In This With You, page 26
“I know about his past.” Ryder’s fists clench along with his jaw. “He’s my best friend.”
“Well, he’s my husband, so maybe I know a little bit more than you do.” I scoop my shoes off of the blanket and start shuffling toward the trail that leads to the street. My heart hammers, the need to get back to the condo to check in with you is suddenly overwhelming, intense. I dial your phone number even though I know I’ll just get your voicemail again.
“Where the hell are you going?” Ryder calls after me.
“Where do you think?”
If my brother thinks I’m going to stand here and argue with him instead of trying to fix whatever he might have broken between you and me, he’s delusional.
“Wait,” Luna says. “We’re coming with you.”
“We are?”
“I don’t always agree with Steph on this, but right now I do,” Luna says. “You are being a complete idiot, Ryder North. Your sister is in love with your best friend, and he’d be an absolute moron if he didn’t feel the same way.”
“Love?” Ryder asks dumbly. “Steph loves Nick?”
But I’m too far away to hear Luna’s response to his question, and I don’t wait for them as I walk the half mile back to the cottage. Even when they catch up to me on the other side of the highway, I hardly notice. I’m too busy dialing your number over and over again, wondering why the fuck you won’t answer.
Forty-Eight
Steph
Where are you, Nick?
Your car is parked in the lot outside of the building, but you’re nowhere in the apartment. And your phone is on the kitchen island, which explains all of my unanswered calls and texts.
I send Ryder down to scope out the storage unit in the basement and Luna next door to ask Miss Bernice if she’s seen you while I call Gina and Mark just in case you somehow wound up at their place on foot.
You haven’t.
“Will you call me when you find him?” Gina asks at the end of our call. She sounds a little more frantic than I’m used to. “I feel somewhat responsible for this.”
I don’t know what she means by that, and quite frankly I don’t have time to listen to her explain. “Of course.”
After I hang up, I immediately dial Nan’s number. I know she hasn’t left her house since your grandad died, but maybe you called her and she came to pick you up. It sounds like such an unbelievable idea, though, but I’m desperate. As I wait for her to pick up, I begin to pace in front of the wall of windows. The sun is nothing but a sliver lighting up the low-hanging clouds on the horizon.
“Steph, love,” Nan answers, bright and cheery. “Were your ears burning? I was just on a video chat with my sister in Dublin, telling her all about the brilliant woman my grandson has married. Any news?”
Nan has become such a comfort to me since I met her at Christmas that, as soon I hear the familiar lilt of her caramel-dredged voice, my somewhat strong façade finally cracks. A sob rises in my chest.
Biting my lip to keep my tears contained, I stare at my reflection in the window and try to breathe. When I blink, the sea comes into sharp focus beyond the glass. Instead of focusing on the horizon like I did before, I cast my gaze on the waves below. I am drawn to a dark outline bobbing in the breakers almost immediately. A crashing wave retreats and more of that dark outline is revealed.
As soon as I realize I’m looking at a person, I know it’s you.
I’d recognize the slope of your strong shoulders and the shape of the back of your head anywhere. Plus, no one else would be out in the waves at this time of day in early March, when the air temperature isn’t much warmer than the frigid water.
“He’s not next door,” Luna says as she comes into the condo.
“And he’s not downstairs or in any of the stairwells,” Ryder adds as he shuffles in behind her.
“I see him,” I say, that sob finally racking through me.
“See who, love?” Nan asks. I almost forgot I was on the phone with her.
“It’s a long story,” I say. “I’ll fill you in later, but everything is fine. Everyone is safe.”
“I didn’t know anyone was in danger,” Nan says.
“They weren’t,” I say as I move as quickly as I can toward the door. “Pregnancy brain. You know how it is. Talk soon.”
I’m down the hall and smashing the elevator call button repeatedly with my fist before Ryder and Luna catch up to me. Ryder’s brows are stitched tightly together, the look in his eyes almost searing me as he searches my face. Tears of relief flow down my cheeks, but I’m sure he finds panic and worry in my features as well.
