Chapter 51 - Ryker
RYKER
Faith appeared in my doorway, hesitant. Her fingers twisted together as her gaze swept the room, taking in the half-dozen people gathered around my desk, the organized chaos of a workday in full swing.
She looked like she was ready to bolt, but at least I spun the whiteboard around so she couldn’t see the true clusterfuck we’d been facing.
“Give us a minute,” I said.
The room cleared quickly. Papers rustled. Chairs scraped. The door clicked shut.
“Hey.” I touched her elbow, drawing her further inside. “This is a good surprise.”
Her shoulders dropped half an inch. “I’m not interrupting?”
“Never.” I meant it.
She held up a gift bag covered in rainbow sparkles that made me smile despite myself.
Very Faith. When I leaned down to kiss her cheek, I let myself linger there for a second, breathing her in.
This greeting felt like coming home. This simple intimacy of her showing up at my office like she belonged here—because she did.
She pressed the bag into my hands. “I got you something. For your new office.”
I set it on my desk, studying her face instead of the gift. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” She fidgeted with the strap of her purse. “Dakota drove me. She’s waiting outside, so I won’t stay long.”
I caught her hand, threading my fingers through hers. “How’d you even manage to go shopping?”
“Dakota’s very helpful.” A small smile played at her lips. “Open it.”
Inside were five frames. Not empty ones, waiting to be filled, but actual photographs, already arranged behind the glass. My throat tightened before I even knew what they contained.
Faith reached in and pulled out the first one.
“The first time I came here, I noticed how bare your office was. You’re always so worried about everyone else; you never took the time to make your office homier.
Since you spend so much time here, I figured it would be nice for you to be surrounded by the people who matter. ”
She handed it to me.
The photo was old. Tessa’s college graduation. Mom’s arm around Dad’s waist, both of them beaming. Tessa in her cap and gown, rolling her eyes at something I’d probably said. And me, younger, before life got complicated. Before I learned how badly good intentions could go wrong.
I traced my thumb over my mother’s face.
“That’s where you come from,” Faith said quietly.
I couldn’t speak yet, so I just nodded.
She pulled out the second frame. This one I recognized immediately. The four of us at Lake Michigan last summer. Axel mid-laugh at something, his head thrown back. Jace trying to look annoyed but smiling anyway. Blake’s arm slung over my shoulders. Brothers in every way that mattered.
“The family you chose,” she said.
My eyes stung. I blinked hard.
The third frame she handed me was empty.
I stared at the blank space behind the glass, not understanding at first.
“That’s for Knox.” Her voice wavered. “For when he comes home. So all five of you can be together again.”
The frame went still in my hands. I had to set it down carefully on the desk before I dropped it. Faith believed Knox was coming home. Not if. When. She saw my mission to free him not as some impossible quest, but as an inevitability.
She believed in me.
I pressed my palms flat on the desk, trying to steady myself.
“Ryker?” Her hand touched my back.
“I’m okay.” My voice came out rough. “Keep going.”
She reached into the bag again, and when she pulled out the fourth frame, her lips twitched. “This one is of the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth.”
I took it from her.
Rainbow stared back at me from the photo, and I barked out a laugh that broke the tension in my chest. “Jesus Christ. She’s somehow even uglier in pictures.”
“I know.” Faith giggled, the sound bright and unexpected. “I think it’s the way her tongue hangs out. She’s not photogenic. But she’s pretty on the inside.”
“Pretty might be generous.” Still chuckling, I set Rainbow’s photo next to the others, this ridiculous dog who’d become as much a part of my life as anyone else in these frames.
Faith grew quiet. She pulled out the last frame, but didn’t hand it to me right away. Instead, she stared down at it, her teeth catching her bottom lip.
“This one,” she finally said, “is from one of the first times I met everyone.”
I remembered the night. Dinner at Axel’s. Faith had been nervous, out of place. She’d sat at the edge of the group, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to be there.
She handed me the frame.
It was a group shot. All of us, except Knox, crowded around Axel’s dining table. Blake had taken it on a timer. Everyone was looking at the camera, smiling.
Everyone except Faith.
In the photo, her face was turned toward me. Not the camera. Me. And the look in her eyes …
Christ.
It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t friendly. It was the look of someone completely captivated by another person. The kind of look that stripped away pretense, that said everything without saying anything at all.
“I was looking at you from day one too, Ryker.”
The words hit me square in the chest.
I stared at the photo, at her face captured in that moment before either of us understood what we’d become to each other. She’d been falling for me even then. While I’d been so busy trying not to notice her, trying to maintain professional distance, she’d already been gone.
Just like I had.
She was just afraid to acknowledge it.
I kissed her forehead, then her temple, then her mouth. Soft and slow and full of everything I couldn’t find words for. When I pulled back, I kept her close. “Thank you. For this. For seeing me. For loving me enough to show me I’m not doing any of this alone.”
She buried her face in my chest, her arms wrapping tight around my waist. Her fingers gripped the back of my shirt like she was anchoring herself. Or maybe anchoring me. I held her there in my office, surrounded by the evidence of the life I was building.
But none of it meant anything compared to the woman in my arms.
“I love you,” I said into her hair.
“I love you too.”
I glanced over her head at the frames on my desk. Five photographs that said more than any words could. That said, I choose to trust you, even when trust terrifies me.
I wish it could have lasted. But the next person who’d visit my office wouldn’t just turn the case on its side; it would expose Faith’s secrets …