Chapter 23 Ryker
RYKER
Spoil your wives because I didn’t raise losers.
—Sebastian Beneventi’s advice to his sons
“Idon’t want to leave,” Delaney moans against my lips as she wiggles her perfect fucking ass in my lap and grabs another strawberry.
We’ve barely had thirty-six hours of this, but we’ve milked every last minute we can before we’re forced to face reality.
The closest thing to clothes she’s worn is my dress shirt, and I swear to every fucking thing that’s holy in this world, I’d be happy if it was the only thing she wore for the rest of our lives.
I bite the berry out of her fingers, then press my juice-stained lips to hers and dig my fingers into her hips. “Me either, Bambi, but I’ve got one more thing to show you after we do leave.”
She drags the pad of her thumb along my lip, then sucks it into her mouth, tempting me like the little minx she’s become. “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”
“What?”
She tilts her head and smiles the prettiest smile. “Sorry. Did you need me to sign it?”
“Oh… you little brat.” I stand and toss her over my shoulder, then smack her ass. “You learn a few new words and you think you get to be cheeky?”
“Yes,” she giggles, and I fall more in love with my wife than I was before.
Not that I’ve told her that yet. But I’m almost positive when I do, she’s going to run if I don’t work her into it really fucking slow.
This beautiful woman has had her heart broken too many times to just accept love without it freaking her the fuck out.
Doesn’t change how I feel. Just when I tell her.
Stepping into the bathroom, I turn on the shower and walk us both under the sprays, clothes and all.
“Ryker,” she squeals as I set her down. Her beautiful eyes look up at me, water drops clinging to her lashes. I boost her up against the wall and decide there are better ways to spend our last hour at the B&B.
Mom used to say everything happens for a reason. She swore her meeting Dad was proof. You might not always know the reason, but it’s there, and eventually you’ll figure it out.
Fate has a way of working itself out like that.
I have no idea how many times I heard that through the years.
The only time she didn’t say it was when I lost my hearing.
She never downplayed that. Never acted like it was fate.
Dad and she did everything in their power to help me.
Specialists. Therapies. The best hearing aids.
And when we were all ready, everyone learned ASL.
Not just my family either. Everyone. My entire extended family.
My friends. Fuck, even my friends’ parents learned it.
It became common in my world because even if I wanted to pity myself for what I lost, I was still a lucky son-of-a-bitch.
I never gave much thought to any of it until now.
Until I pull my car along the old road leading to the mile-long driveway of the house I bought last year without telling a soul.
At least at the time, I hadn’t. I spent months in the offseason working on it myself.
Refinishing floors and breaking down walls until it got to the point where I couldn’t do the rest of it myself and I had to hire a team to do it.
It was after a day spent realizing I had no fucking clue what I was doing that I found the bar Delaney was working in. I thought I was going in for a drink and a sandwich. I had no idea it was going to change my life.
Looking back now, I’m pretty fucking sure everything in my life led me here. Led me to her. And if it means I get to keep this woman, it was all worth it. Everything. Even my accident and the hell we went through after. Because she’s worth it.
She’s worth everything.
“What are we doing on Blue Bell Bay?”
I pull down the long driveway and stop next to the house sitting on the bay and turn the car off. “How about you let me show you?”
Her eyes lift as she steps out of the SUV. “Show me, husband.”
Yeah . . . I’m not getting tired of that any time soon.
I lace her fingers with mine as we walk to the front of the beautiful cedar-shake farmhouse that’s been painstakingly restored to its glory from a hundred years ago.
“Do you remember me telling you I was working on a house when I found you at the bar?” Delaney’s eyes swing every which way as I unlock the front door and push it open.
“Well, this is it, and the team I hired to finish the restoration has it nearly done. They’re just waiting on the kitchen cabinets to come in, and they set the kitchen last. They said it should only be another week or two. ”
“Ryker . . .” She swings out of my hold and spins in a circle, taking it in.
Walking around the living area, opening the door of the bathroom, then making her way into the library before she walks over to the windows and stares out at the view.
Blue Bell Bay is massive. Nearly eight-hundred miles of river between Pennsylvania and New Jersey, where freshwater mixes with the Atlantic Ocean.
Deep enough for bigger boats than you can take near Kroydon Falls or Sweet Water Creek, and my girl gasps, getting stuck on the view.
And fuck, so do I because seeing her here, in my space.
In my house. Damn. I think I’m actually nervous she won’t like it.
Won’t want to live here. “It’s beautiful. ”
I walk up behind her and press my chest to her back, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I’m glad you like it, Lane, because it’s ours.”
“What?” She spins in my arms, her eyes narrowing and nose crinkling. “Ours?”
“This is my house, Delaney, which makes it your house too. And wait—come with me.” I lift her straight up and she bends her knees, giggling as I carry her through the house. Her laughter echoing in the empty rooms, off the ten-foot ceilings. “I want to show you the best part.”
“Better than that view?” she teases, and my heart settles.
“I think you might like it more. We’ll see.
” I walk her through the cabinet-less kitchen and through the back door, then stop in the backyard and drop her feet to the grass without letting go of my hold on her.
Nothing but lush green grass from the door down to the dock out into the bay.
“I had a whole plan for the backyard. It was supposed to be the last thing the contractors worked on . . .”
Delaney grabs the arms I have wrapped around her waist and leans her head back against my chest, turning her face up to mine. “What happened?”
“You,” I tell her truthfully. “You happened, and I thought—if you were going to live here, you’d want to design it yourself. The contractors can still do all the work, but you can decide what you want, where you want it, and how it should all come together.”
She steps out of my arms and takes a few steps forward before turning back to me, an unreadable look on her beautiful face. “But this is your house.”
“Our house,” I correct her. “You wanted to be a landscape architect. Well, here’s your chance to see if you like it. Who knows, maybe you’ll hate it or maybe you’ll love it. It’s not too late to get that degree, if it’s something you still want to do.”
She drags her lips between her teeth, her tell that she’s thinking.
A fucking sexy tell at that, but I don’t say anything. Not when she needs space.
But apparently, space isn’t what she needs because my crazy girl launches herself at me. Her legs wrapping around my waist and her arms around my shoulders as my hands go to her ass. “I love it. When can we move in and get started?”
“We don’t have a kitchen, crazy woman.”
“We don’t cook anyway. You bring home takeout.”
“Good point.” I drag her lip between mine and press my head to hers. “Want to christen the bedroom?”
“Yes.”
Fuck . . . I love my wife.