remember?”
His proximity was doing things to my ability to think clearly. “They need to eat.”
“And you need to stay out of prison.” His hand found the small of my back, a touch so gentle, it was barely there, but it sent electricity shooting up my spine.
The contact was possessive and protective, all at once, making me want to melt into it.
“Every minute we waste is a minute the prosecution uses to build their case against you.”
I knew he meant well, but, “These kids don’t have anyone else, Ryker.”
“Neither will they if you’re behind bars. You can’t save them if you don’t save yourself first.”
The space between us felt charged, dangerous, because so much had changed.
The times we’d kissed before, had done more than kissing—it was all on neutral ground.
In an elevator. Axel’s living room. In a bridal suite.
But this … this was my sanctuary. The most intimate location of my life, and having him here felt like the most vulnerable I’d ever been with him.
I could tell how much it mattered to Ryker, that I’d let him in like this. Just like in the elevator, this kind of emotional intimacy made it nearly impossible to pull back on the romantic kind.
The kind that made it impossible to hold on to the rational reasons we needed to keep our romantic distance.
When he stepped even closer, I didn’t move away. Couldn’t. This was me—raw, unfiltered, everything I’d built from nothing—and he was looking at it all like it was exactly where he belonged.
I could feel the heat radiating from him, heat that intensified as his gaze dropped to my lips.
Hell, every inch of my body stood at attention.
While we had surrendered to that one moment of passion when he’d arrived at the station—when he’d ghosted my lips with his—in this moment, it felt like every other kiss we’d had was before.
Before the night in the woods.
Before the arrest.
This was after, and there was something sacred about him still looking at me this way, especially in the wake of what he’d seen.
“Ryker,” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for.
He answered by cupping my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone. “Warrior.”
The way he said my nickname made something inside me crack wide open.
He’d seen pieces of me no one else had. Covered in blood, begging for help.
He’d caught me when my knees buckled, protected me from a problematic detective.
He’d secured me in his gaze when cold metal cuffs locked around my wrists, and he’d fought dragons for me in that courtroom.
His eyes dropped to my lips, and then he tilted his head and slowly drew his mouth to mine.
Soft at first, tentative, like he thought I might shatter.
But when I kissed him back, desperate and hungry, he deepened it, pressing me back against the counter.
His hand fisted in my hair, and I could taste coffee and forever, fire blazing over my skin and demanding more.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just this. The way he held me like I was precious. The way he kissed me like I was worth saving.
Like I was worth keeping.
Suddenly, Ryker stepped back, leaving me cold, but his eyes never left mine.
He dragged a hand down his face, like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me again. I could see the war playing out behind his eyes, with duty and desire locked in combat, neither willing to surrender.
“Sorry.” He rubbed his forehead. “Staying away from you is going to be harder than I thought.”
Because this wasn’t just attraction. It was definitely more.
“Two hours,” he murmured. “Let’s spend two hours here, and then I need your help with my work.”
A dozen thoughts crashed through my mind at once. First, that word let’s. As in he planned to stay. With me. Shop beside me, cook beside me, exist in my little domestic world. Second, the way he’d kept his voice carefully low, protecting my secret from the teens.
And lastly, despite the chaos, despite everything that should have sent him running, he wanted to stay.
Which warmed my soul.
Because I needed him, I realized. Ryker. Not my lawyer, but the man I was falling for.
Yet our future conversation about my past loomed over us like a dark storm cloud on my sun-filled day … high speed winds and damaging hail threatening everything. And if I lost him, I wasn’t sure I could get through any of this.
Before I could think too much more about it, Ryker checked his phone. His expression shifted instantly, lips thinning into a hard line, jaw tightening in a way that made my palms sweat.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
His eyes met mine, dark and fierce. “Work stuff.”
I got the distinct impression that “work stuff” was code for something catastrophically bad regarding me. My case. My future. But when he stepped forward, effectively blocking my view of his phone screen, I could tell he wasn’t going to tell me what it was.
Yet.