12. Chapter Twelve
12
Wren
Ryker tosses another hay bale onto the wagon my dad brought along with us, then wipes sweat from his brow with a sigh, and I smirk on the other side of him. “Wishing you’d stayed home right about now?”
He pauses and glances at me, then shakes his head. “Not at all. It’s refreshing, honestly.” My dad and Elias are at the opposite end of the field, doing their own work, and he waves a hand at the grass spread out in front of us. “Your parents got a nice place.”
“As you’ve said multiple times already,” I say with a smile.
Ryker sighs. “I’m trying to get on their good side, but nothing seems to be working.”
He knows as well as I do that the only way to get on their good side is to showcase a different side of himself. As much as I hate to say it, the only version of him that my family has seen is the one that’s plastered all over the internet, and that’s not a very good look for him. Which brings me back to the problem at hand – why am I so worried about him getting on their good side?
He’s a client, nothing more.
I grab another hay bale and toss it into the wagon, then wipe my sweaty hands on the back of my jeans, which are already layered with dirt. “I’m sure it will happen eventually. I guess it’s a good thing you only have to worry about them for another couple of weeks.”
There’s a tense silence at my words, but I don’t bother taking them back. We need to be realistic about this.
I brought him with me today, hoping he would complain for the first five minutes and demand to leave. I hadn’t counted on him enjoying himself out here. I’m willing to bet he’s never done ranch work like this in his life. Is it so bad that I assumed he’d grumble and huff about it the entire time?
We’re getting the last of the hay bales tossed when Elias and my dad park their truck beside us and then hop out of it with bright smiles on their faces. Elias glares at Ryker for a moment before looking at me with a much softer gaze. “Mom got dinner ready, you ready to head back up to the house?”
I smack the side of our truck and nod. “Sure thing. Where are we taking these at this time?”
It changes every single time we do it, so I’ve learned to double-check where we’re throwing them out before I do anything else. My dad is very particular about everything.
My dad shakes his head. “Don’t worry about doing that part, sweetie. Elias will take that truck, and we’ll head down to throw them all out. You just head on to the house, and I’m sure Ryker needs to get back home.”
This is his way of trying to tell me he doesn’t want Ryker at dinner, but I guess it’s a good thing I’m an adult now and Ryker’s my guest.
I shake my head and smile. “Ryker would love nothing more than to try some of Mom’s homemade cooking, right?”
He blinks, darting my gaze between the two of them, and he looks as though he’s about to ask me to take him home until I angle my body closer to his.
Ryker clears his throat and nods with a small smile. “Homemade food sounds great.”
His deep chuckle makes my toes curl, but I manage to keep my emotions in check.
Elias glares at Ryker, his jaw clenching and unclenching in response to Ryker joining us for dinner, and I shrug. “That’s settled then. We’ll see you guys at the house?”
“Uh, do you want any extra help? I don’t mind riding with one of you,” Ryker says.
As much as I might think it’s sweet that he’s offering his services, my dad and brother, on the other hand, look at each other before shaking their heads. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re thinking that the only reason, he’s asking is so that he looks good, not because he’s actually a nice human being on the inside.
If only they’d take a minute to get to know the real Ryker, like I have, then they’d understand why there’s no reason for them to keep scowling at him.
“Let’s go help mom set the table,” I say and tug at Ryker’s elbow.
Before I can walk too far, Elias pulls me to a stop while Ryker continues ahead, and he frowns down at me. “This is a terrible idea, Wren. Why would you bring him here to meet the family, like he’s some sort of boyfriend.”
I’d love nothing more than to answer him, but he’s got a point. I brought Ryker here, whether it was my intention or not, and he’s met my family. We went to the carnival yesterday that Ryker called ahead and reserved for just the two of us so we would have privacy. It’s looking more and more like we have more than a working relationship, a fact which I can’t even bother lying to my brother about.
I know things are getting blurred, and lying to my brother isn’t something I’ve ever been able to do. My shoulders slump in defeat, but my dad clears his throat and arches a brow at Elias to get the hell moving – guess I can thank him for giving me the out I desperately needed.
Ryker is waiting for me in the middle of the field, his t-shirt soaked through from the blaring sun, and I jog over to him with a small smile. “Sorry, Elias had something to ask me.”
It’s silent for a minute, then Ryker clears his throat and scrubs a hand down his face as he turns to watch the trucks disappear in the distance. “It’s everything they’ve seen about me, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” I know what he means, obviously, but I’m hoping that he’ll turn the conversation in a different direction.
“My past and, I guess, present. That’s why they don’t like me?”
“Who said they don’t like you?”
Ryker comes to a stop in the middle of the field and sighs. “Wren, it’s clear as day. The moment they see me their expression turns sour, like I’m the moldy chicken sitting in the back of a fridge, and they’re desperate to throw me out.”