How long have you been in the ocean? Why have you ventured farther from shore than you usually go when you do your cold plunges? What the hell kind of a wife am I if it took me that long to realize you were right outside this entire time?
“Breathe, Steph,” Luna tells me as we ride the elevator down to the ground floor.
My fists are clenched at my side, my body trembling, and I don’t think I’ve taken a breath since I hung up the phone with Nan.
I have the urge to hit something, to release some of this pent-up energy. Ryder stands beside me, closer than close, most likely feeling guilty for everything he’s said and done. I could hit him, sure, but I don’t. He’s an idiot, yes, but he’s my idiot. I can’t go pounding him every time he does something this stupid. We’re not kids anymore. Besides, he apologized to me repeatedly on the drive across town. Didn’t stop until Luna and I begged him to.
Still, there is a rage in me I can’t control. It’s fear-based, I know this. That knowledge doesn’t stop me from rearing back and driving my fist into the cork community board tacked to the elevator wall beside me. The pain in my hand rocks through me, but the gasp I take finally fills my lungs with air.
“What the fuck did you do that for?” Ryder shouts.
“So I wouldn’t punch you,” I eke out, doubled over and clutching my fist to my chest. Nothing’s broken. I would’ve felt that immediately. But it’ll bruise.
“You two are eerily similar, you know that?” Luna says as the elevator slows.
“Thanks,” Ryder and I both deadpan.
As soon as the doors whoosh open, I fly through the lobby, skating down the side hall that leads straight out to the beach. Ryder and Luna are right on my heels. We burst through the door, scurry down the steps, and race across the sand.
Dusk makes it hard to see, but I still notice you’re dressed in one of your vintage suits. I don’t see the dry robe you usually bring down with you. This was an unplanned dip in the cold ocean, and that chills me to the bone for a number of reasons.
You stumble when the next wave crashes a foot in front of your body and plows into your neck. A second later, your head dips under, and it’s hard to tell if it’s intentional or not. When only the dark slather of your curls bobs above the surface of the water, I decide not intentional.
“Ryder, pull him out of there,” I tell my brother sternly, pushing down every bit of fear I can manage and shifting into nurse-mode. My brother might be an idiot, but his protective instincts kicked in before I said a word. He’s already wading into the water. I swivel on the balls of my feet, holding my stomach with both hands, because the baby is moving like crazy. I look up at Luna. “Go back to the apartment. There’s a small laundry room in the master bathroom. In there, you’ll find several beach towels and a dry robe. It’s black and almost waterproof on the outside with a fleece lining inside. Bring it all down here as fast as you can.”
“On it.” Luna sprints through the dry sand back toward the apartment.
As soon as Ryder is within an arm’s reach of you, I step into the water up to my ankles. Heart in throat. Hand on churning belly.
I should be breathing a sigh of relief that he’s gotten to you, but a wave tumbles toward you, overtaken by another just behind it, and creates a wall of frothy, angry water that slams into both of you. I gasp and wade farther into the water just as you and Ryder disappear for a moment. The hem of the long peasant dress you bought me is soaked in an instant.
I know I shouldn’t be out here. The waves in West Cove are too unpredictable. Too many riptides. Too strong of an undertow. Plus I’m not used to the cold. The baby isn’t used to the cold. And yet, here I am, up to my thighs now in the brine, unable to move back. Even as Ryder half-carries, half-drags you to me.
“Steph, stay on shore,” my brother barks. Another wave pummels into the two of you. This time, it only rises to your chest, leaving your head alone.
“No.” I take another step toward you, and your eyes catch in mine. They’re glassy. You’re here, but not. Aware, but distant. A smile still grows on your cheeks, wide as the Pacific, but it quickly falls as you begin to shiver.
The wave that hit the two of you keeps moving and slams into me at the waist. I have to hop from foot to foot to stay upright. But I never take my eyes off of you.
