Chapter 32
Riley
After a rough day yesterday, with emotions running high, Spencer, Ivy, and I ride along in the truck into the fields of Brady’s ranch.
“Do you know where you’re going?” I ask.
Spencer glances at me as we bump along a narrow dirt road by a fence, heading for the hills at the back of the property.
He grins. “Kind of?”
The picnic basket and blanket sit on the back seat by Ives, and she is hell-bent on grabbing the basket, her little fingers stretching for it every few minutes.
Good luck, baby girl. It’s out of reach for a reason.
The truck lurches on a pothole the size of a small planet, and I grab the door handle.
“Sorry, babe,” Spence rasps.
He’s been quiet today.
I guess yesterday was a lot.
This tug-of-war in my heart is more than I can cope with. My chances of survival when I step onto that departing flight . . . well, I don’t like them, but sometimes you just do what you have to do.
Right.
We turn after driving through an opening in the fence that hosts a sagging, rusty gate, and a lake bordered with trees comes into view at the foot of the highest hill.
“Wow,” I breathe.
Spencer grips the wheel with both hands, craning his neck over it. “Damn, it has been an age since I was here.”
“You come here often?” I wink at him.
“Used to. A lifetime ago. Brades was the only person who didn’t expect something from me. We had so much fun here. I wish you could have come here in the summer.”
“This is perfect, cowboy.” The words are so soft.
We park and push from the truck. I wander to the waterline, weaving my way through the old trees that stand around like old friends catching up.
The cool breeze finds me before rippling over the water.
Fire. We need a fire.
An old firepit made from rocks in a circle sits to my right. I make my way around the trees and gather up firewood. When I make it back to the firepit, Spence has Ivy set up on the blanket. The picnic basket sits in the center as her grabby hands pull out everything we brought.
He chuckles. “Slow down, kiddo.”
Dumping the wood into the center of the pit, I cross the soft swaying grass to the blanket and sink down beside Ives. “Hey baby, you hungry?”
“Think that’s the understatement of the century.” Spencer is walking for the truck. I hand Ives her snack box and she inhales the lot, leaving stains on her mouth and cheeks. He comes back with matches and a small cooler I didn’t realize he brought.
Ten minutes later, flames are crackling away. We’ve moved the blanket a little closer and caught Ives toddling toward the firepit three times.
We need a distraction . . .
I remember the satchel of her toys I tossed in on a whim before we left. “Hold her, will you?”
Spencer lays down on one side, tossing his hat to the blanket, and swings his arm around her, toppling her over. Giggles drift up as he blows raspberries on her belly with a ridiculous growl.
I jog for the truck and grab out the satchel. Inside, I have Mr. Fluffy, of course, a ball, ring toss, and the one thing I came over for—bubbles.
A large wand is submerged in the transparent pink tube. I shoulder the bag and unscrew the top.
“Ivy baby,” I singsong.
She rolls out of Spencer’s hold and pushes to her feet, her little hand in her mouth.
Raising the wand, I blow a stream of bubbles over her head. Wonder lights up her face as she reaches for them.
“Come on, bubba. Let’s play in the grass.”
I walk to the field and into the warm sunshine as Ivy follows. The grass is up to her belly, and she swats it as she walks. I chuckle, lifting the wand. “Catch them, sweet girl.”
Taking a long, soul-refreshing inhale, I blow out a long belt of bubbles as I turn on the spot. Ives toddles as fast as her little wobbly legs will go, grabbing for them.
She topples over and disappears into the grass, and I wait for her to right herself. Our girl will be independent if it kills me.
As it surely will.
She bobs up from the grass, her light hair lit by the sunshine, the high lilt of her giggles echoing through the trees. Moving fast, she closes in on me. I dip the wand and blow bubbles as I pick up my pace and skip through the field.
As her steps slow, I let her catch up. Swinging her up onto my hip, I give her the closed bubble tube to hold. She shakes it, telling it, “Dad, dad, dad.”
“Let’s see what Daddy is doing. You hungry still?”
We all know the answer to that one. Always.
Spencer is poking at the fire when we make it back. Ivy rubs her eyes, scrambling for Mr. Fluffy before huddling up in my lap.
The food is laid out in the center. Sandwiches. Crackers and Dip. Crudités with hummus. Some kind of chicken salad I’ve never seen him make before. It all looks so delicious. My stomach rumbles as Spence returns to the blanket and sits by me.
“Someone’s hungry,” he says with a chuckle.
“Some of us have been busy chasing bubbles, Daddy.”
