Chapter 26 #2
Mae appears in the doorway, followed by Ryder himself. My heart does that stupid flutter it always does when I see him. His hair is mussed, his shirt untucked. When he sees me with Rhys, his face twists into a complicated emotion.
Mae waves, her expression warm despite the exhaustion lining her eyes.
I don’t have a free hand to wave back, but I smile over Rhys’s shoulders as he pulls back to look at me, oblivious to the tension still humming among the adults. “Did you see the tornado? We were in the basement, and it sounded like a huge vacuum cleaner!”
I smile. “That must’ve been scary.”
“It was awesome!”
“Rhys,” Ryder says, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s past your bedtime. Say goodnight.”
“But I’m not tired!”
“I’ll make you a deal, buddy. If you come now, we’ll read two stories.”
Rhys pouts but obeys, wiggling for me to let him down. He waves back at me as he runs toward the house. Mae ushers him in, and Rebecca and Remy disappear inside as well.
Ryder comes to my side, then stops a pace away as if remembering we’re not supposed to lapse into PDAs when his son is around. “I’ll put him to bed and be down,” he tells me.
I nod. “See you later, cowboy.”
He flashes me a dark stare that makes my toes curl despite everything and follows Rhys inside the house.
Mae is still on the porch. “Faye! Oh, sweetie, come in. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I assure her, though I’m not sure that’s true. “Thank you for letting me stay.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome, dear.” She fusses over me. “Have you eaten? I can make you something.”
“Actually, no, but I’m not hungry.”
At the restaurant, I’d barely touched my appetizer when the alert came in. It’s only been two hours, but it feels like dinner happened in another lifetime.
“Nonsense. I’ll put together a light sandwich.”
I don’t have the energy to argue.
Rebecca emerges from a bathroom. “We should get home,” she tells her brother.
Remy and Rebecca make a round of goodnights.
They hug Mae, and she insists they text when they get home.
Rebecca pulls me into a quick hug before the two of them head out.
Mae excuses herself to the kitchen, but not before telling me to make myself at home.
And then I’m alone in the Evanses’ living room, arms wrapped around myself, unsure what to do next.
Boots scruff on the floor behind me. I haven’t fully turned before Ryder wraps his arms around me.
“Hey.” I soothe him, massaging his back. “Is Rhys—”
“Fell asleep halfway through the first story.” He kisses my forehead. “He was pretty wound up after everything.”
We hug until Mae joins us in the room, carrying a thick sandwich on a plate and a glass of water. “Here you go, sweetheart. Turkey and Swiss with all the fixings.”
“Thank you.” I take the food and drink, even though my appetite has not returned.
“Let me show you to your room,” Mae says, already heading for the stairs.
I follow her up, Ryder trailing behind with my overnight bag. The guest bedroom is at the end of the hall, decorated in soft blues and creams, with a handmade quilt spread over the bed.
“The bathroom is across the hall,” Mae says, smoothing a hand over the quilt even though it is already perfect. “Fresh towels are in the cabinet. If you need anything at all—”
“I’ll be fine,” I insist. “Thank you again. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
I drop the plate and glass on the nightstand.
“It’s no trouble at all.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Family takes care of family.”
The word lodges in my chest. Family. I haven’t known the Evanses for very long, and yet they’ve welcomed me into their home without hesitation.
Mae gives me a quick hug, then heads back downstairs, leaving Ryder and me alone.
He sets my bag down by the bed, then turns to face me. We stand still for a moment, looking at each other. So much has happened in just a few hours.
His mouth quirks, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Not what I had planned for tonight.”
“No kidding.” I go to him and push the tip of my fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “What did you have in mind, cowboy?”
“Definitely more kissing.” His hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “A lot more.”
My pulse kicks up. “Rain check?”
“You mean tornado check?” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll see how long it will be before you can go back home.”
Right, of course. The practical, ugly aftermath of a disaster.
But now, with his lips against my skin and his warmth surrounding me, tomorrow feels far away.
“Ryder,” I whisper.
“Hmm?”
Without overthinking, I stretch up and kiss him. It’s meant to be quick, a simple goodnight, but the moment our lips meet, my noble intentions evaporate. His restraint snaps as fast. Ryder’s arms come around me, pulling me flush against him, and I melt into him.
This is widely inappropriate. His mother could walk in at any moment. His son, too. The thought of Rhys makes me pull back. “I’m sorry.”
“I should go.” He doesn’t move.
“You should.”
Neither of us moves.
Then a floorboard creaks downstairs, and we spring apart like guilty teenagers. Ryder runs a hand over his face, letting out a shaky laugh.
“Goodnight, trouble.”
“Night, cowboy.”
He backs toward the door, eyes still on me, like leaving is killing him. But he turns and disappears into the hallway. His footsteps echo on the stairs, then the indistinct murmur of voices as he says something to Mae. They sound worried.
I close the door and lean against it, my heart still racing.
I eat a few bites of the sandwich before changing into the pajamas I packed. The sheets smell like lavender and fresh air, and the mattress is comfortable, but sleep feels impossible.
Every time I close my eyes, I see the cottage. The torn roof. The shattered windows. And the worry on Rebecca’s and Remy’s faces.
If the issue is only money, I can help them. But would they accept it? Perceive it as charity? Feel like I’m overstepping?
It would also mean telling Ryder where my money comes from. I’d hoped we could have had that conversation once we were more solid in our relationship.
My heart thumps at an agitated tempo in my chest.
The truth is, I should’ve told him everything the other night when we talked on the dock.
But I chickened out. And now I’m scared he’ll mistake my silence for not trusting him, the same way Abigail didn’t.
Even if it’s different. My secrets aren’t about us, about our relationship.
They won’t affect us. He has to see that.
I pull the blanket higher over my face. Tomorrow. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.
Tonight, I let myself be grateful to be safe, to have shelter, to still taste Ryder’s kiss on my lips, and to have found people who call me family after so long on my own.