Of course he wouldn’t. Ryker would never let anyone in because he was made of steel. She’d never seen him show emotion, other than frustration and anger. But he never talked about what drove him to those feelings. The clenching of the muscles in his perfectly squared jaw indicated he was angry. Other than that, he played his cards seriously close to his chest.
“Whatever.” She waved a hand in the air. “I’m feeling fine. There. Now you’ve checked up on me, and you can go on your way, guilt-free. This all could’ve been done in a text.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “But if you were feeling bad you’d lie, and I wanted to see for myself.”
Laney went for broke. “I think we both know between the two of us who would lie about how they feel.”
When he remained still, silent, Laney was done. They were getting nowhere, and she wasn’t in the mood to play games or whatever the hell else he wanted.
“I won’t keep you out of the baby’s life, but I don’t want your attention just because I’m pregnant. I’ve waited for years for you to notice me. I thought Miami was something, but I was clearly mistaken, since you ignored me until you knew I was having your child.”
All of that was so hard to admit, but at this point what did she have to lose? She wasn’t one to hide her feelings, which only made Ryker squirm. Good. He deserved it.
The second she jerked the door open, a burst of cold air rushed in. “If you’re done here...”
Laney turned and stared out at the blowing flakes. She didn’t want to look at him, not when she still craved him. Putting up some type of emotional barrier was the only way she’d survive this.
Heavy boots moved across her hardwood floor. Ryker stopped right in front of her but kept his gaze out the open door. Laney stared at his black, leather-clad shoulder. The smell of his jacket, the familiar woodsy cologne and the unmistakable scent that she only associated with Ryker assaulted her senses. Why did he have to be the one to hold her emotionally captive?
“I’ve noticed you,” he whispered as he remained rooted inches from her. “I’ve noticed too much for too long.”
Laney’s breath caught in her throat.
“But Miami won’t happen again.” Turning, he locked those dark eyes on her. “I’ll check on you while I’m away.”
And then he was gone. Shoulders hunched against the blowing snow, head down, Ryker walked off her porch and down the walk toward his car. Despite shivering, Laney waited until he was in the SUV with the engine running before she closed the door...but not before she caught him looking back at her.
Just that glance from a distance was enough to have her stomach doing flops, her heart pounding.
Ryker may be checking on her because of the baby, something she couldn’t be upset about, but his telling words gave her hope. He’d noticed her. And from the way he seemed to be angry about it, he’d clearly been fighting with himself over the fact for a while now.
Laney leaned back against her door and wrapped her arms around her abdomen. She had no idea what was going to happen now that she and Ryker were on this journey, but one thing was perfectly clear. They were in this together, whether he liked it or not.
“I don’t like this.”
Ryker’s cell phone lay on the console as he watched the house across the street. With Braden on speaker, Ryker could focus on who was coming and going.
“I’m not a fan myself, but I think there’s something here,” Ryker replied.
This was his first interaction with Braden since Ryker discovered Laney was expecting. The guilt of his betrayal weighed heavily on his chest. The O’Sheas had been everything to him over the years, and he’d purposely kept his distance from Laney because he knew what would happen if he touched her. Just one touch, that’s all it would’ve taken at any given time for him to snap.
But she’d mouthed off at the party and between her sass and that body-hugging dress, his self-control had finally expired.
Damn, the woman could tempt a saint...not that he was anywhere near that holy. But he’d completely lost it in Miami. Years of pent-up frustration, the fact she’d been receiving threats and not sharing that information, and the way she’d looked in that short black dress had been the combination for his undoing.
“How long are you going to wait?” Braden’s low tone cut through the memories.
Ryker rubbed the penny between his thumb and index finger, hating the way he carried the damn thing around like some good-luck charm. He was pathetic for even still having it, but the reminder of where he came from always needed to be front and center.
“I’ve seen a member of the DeLuca family go in, but nothing else.”
The DeLuca family was known for organized crime. Thugs, actually. They didn’t even compare to the O’Sheas, though Ryker thought some members of law enforcement would lump the two families in the same category...or prison cell.
“What activity has Laney uncovered?” Braden asked.
Ryker raked a hand down his face. “She’s seen some email chatter with several family members discussing moving a package. When she dug a little deeper, she found they have an old trunk in the basement that contains some documents. But we have no clue what they are.”
Ryker didn’t know how the coveted scrolls would’ve ended up hours away from where they were last seen or how they were in a basement belonging to an organized crime family, but this was the strongest lead they’d had in a while. Ryker had followed every tip that had popped up. He’d been to London twice, Mexico, Paris and several US states.
When Patrick passed several months ago, he had one dying request. He wanted the scrolls found and returned to the O’Shea family. He’d tried for years to recover them but to no avail. Ryker fully intended to finish the job...it was the least he could do for the people to whom he owed his life.
“Damn, Laney is calling me,” Braden stated. “Keep me posted no matter what happens or what time it is.”
Laney was calling? Was she okay? Did something happen?
Every time he’d thought of her since Miami, all he could think about was the way she came apart in his arms. She’d been so responsive, so passionate. Now when he thought of her, all he could think was that she was carrying his child. His. Child.
The words didn’t seem real even in his own mind. How the hell was he going to take care of a baby? What did he know? His father had only taught him how to get high, get laid and steal. The essentials of every childhood according to dear ole Dad.
Ryker kept his eyes on the house, but his mind wasn’t on the job. Damn. This was why he never got involved with anyone. His loyalties were with Braden and Mac now. And by default, as their baby sister, Laney. If he was worrying about anyone, especially a woman, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the task at hand. And the task sure as hell wasn’t Laney.
She’d called Braden, not Ryker. That shouldn’t bother him, but it did. There was no denying that he wanted to be the one she called on when she needed anything. But he couldn’t be that deep in her life and keep his distance at the same time.
His mind went into overdrive. If something was going on with the baby, she wouldn’t have called Braden, that much Ryker was sure of.
Ryker disconnected the call. The penny was heavy in his hand. Over the years, he’d tried to tell himself that the souvenir from the best day of his life was ridiculous and childish to keep. Yet each day he left his house, he grabbed his keys and the penny and shoved them in his pocket. He couldn’t seem to let go of his past.
Story of his life.
After