I sigh and shake my head. “They’ve just got to get to know you, that’s all.”
“That should be fun,” he mumbles, then continues our trek through the field. “At least your mother doesn’t seem as hard on me.”
“My mother is very laid back compared to my dad; she’s a lot more understanding of certain things, and that includes everything that’s going on with you.”
“I guess I can be thankful for that,” he mutters just as we step onto the back porch and pull open the screen door that leads into the kitchen.
There’s a question I want to ask, sitting at the tip of my tongue, but I’m nervous because I don’t know what his reaction will be.
I’ll never know if I don’t just ask.
I clear my throat and pull him to a stop before we walk inside. “I’ve actually got something to ask you.”
“Shoot.”
“I’d hate to keep walking out on you and coming over here, so I just wondered if you would be okay if I gave Elias your address so he could come hang out a time or two before our time is up.”
Ryker contemplates the question, seconds turning into minutes before he gives me a small smile and nods. “If it’s something that would make you feel better, then that’s fine with me. You deserve to have an outlet when needed.”
My eyebrows jump in surprise. I had expected a fight, some sort of attitude, but he’s immediately allowing it.
“Thank you,” I say. “I really appreciate it.”
I pull us inside, feeling a little lighter now that my question has been answered, and come to a stop right inside the door. My mother is swaying off-beat to the music blaring through the speaker, so Ryker and I stand silently while watching her movements.
Ryker chuckles, the sound low and traveling straight through me as he shakes his head. “She seems cool.”
“Definitely, you would’ve loved her if we knew each other years ago,” I say. “She was considered the cool parent, and all my friends wanted to hang out over here because my mother loved being involved with everything.”
As if sensing our presence, my mom spins around and beckons me over to join her.
I shake my head, amusement shining in her eyes, and Ryker nudges me gently. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”
I roll my eyes, then grab hold of his hand and take him with me. “If I’m joining, so are you, Rockstar.”
For a moment, everything fades in the background as we all shake to the beat of the music in the middle of the large kitchen. Mom has a wooden spoon clutched in her hand, positioned in front of her lips like she’s going to sing into it, and I take it with a bright smile.
When I glance at Ryker, he’s got this odd expression on his face that I’ve never seen before, but it disappears as soon as he catches my eyes on him.
The back door slams shut behind us, forcing our movements to come to a screeching halt. Mom quickly leans over the counter to silence the music. When I turn around, my dad and brother are standing in the doorway with frowns on their faces.
“That was quick,” I say.
My brother scoffs. “Yeah, well, I told Dad we could toss the bales out first thing tomorrow morning.”
He saunters into the room, levels Ryker with a glare like he has been all day, and then looks at me accusingly. “Having fun, sis?”
I’m about to answer, but my dad claps his hands and waves a hand at the empty table in front of us while looking at Ryker. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Ryker blinks in surprise but nods and makes his way over to it. I’m feeling uneasy about this, and it doesn’t help that Elias is smiling at the two of them.
I lean closer to my brother with a frown, not taking my eyes off the two men at the table, and ask, “What the hell are you up to?”
Elias shrugs and winks at me. “Just thought Ryker could get the third degree, you know?”
“So, Ryker,” my dad says, leaning forward. “You close with your family? Wren’s a big family person, you know.”
Ryker clears his throat and sighs. “Not at the moment, no, but Wren has recently convinced me that I should give them a call. Things have been rocky since I got into the band, and I want to try mending that relationship.”
It’s not often that Walter Grace nods in understanding, especially when he’s already got an opinion about you, and when he does this to Ryker, I glance up at Elias with a smile on my face. “Are you sure he’s the one who’s going to be hurt by this, Eli?”
“Do you have any other plans for your future, aside from the band?”
“I’ve always loved the idea of teaching music,” Ryker says honestly.
He leans forward and smiles. “I remember being young and learning the guitar, it felt good when I accomplished what I set out to do. Providing this experience to other kids would be amazing.”
“Dammit,” Elias mutters beside me, then he shakes his head and decides to help mom set the table like I’d planned to do with Ryker.
It’s not my fault they decided to ambush him with twenty questions, though.
My mom bumps her shoulder into me and glances at Ryker with a smile. “He seems nice.”
Just as I suspected, she’s not worried about the things she sees on the internet about Ryker. She’s more understanding of the fact that the media will spin anything into something worse than it actually is, and I’ve got a feeling that’s exactly how most of Ryker’s life has been portrayed.
“He is, and I’m really getting through with him. I thought he’d be closed off, hard to understand, but it’s been fairly easy.”
“Well, it usually is when you like someone, sweetie,” she says with a soft chuckle before turning away and handing my brother plates for everyone.
If she can tell I like him, who else will be able to?