“Stephanie Louise,” Ryder says. “Shore. Now.”
“Love her,” you mutter to my brother, your words slurred.
“I know,” Ryder says.
“Love her so much.”
“Let’s just get you warm, man.” Ryder grunts when I take a step toward you. “Fuck, Steph. It’s too cold for you. He’s going to be okay.”
But I don’t listen. I don’t think I could walk away from you now even if I wanted to.
I drag your arm over my shoulder, supporting you on the opposite side as my brother. Fuck, baby. Your tweed suit is soaked and your skin is ice. It’s hard to stay steady in the knee deep waves with you quaking like this. Your teeth even clack together.
We get you onto the dry sand just as Luna reaches the top of the steps with the towels and robe I asked for. Ryder helps me lower you to the ground, then steps back to let me work.
I straddle your lap, and while this might be sexy any other time, right now I’m only worried about getting you out of these wet clothes.
The buttons on your suit vest are easy. It’s the ones running the length of your dress shirt that are a real pain in the ass. They’re small and seem to be fused to their posts. It doesn’t help that my hands are cold and shaking. You breathe hard, and whereas your breath would normally be warm on my skin, it’s chilling.
“Thanks, babe,” Ryder says to Luna as she arrives.
“Take one of those towels for yourself, Ry,” I say idly.
“Do you want his dry robe?” Luna asks me, breathing hard from her sprint.
“I need to get him out of his wet clothes first,” I say, then grunt. “Fucking buttons.”
Grasping the sides of your shirt halfway down your chest, I apply all my strength and rip the fabric the rest of the way off, revealing your light brown skin, flecked with goosebumps and tinged blue. You chuckle.
“Do that again,” you mumble.
“You like that?” I ask as I work your arms out of the sleeves. I hold out a hand to Luna. “Robe.”
I slide your shaking hands and arms through the fleece-lined sleeves and pull the top of the calf-length robe up around your shoulders. After tugging on the hood, I ease you back so that you’re lying flat on the sand. I pop the button on your trousers and drag the zipper down.
“His shoes,” Luna says as I start wriggling your toned legs out of your tailored pants.
“Fuck, Nick,” I say, glancing back as Luna begins to remove your footwear. “Those are your favorite brogues.”
You moan—the only response you are able to make—and I’m grateful for even that much of an answer. If you go silent on me, I know we’re in trouble.
As soon as your shoes are off, I send Luna back up to your apartment to put the kettle on. We need to warm you up, but we need to do it slowly. Once you’re stripped naked, I zip up your dry robe and have Ryder help me get you to your feet.
“Want me to fireman carry him?” Ryder asks with a laugh when you can barely shuffle forward.
“Yeah, actually,” I say. “That’d be great.”
“Fuck, I was joking.”
“I’m not,” I say. “The wind is starting to pick up and we need to get inside, like, yesterday.”
“Shit,” Ryder says.
Yeah, I think. Shit.
Forty-Nine
Steph
You hardly seem to notice Ryder fold you over his shoulder and carry you across the beach. Up the stairs. Into the elevator.
We’re halfway to our floor when your hand knocks into my shoulder. I think it’s involuntary, but when you bump me again, your fingers wiggling, I slip my hand into yours, realizing this is what you want.
You squeeze lightly, and I squeeze back. Nurse-mode is slipping away, and the need to cry arises once more. I kiss the back of your hand, right in the center of that gothic rose tattoo.
“Don’t scare me like that again,” I whisper.
“Mm,” is your only response.
Back inside the apartment, I pile pillows up on your side of the bed before Ryder lays you down. He stays with you as I go into the kitchen to help Luna with a cup of tea and when I return I catch the tail-end of your conversation.
“…shouldn’t have done that, man,” my brother says. “I’m sorry.”
“’s okay,” you mutter.
“It’s not,” I say, glaring at Ryder as I sit down on the edge of the bed and press the tea mug to your lips. “Small sips, baby.”
