Chapter Seven
Doubting
Siena, June 24, 2011, Dallas, TX
The confluence of Lindsey’svile phone call, Ryan’s new partner’s filthy innuendo, and my strange vision shook me enough to book the next available flight to Dallas. But my worries vanished when the reality of traveling with an infant set in. In addition to the heavy car seat with the screaming baby inside, my hands and shoulders were loaded with a giant diaper bag, a small suitcase, and a portable crib I’d acquired for the occasion. In hindsight, it should have been delivered to Ryan’s apartment, but I’d been too disturbed to plan ahead. At least Guinness was staying with Emma and Jason.
I spotted Ryan at the gate. Charcoal slacks and blue shirt with no tie, top button undone—he’d come straight from work. A fleeting grin, then, he was crushing me in his arms, his lips bruising mine and taking my breath.
“We’re heading to the restaurant.” He pulled away too soon. “It’s the only time Viv and I could carve out this entire week.”
“Cool.” I forced my frown into a smile, hoping to never again hear “Viv and I” in the same sentence.
Ryan’s narrowed eyes lingered on me a moment too long before he unbuckled our baby and lifted him up in the air. “Remember me, buddy?”
Austin stared down at his father with rounded eyes.
“Don’t be silly.” I shot him a bright smile. “How could he possibly forget?”
Ryan returned our son into his car seat and buckled him in. “Hey—” He grabbed the portable crib and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder. “You’re the one who decided to stay behind.”
I bit the inside of my lip, the magnitude of my ill-conceived decision hitting me like a ton of bricks. I was stuck in D.C. for months, lonely and uneasy, while my husband lived alone in Dallas, overworked and bitter; our son’s first year marked by his father’s absence.
Our silence on the drive did nothing to improve my mood.
“Is Viv bringing anyone?” I asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to restore our lines of communication.
“No, she’s single.”
Great.
“Was it her idea to meet over dinner?”
Ryan shot me a glance. “No, it was mine. I want you to meet my partner.”
“Why?”
Ryan took in a sharp intake of breath. “Because I get it, Sie. I know you’re not thrilled I’m spending every waking moment in the company of another woman. And I thought you should meet her, so you’d feel more comfortable.”
I straightened, heart fluttering. The way he put a premium on trust, I couldn’t tell him I’d eavesdropped on his conversation with Viv—unless I explained how it happened first.
I cleared my throat. “Ryan, listen—”
He took my hand and brought it to his lips. “C’mon, love, let’s not make this harder than it already is.”
I stared into his eyes. Apart from revealing my unsubstantiated insecurities, what would telling him achieve? He wasn’t the one who walked into her office with lewd suggestions. He wasn’t accountable for other people’s actions.
Our dinner reservation was at a lively Texas-style diner: wooden plank walls, oversized booths, giant TV monitors showing multiple games.
“She’s running late.” Ryan took out his phone as we waited for our table. “She’s got a ridiculous deadline.”
I glanced at his screen as he tapped to open a new text. It contained a woman’s selfie in front of an elevator, her lips puckered in a kiss.
An icy chill filled my veins.
He put the phone away. “She’s on her way.”
“Does she always send you selfies?”
“No.” He frowned. “She’s just trying to be funny—waiting for the elevator, rushing to meet the two of us, blowing a kiss, you know.”
No, I didn’t know.
Viv arrived a few minutes after we’d been seated.
I scoffed under my breath, shrugging off a misplaced wave of déjà vu—I doubted I’d ever met this woman in my past life.
If I had to use one word to describe her as I watched her march toward us at a soldier’s clip, it was “perky.” She was perky through and through—from her cheerleader ponytail to her small, perky breasts, emphasized by her fitted dress shirt, to her perky behind, sticking out cheerfully in her tight trousers, to her perky little mouth, to her bright, piercing eyes. She was like a small, taut spring, her entire body made of one solid, perky muscle.
“Hey, Casey.” She tipped her chin at Ryan, her voice nasal and penetrating. “Thought I was never gonna be done with that shit-show?”
She tended to raise her pitch at the end of each sentence. I hadn’t noticed when listening to their disturbing exchange.
“You must be the missus? Vivian Golding—” She extended her hand, her handshake firm and predictably perky. “Heard a lot about you.”
I shook her hand. “Siena.”
Ms. Perky was indeed not Ryan’s type. Although he never stated this implicitly, he preferred a woman with soft curves who didn’t act like his buddy. The tension left me in a single tide as I swapped places with Austin’s car seat to face Ryan.
Ms. Perky sat beside him.
I clenched my jaw at the sight of them side by side, then sat taller and smiled. Agent Vivian Golding was now under my continual surveillance.
Sick to my stomach, I stared at my hands. What in the world was the matter with me? Ms. Perky was not his type. She also wasn’t his date. She was his partner at the FBI.
The waiter brought the menus and went over the specials in an unhurried Texan drawl.