He leans in, lips by my ear as he whispers, “You know what happens to my girl when she calls me that.”
I tamp back the urge to roll my eyes.
Nips dust down my neck as his warm hand slips under my coat and shirt, pressing against the small of my back.
My eyes drift closed . . .
Hungry who?
“Dad, dad, dad, dada, dada, dada.”
Spence huffs a laugh against my neck before straightening up. “Later, baby.”
“If you say so, Daddy.”
His face turns to stone, head tilting as his brow cocks up.
I pluck up a sandwich and sink my teeth into it in lieu of doing something stupid like burying them someplace else.
Bellies full, we lay out on the picnic blanket with Ivy between us. She’s sucking her thumb, which is a new development, and hugging Mr. Fluffy to her chest. Her eye lids are drooping, but she flings them open, trying to fight off sleep.
I run my hand over her hair.
“Close your eyes, Ives. You’re okay.”
I dot a kiss on her forehead and send my hand over her small back. She’s out like a light moments later. Spencer simply lies on his side, watching us both. He does that a lot lately. What I wouldn’t do to know what’s going through his mind.
I have an idea, but I hope I’m wrong. Because, as amazing as this has become, it will only be a memory for all three of us very soon.
I let my own eyes glide closed.
No sad thoughts, Riley.
No fecking way, we’re not ruining a perfect day.
I sit up, eyes refocusing on the stunning fields and lake around us as I pull Ivy’s blanket over her.
Spence stands and drops a hand down to me. “Walk with me, Riles.”
I look up at him. In his old work shirt, jeans, and boots, he looks rugged. Sexy as hell. How could I turn this man down? Ever.
I rise to my feet with his help, and we wander for the lake. The trees flanking the water are old, gnarly, and some are twisted at the base, making a seat-type surface. One has a thick branch that hangs low and horizontal. It would make a great tree to climb and explore.
Maybe Ives will get to come here for her summers . . .
Large, warm hands land on my shoulders and guide me toward the seat-type tree. Spence sits on it, bending down to grab a handful of rocks. He hands me some, and I toss them into the water.
“No, Riles.” His hand closes over mine. He takes one of the rocks and bends to the side, flinging it from his hand as his wrist flicks.
The rock skips over the water, like Mr. Fluffy hopping his way to his burrow.
I chuckle.
Half in amazement at this rock trick of Spencer’s, half at the deterioration of my apparent baby brain.
“You try. Send it more horizontal and flick your wrist.”
I try it. The rock splashes and jerks once into the air before splashing into the water and sinking out of sight. “Spence, I suck at this.”
“Try again, baby.”
“It won’t help.”
I strangle my ponytail, tugging it over my shoulder, my fingers tangling in the long dark strands.
Spencer’s in my space a second later, hands wrapping over my wrists. “Since when does Riley O’Malley give up?”
I look up into his bright blue gaze. His messy dark blond hair still takes my breath away.
I breathe through my swollen airway.
“When she knows she can’t win.”
She, apparently, speaks in third person now.
Feck the universe. It can go die in a deep, dark whole for this shite.
I don’t know what else to say. There is nothing else to say.
I reach for Spencer and cup his jaw. Dragging his mouth down, I do the only thing I can manage right now.
He responds before the next heartbeat falls, pressing his body against mine. His tongue coaxes my mouth open as his hands slide into my hair.
I shiver, and a beat later I’m on Spence’s hips, legs wrapped around him as he moves. Warmth caresses my skin and I open my eyes.
Just in time for him to sink to the blanket.
“I know you’re cold, baby, but I need my mouth to be on your skin.”
Without hesitation, I shrug off the coat.
Some things are worth the sacrifice.
Spence takes over, tugging my ribbed long-sleeved shirt from my body, leaving behind my lacy pale-blue bra. My nipples harden painfully the second the cold breeze finds them, straining against the lace.
Spence groans, and I wriggle in his lap.
His hard length rubs over the throb that has grown in my center.
I pull at his clothes and soon we are back to where we were, but naked now and pawing at each other, pants exchanging between us like white clouds of our own creation.
I reach behind me and grab for the extra blanket we brought just in case.
It’s huge, being off the big bed, and I wrap it around the both of us.
“Warmer, baby?” Spence chuckles.
“Not warm enough,” I breathe as I rise to my knees.
He dips his head and captures my nipple in his hot mouth as his tip nudges my entrance.
Palming his face, I lift it, guiding his gaze to mine.
“Spe—”
He’s shaking his head.
“Down,” he growls.