“I didn’t know how serious you two were, Steph,” Ryder says. Hands in pockets. Head bowed. “You know how I can overreact.”
“We were both so scared to tell you,” I say truthfully. “Because we were afraid you might go off the rails like this. But knowing you flipped out on Nick the way you did so you could see what he’s made of was not okay. I know you’re protective of me, but you’re my brother, not my father. And I’m not a child. Yes, I admit I should have been honest about what was going on with Nick and me from the beginning, but I didn’t expect to fall in love with your best friend of all people. I was more than a little caught up trying to navigate my feelings in this relationship than making sure my thirty-year-old brother was placated.”
“I understand that,” Ryder says through clenched teeth.
I quirk a brow. He’s never gotten to an understanding that fast in his life. He’s the most stubborn person I know. More stubborn than me, which is hard for you to believe, I’m sure.
“Really?” I ask, still skeptical.
“I’m just so used to the guys you’re with treating you like dirt,” Ryder says. “I guess—”
“S-she’s a queen,” you stutter, the cold still clinging tightly to you. “I’d never.”
“I know.” Ryder purses his lips. Nods his head. “Old habits die hard and all that.”
“I need you to be okay with this,” I tell Ryder. I gesture between you and me. “Nick’s my family now, too.”
“Once I get over the shock,” Ryder begins, “I’m going to be more than okay with this. You mean the world to me. Both of you. Even if I show it in stupid ways sometimes.”
“Thanks.” I offer my brother a soft smile.
“Mm,” you hum.
Ryder leans down and kisses my forehead. “Do you need us to stick around?”
“We’re good,” I say, helping you take another sip of tea. “GG marathon tomorrow at the cottage?”
Ryder steps into the hall. “I’ll bring the bear claws.”
“Knew you were good for something.”
“Gotta redeem myself somehow.”
“Love you, idiot,” I tell him.
“Love you, too.”
“And I love you, too,” Luna pipes up from the main room. “Just wanted to make that clear.”
I roll my eyes and smile. “Love you, Luna.”
They slip out the front door a minute later, leaving us on our own.
It feels like a year and a half since we were by ourselves. Was it really just this morning when we woke up tangled in each other’s arms?
I tremble slightly as I lift the mug to your lips again, and you catch my wrist in your hand, your fingers overlapping by a few inches.
“You’re c-cold,” you say as you shiver.
“I’m cold?” I snort. “You’re practically hypothermic.”
You tug on the fabric of my dress, which is heavy and damp still. I shudder when your fingertips slide over the bare skin of my legs.
“Off,” you say.
“Are you trying to start something with me, Nick?” I ask facetiously, even though sex might not be the worst idea. It’ll get the blood moving again. Might even help break some of the strange tension my brother created between us today. Help us both relax.
“W-with you?” You smile wide, and I drink it in. “Al-w-ways.”
I haven’t been as sex-crazed recently, like I was in the earlier part of my pregnancy, but I’m definitely Nick-crazed. Those dark eyes I find wandering over my body when I least expect it. Those strong hands that fit so perfectly in mine. Those small, genuine smiles I catch when you’re not even trying to be happy. Your laugh. Your smell. Your heart. I’m borderline obsessed, here.
“Would it be cruel to make a shivering man beg?” I ask, leaning in and hovering over your mouth with mine.
“Y-y-es,” you stutter. “But I l-like it.”
“Nick?” I swallow down the emotion gurgling to my surface as I have a flashback of Ryder pulling you out of the freezing water. It’s clear you stayed in longer than you normally do. Clear you wandered out farther, too.
“Mm?”
“What were you really doing out in the waves tonight?”
I close my eyes, not sure I’m prepared to hear your answer. At least with my eyes closed, I don’t have to watch your sweet face contort. Your cold fingertips slide up the edge of my jaw until your wide palm cups the side of my face. Your thumb brushes away a tear before it even has a chance to fall. I still can’t look at you.