“Lemme see—hey!” Ms. Perky elbowed Ryan after the waiter left to get our drinks. “They’ve got your favorite back on.”
I studied her as she studied the menu. An innocent remark or a subtle way of letting me know they’d gotten so close she knew his favorite dinner choices?
I shook myself. Get a freaking grip.
“So.” She put down her menu and gave me a charming smile. Other than a little mascara, she wore no makeup, her face fresh and cheerful. “How did the two of you meet?”
I returned her smile. “It was centuries ago.”
Ms. Perky squirmed in her seat and glanced at Ryan. But he only raised an amused eyebrow.
“How about you?” I redirected the conversation cleverly—or so I thought. “Are you in a relationship?”
Ryan shot me a look over his glass. Yes, he told me. But I wanted to hear it for myself.
She waved my question away, like the answer was only too obvious. “I’m sooo busy—I mean, career-wise, Siena? I don’t have time for this sort of thing.” She chewed on her lip. “I mean, I guess I could make it work—kinda like Casey—long-distance lite.” She gave a boisterous laugh, elbowing Ryan good-naturedly, a not-so-subtle glint in her eye. “Aww, don’t look so butthurt, dude, I’m totally teasing.”
I laughed with her, deciding to pay her back when the opportunity presented itself.
After the waiter brought our food, she questioned me about my “painter job,” talked about me in the third person, and elbowed Ryan a few more times. Our plates were almost empty when Austin, who’d fallen asleep in the car, began to make his little noises under the blanket I’d draped over the car seat handle.
“Oh, shit—is that a baby there?” Ms. Perky stared across the table in horror. “I totally thought it was your luggage. You didn’t tell me she was bringing him?”
Ryan didn’t answer. His gaze was on his son, who was beginning to wail as I removed the blanket.
“Aww, what’s wrong?” Ms. Perky scrunched up her face, affecting concern.
“He wants dinner, too.” I smiled pleasantly, taking Austin out.
“Oh my God, he’s so stinking cute!” She sounded sincere for the first time. “He totally looks like you, Casey!”
She bit her lip. Yeah, that didn’t come out right.
Ignoring her, I threw on my brand-new nursing cover, placed Austin under it, and settled back against the bench cushion.
Ms. Perky stared like I grew a second head. “I mean, wow, that’s so—like—amazing that you’re breastfeeding.” A smirk, not a smile, crossed her face. “But, I mean, does it feel totally weird to be someone else’s food? Like, it seems so pre-feminist.”
Heat, fast and furious, rushed through me like a blaze. But I swallowed a snide comeback. She was a muscled little bitch, but I had muscles too, even if they weren’t visible at the moment. I’d flex them before our dinner was over.
‘No,” I said. “It feels very natural and pleasant.”
I gave Ryan a small smile. Eyes glued to me, he didn’t return it.
Austin wasn’t used to the cover and soon succeeded in sticking out his little arm. His favorite activity while nursing was stroking my nose and lips, and he got to the business at hand without delay.
“Oh, that’s so fucking sweet.” Ms. Perky gushed as her phone chimed. “Hang on, you guys—” She bent to her handbag to retrieve it.
Deciding the cover was a new toy, Austin played with it, his tiny hand going up and down, up—and down. I reached for it, then thought better of it. The booth afforded privacy, and aside from Ryan and Ms. Perky, no one in the restaurant could see me. I couldn’t care less whether Ms. Perky saw me or not.
Up—and down. Up—and more up, and—the baby held it up. I glanced at Ryan over the cover to find him with lips parted and eyes unblinking.
I grinned with sick, unbecoming satisfaction. Yeah, we’re a little kinky, Ryan and I. In fact, I’d bet anything—
Still grinning, I slid down the pleather-covered bench, kicked off my ballet flat, and stretched my leg under the table. My foot landed on the rock-hard proof. Eyes locked on mine, Ryan cleared his throat and ran his firm thumb over my instep, then down and across my freshly pedicured toes.
The baby had finished with one side, and I moved him to the other, making sure to keep the cover lifted the entire time. It seemed I’d finally learned to combine nursing with other things.
“You’re not gonna believe what Regina just sent.” Ms. Perky didn’t notice Ryan’s quickened breath when she looked up from her phone.
I smirked. We’d both forgotten about her.
“That flash drive—it’s got some juicy stuff on it—” She meant to drop the phone into the small handbag on her lap, but it landed on the floor instead.
“Shit.” She dove under the table to retrieve it, and Ryan’s hand froze on top of my foot. But I kept up my unhurried up-and-down motion.
Reappearing, Ms. Perky, who was no longer so perky, dug into her wallet and tossed some bills on the table.
“Um, I’m gonna bail,” she squeezed out through her beet-red face. She didn’t look good blushing. “Nice to meet you, Siena.”
“Great to meet you too, Vivian.” I gave her the sincerest of smiles, lowering my foot a bit to graze it over Ryan’s only tender region. “Hope to see you again soon.”
