Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
RIDGE
I ’m falling for this girl. Hard and fast. Eyes wide open. I just don’t know if I could say the same for her. I haven’t asked and she hasn’t offered it up. Maybe I’m a little afraid to ask what this is. Is it a summer fling? Something temporary and exhilarating that’s only meant to last a moment? Are we a firework? Or is it only a beginning? A small green stem with a single leaf and a flower bud on the verge of blooming?
It’s hard to tell which. But let’s examine the facts. She loves Lou and Lou loves her. She gets along with the boys, and they don’t have a bad thing to say about her. Even Lyric seems to like the lot of us. The fact is, Darcy spends more time with us than probably anyone else outside of her roommate. She doesn’t have to come over early for breakfast or stay late to have dinner with us. She could run out the door as soon as I get there but she doesn’t. That means something, right?
Darcy stayed awake in my arms for a long while before surrendering to sleep. I felt her body finally give out as she grew limp in my arms. Then I stayed up wondering what had been keeping her up. She’s usually quick to fall asleep after we have sex.
Though I’d barely call what we did sex. Sure, the voyeuristic start was a little intense, but everything shifted after that. There was a softness to our touches, our kissing. It was slow and riddled with deep emotion. At least for me.
Now, it’s morning and she’s still sleeping, and I have to take a piss but I can’t bring myself to wake her. I slowly slide my arm from beneath her and kiss her temple. I manage to extract myself from the bed and slide my boxers on. It’s early and I’m hoping no one else is awake.
Her door creaks a little too loudly for my liking as I slide it open and dip out into the hallway. I tiptoe down the short corridor to the living room, clocking Banks and Killian on the two couches. Waylon is nowhere to be seen, and for a moment I wonder if he went home for some reason.
Then, as if timed by the good Lord himself, Waylon slowly appears from the door on the other side of the living room. The door which I know to be Lyric’s room.
He makes desperate eyes at me, pressing a finger over his mouth like he’s begging me not to say a word to anyone about where he spent the night.
I roll my eyes, shuffling into the bathroom as he slips his shirt over his head. He’s such a fucking hound dog sometimes. I don’t know why he’s telling me to shut up about it. Lyric is definitely going to tell Darcy. They’re best friends.
Now I’m in a tough position, because he’s my boy, like a brother to me. But if he hurts Lyric and pisses off Darcy, I’m going to have to knock him around a bit. Maybe even punch him in the testicles for not thinking about how his dumbassery would affect the group dynamic. He’s old enough to know better, dammit. So if he earns himself an ass whoopin’, so be it.
I take a piss, wash my hands, and slip back into Darcy’s room all without making much noise at all. But much to my surprise, she’s awake and sitting in the middle of her bed. She’s wrapped her pale yellow bed sheet around her, and she’s got worry written all over her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says. “It’s dumb.”
“It’s not dumb is it’s making you look like you do,” I say reassuringly.
“How do I look?” she asks.
“Sad.”
Darcy breathes a long, audible sigh, hugging her knees to her chest. Whatever has her upset is big.
“I thought you left,” she says, hanging her head low. “I thought you snuck out before I woke up or something.”
“Honey, I would never do that.” I sit next to her on the bed, pulling her to my chest. “Surely you know by now that I’m not that kind of person.”
“I think in my heart, I know that,” she says, nuzzling her face into my neck. “But my brain is all wonky sometimes. Tyler… he used to do it all the time.”
I hug her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “I really fucking hate that guy.”
“He texted me last night after we all left.” She sighs. “All it says is ‘We need to talk,’ like I’m supposed to just follow orders or something.”
I swallow my jealousy and the hint of rage I feel for Tyler as best I can. And as much as I don’t want her around him, maybe it’s time she told him how she feels.
“I don’t think you should see him in person.” I speak plainly with her, feeling I can trust her to not think the worst of me. “That’s not me being weirdly jealous or anything. That’s me worried about your personal safety and his unpredictability.”
She tilts her head side to side, considering my words.
“I’ll text him,” she says. “But as sad as it is to admit, you’re probably right about how he can snap in a moment.”
“And I think you need to tell him how you feel,” I say, elbowing her gently. “I think it will make you feel better if you purge those feelings. Maybe it will help you move past some of what he did to you.”
“Yeah…” The word trails off into nothing, her body slumped and tight.
I hate it. I push strands of her wild hair away from her eyes, brush my fingertips over her cheeks, and close my eyes.
“But listen to me, Darcy. If you’re never over what he did to you, if you are always going to need a little extra reassurance from me, I can do that. I can be that for you.”
She’s silent for a long minute, her heart pounding hard in her chest—so hard I can feel it in my own.
“Thank you, Ridge,” she says softly. “Thank you for being exactly who you are.”
Warmth spreads throughout my chest at her words, and I swallow hard. I fight back against the catch in my throat when I speak again.
“Always.”
On Sunday, I ask Darcy to be at my house with me when Lou gets back. I want to gauge Lou’s reaction, and if I’m being honest, her grandparents’ reactions too. Alma and George are technically nothing to me, but I love and respect them as if they were my in-laws, regardless. I know they love and care for Lou, and I care about their opinions.
Darcy was hesitant at first, wondering if maybe I should speak to Lou one-on-one first. But I still want to see if she responds well. Depending on how that goes, I’ll talk to her. I think it’s okay for Lou to know about us now. I’m invested in Darcy, in our time together, and in what’s happening between us. I have to have faith in that.
“They’re here!” Darcy calls from my living room window.
I round the kitchen island and stride toward the front door, a little eager and a lot nervous. It’s not how I normally feel when Lou’s coming home, but there’s added pressure this time. There’s a lot riding on this.
In typical Lou fashion, she bounds through the front door, arms wide open. She jumps into my arms and I lift her up, hugging her tight and swinging side to side.
“Hey, pumpkin,” I say. “Did you have fun?”
“Yep!” she says, squeezing my neck. “Grandpa let me ride the mower with him.”
“Wow, okay speed racer.” I kiss her cheek and put her back down.
She turns, noticing Darcy for the first time. It causes her to pause for a second. But only a second. Lou runs over to Darcy, arms open.
“Hi, Darcy! I didn’t know you would be here! Are you here to have dinner with us?” she asks, hugging Darcy around her waist.
“Yeah, I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Darcy says, returning her embrace.
Their interaction makes my heart swell. Alma and George seem to notice too, but I can’t tell what they’re feeling about it.
“Can we talk to you outside for a moment?” Alma asks.
I step onto the front porch and close the door behind us. Darcy offered to help Lou unpack while I speak to them.
“What’s up?”
“Are you and Darcy an item now?” Alma asks, her tone neutral.
I scratch the back of my neck, suddenly a little more shy than I expected to be. “She and I are getting to know each other.” Hoping she will fill in the blanks, I give her a rather guilty look.
“Is it serious?” she asks.
And I don’t know how to answer that. “I’m not sure yet.” It’s honest, at least. “We haven’t talked about it.”
Alma runs her hand over my shoulder in a loving, maternal way. She’s always been a champion of me, and I’m grateful for it.
“Sweetheart, all I want in this world is for you and Louise to be happy,” she says. “I certainly didn’t expect you to be alone forever.” She pauses, giving her words room to breathe. “And Vanessa wouldn’t want that either.”
Those last few words hit me right in the chest. With Vanessa gone, I’ve always tried to keep her in mind while raising Lou. I think about what she mentioned while pregnant, what she hoped for the future. There have been times I’ve been angry about doing this alone. Not at Vanessa, but just at the situation. But I have to believe that Alma is right and that her daughter would want me to be happy.
After Alma and George leave, the three of us make dinner together. Lou expertly shreds lettuce into a bowl while Darcy chops the rest of the vegetables for our salads, and I cook steaks in my cast-iron skillet.
During the meal, Lou fills us in on her trip to the farm and the latest episode of the animal documentary she watches. When she asks us what we did, we quickly change the subject to what Lyric does for a living, and I agree to let her tour her lab as long as there are no bodies actually out on display. She begrudgingly agrees and convinces me to let her after her tenth birthday.
We say our goodbyes to Darcy after we finish eating, since tomorrow is a workday and we all need to get ready.
“Lou, do you think you could come and sit on the couch with me?” I pat the cushion beside me, beckoning her from her place on the floor where she’s completed about half of a puzzle.
She flops down next to me, sliding back so her feet don’t touch the ground anymore.
“What’s up, Dad?” She folds her hands in her lap.
“You like Darcy, right? Has she been a good nanny to you?”
“Yes,” she says, nodding vigorously. “She’s the best. I like having her around.”
“Would you like to have her around more?”
Lou tilts her head at me, clearly not sure what I mean.
“Do you have to work more?” she asks.
“No, I would be here, too,” I say. “We would all be hanging out.”
“I would love that,” she says, bouncing up and down. “Just like tonight at dinner. It was so nice having another girl here. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love uncle Waylon and the rest of them, but they’re all boys.”
“What about Grandma?”
“Grandma is a girl but she’s an old girl,” she says. “I’m not trying to be mean. You know what I mean.”
“I think so.” I laugh. “So we can hang out with Darcy more?”
“Yeah, I wish she didn’t even have to leave tonight. She could stay the night. Your bed is big enough.”
“My bed?” I repeat, surprised.
“Don’t you want her to be your girlfriend?” she asks, looking up at me expectantly.
“Ummm…” It’s all I can say. “Well…” I try again. “Ummm…” I fail again.
“Dad, I know you like her,” she says. “The way boyfriends and girlfriends do.”
“You know that?”
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure she likes you, too,” she says confidently.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because when she looks at you, her eyes get extra sparkly,” she says, her tone suggesting that she thinks it’s very obvious.
“And extra sparkly means she likes me?” I ask for clarification.
“Of course. It might even mean she loves you.”
I really don’t have a rebuttal to that, nor do I want to think of one. My first instinct is to say that I think it’s too early for love, and then my gut sort of checks itself, and now, maybe she could? Maybe she doesn’t right now, but maybe she’s on her way. I certainly feel like I’m on my way.
“So you’d be okay if she spent time here with us and spent the night sometimes?” I just want to ask one more time to really drive home my point.
“That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time. Weren’t you listening to me?” She huffs.
I laugh, holding my hands up. “Okay, okay. I’ll invite her over to spend the night this week some time.”
“Good,” she says. “It’s settled.”