Face tighter than her outfit, she mumbled a response and left.
“My place is ten minutes away,” said Ryan, paying the bill on the spot.
“Good,” I said, putting my foot down.
Austin had finished his dinner, so I lifted the cover and took him off my breast.
“You’re killing me, Sie,” Ryan groaned. “I can’t even get up.”
I placed the baby in the car seat and handed it to him. “Here, carry this in the front.”
My hand replaced my foot as he drove us to his apartment.
“I have a confession to make,” I said.
He glanced at me. “That you want me to fuck you in the car?”
“No.” I laughed. “That the Cowboy has seen more action than your say-so.”
He released a shuddering breath. “Stop, love, or I’ll crash.”
***
I stalled at Ryan’sfront door, sick to my stomach at the sight of a quintessential bachelor’s pad: masculine furniture, giant pool table next to a wet bar, black king-size bed in a large bedroom. The place was a terrible mess: clothes and shoes scattered all over, empty beer bottles on top of the dresser, dozens of credit card receipts piled in random places.
“Sorry, I didn’t have time to tidy up,” he said as I stood in the middle of it all clutching my purse. “I only sleep here, anyway.”
The portable crib assembly took a while, but by the time Ryan had changed Austin’s diaper and settled him with toys, I’d unpacked and undressed.
I’d never seen my husband get out of his clothes at one hundred miles per hour.
“So—” He stared up at me a bit later, his hands driving my thighs into the mattress. “How many times?”
“I’ve been a bad girl.”
This wasn’t a new thing to say in our bed, so why did my heart drop to the pit of my stomach at the sound of these words?
He circled his tongue around my most sensitive spot. Stopped. “How many?”
“Four.” I swallowed, inexplicably on the brink of weeping.
“Then, four is all you get.”
He pulled himself up after four flicks of the tongue, making us switch roles. He tasted of fresh cotton and cool rain. Of centuries that never ended, that would never end. The tip of his arousal thrust past my limits, deliberate, unconcerned. Mine. I sank my fingertips into his hard buttocks and pushed him harder. I’ll never, ever let you go. My body abandoned physical bounds, floated above the earth in a desperate, frenzied need to please him. To keep him, to own him, all of him. Only me.
He drew back, traced the shape of my lips. “How badly do you want it?”
“Very badly,” I forced out through the growing tightness in my chest.
My eyes burned and itched when he shook his head, as if unconvinced. I pushed down a lump in my throat. He was mine—always and forever. Wasn’t he? But I couldn’t stop my unraveling.
I hid my face in my shoulder as his warm breath swept my skin once again, tender as a butterfly wing. A sudden flash of memory—a fiery butterfly glaring from the wet flowerbed of yellow hyacinths, wings spread apart as if in a challenge. He will leave you for another. Oh, yes, he will.
“Why do you doubt me?” Ryan breathed between perfectly timed strokes, his fingers caressing my every curve. “I love you, silly girl.”
I smothered my sobs with a pillow.
“Yeah...” he murmured, “let it go, my love.”
It was early dawn when I lay in his arms, flushed, sticky, and almost sore after a full night of raunchy lovemaking. I never wanted any other kind. Yet the clock ticked, drawing my return flight closer with every second.
I squeezed my eyes shut, buried my face in the perfect circle of his Ouroboros tattoo. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.” The words escaped before I could stop them.
“This long-distance thing is really getting to you.” A deep groove formed between his sandy eyebrows. “There are exactly zero ways for me to get hurt sitting at my desk.”
I nodded, kicking myself. “How do you like working on this case?”
“It’s a big one, love. The CEO, Longworth, will be going away for a very long time. Others, too.” He tucked an errant strand behind my ear. “People don’t change—only fashions and hair styles. How’s your project going?”
“I’m painting as fast as I can. The senator is never there, thank goodness.”
He raised his head.
Shit. “Wouldn’t want a client watching over my shoulder.”
Ryan stared. “I looked him up.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay?”
“I wanted to talk to you. His separation from his wife—it was messy. She’s not a happy camper—” Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “He’s got a bit of a wild side, apparently.”
My stomach clenched to the point of pain. “What do you mean?”
He cleared his throat. “Lots of stealthy affairs.”
I blinked. I’m not the only one doubting.
“Well, that’s his business. I’m there to paint, right?”
“Right.” Ryan gave a slow nod. “What did you think of Viv?”
I contemplated my response, Ms. Perky’s snarky remarks miles away. “I think she’ll make a good partner,” I said, meaning it. “She’s got a lot of energy.”
“That she does.” He chuckled. “She loves all the running around and busy work—you know, all the stuff I hate.” He released a long, gratifying sigh. “She’s perfect for me.”
A little bird told me Ryan has moved on without you.My stomach dropped at the unbidden recall, but I pushed it down and got up to prepare for my flight home.