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Ryker (Steele Brothers #1)
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
About the Author
Other Books by Cheryl Douglas
Coming Soon…
Ryker
Book One in the Steel Brothers Series
Cheryl Douglas
Copyright © by Cheryl Douglas
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, including photocopying, graphic, electronic, mechanical, taping, recording, sharing, or by any information retrieval system without the express written permission of the author and / or publisher. Exceptions include brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Persons, places and other entities represented in this book are deemed to be fictitious. They are not intended to represent actual places or entities currently or previously in existence or any person living or dead. This work is the product of the author’s imagination.
Any and all inquiries to the author of this book should be directed to: [email protected]
Ryker © 2015 Cheryl Douglas
Ryker
Mackenzie Steele assumed she’d be with her husband forever. He was her best friend, the father of her children. But when weeks turned into months without intimacy, she realized she was too young to feel so old. She wanted to feel desirable again, to find the woman Ryker had fallen in love with twenty years ago. And there was only one way she knew how to do that… by asking him to move out.
Ryker was blindsided when his wife told him she wanted to separate. He knew they’d hit a rough patch, but he’d never allowed himself to imagine his life without her. Now he had no choice. She was happy without him, living life on her own terms, and he knew if he didn’t find a place for himself in her new life, it would be too late to save his marriage.
Prologue
Mackenzie
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. Sure, I’d thought them a thousand times over the past year, but I never thought I’d hear myself say them. But there they were, out in the open, hovering in the emptiness between us, demanding attention, acknowledgement… something.
“You think we should separate?” Ryker asked. “You want me to move out?”
I could hear the disbelief in my husband’s voice. After seventeen years of marriage, almost twenty years together, he couldn’t believe I was asking him to walk away.
“You had to know this was coming.” I was sitting on the edge of the chair, unable to sit, unable to stand, unable to breathe. “It’s not that I don’t love you anymore.” I reached for his hand but drew back when he glared at me. “You know I do.”
“Don’t,” he said between clenched teeth. “Don’t tell me you’re just not in love with me anymore.”
Was I? I didn’t know anymore. He was still my best friend, the father of my two children. That’s what made this so painful. I didn’t dislike him. I didn’t resent him. I just… didn’t really know him anymore. Or myself for that matter.
I always thought it was so cliché when I’d heard couples say they’d grown apart after years together. I thought Ryker and I were different. That would never happen to us. We were too intense, too passionate, too much in love. But it had happened. And I didn’t know how to fix it, or whether I even had the energy to try to repair the rift between us.
“Why?” His hands were clasped between his bent knees. He was looking at the ground, fixating on the Persian rug beneath his booted feet. “Why are you doing this?”
“We haven’t had sex in six months, Ryker.” I whispered the words even though our boys were down the street, hanging out with friends. I knew they could walk in at any moment. “I tried talking to you about it so many times. You just said you were tired or stressed about work or were paranoid about waking the kids.”
“All of that was true!” He sighed, lowering his voice. “You know how hard I work, Mac.”
“I know.”
When I’d first met Ryker, he was a badass. A tattooed biker with a penchant for women and trouble. But we fell in love. I wanted to get married and he didn’t want to lose me, so he proposed. I often wonder if he felt coerced. Especially when I got pregnant within the first year of marriage. He’d vowed to be a better man for the sake of his son. To leave that life behind and focus on providing for his family. And he’d come through. In a big way.
He was now the owner of a multi-million dollar company that made some of the most sought-after custom motorcycles in the world. His client list included Forbes wealthiest, A-list celebrities, and old money who wanted a taste of how the bikers lived.
I was so proud of him, but a part of me missed the carefree thrill-seeker he’d been before his life revolved around employing hundreds of people.
“What about counselling?”
I could tell by the way he posed the question that he’d rather undergo a tooth extraction. Men like Ryker didn’t air their problems in public, especially with strangers. We’d been together for several years before he’d opened up enough to tell me about the house of horrors he’d grown up in. I knew a therapist would open that Pandora’s box, assuming it was related to our current intimacy issues. Knowing he was willing to go through that for the sake of our marriage touched me, but I doubted it would help, and I refused to put him through that knowing the outcome would likely be the same.
“Do you really think it would help?”
He clenched one fist in the other without answering. “Maybe we should take a vacation, just the two of us. I bet your mom would stay with the kids if—”
“Ryker, are you still attracted to me?” It pained me to ask, but I had to know.
He shifted uncomfortably. “What kind of question is that?”
The fact that he couldn’t look at me or answer me directly told me all I needed to know. My husband wasn’t aroused by me anymore. That’s why he didn’t want to have sex with me. It was a serious blow to my ego, but I couldn’t claim to be surprised.
I was nearing forty, and the boys’ sports came before my manicures. There was more and more gray creeping into my ash-blond hair every day. I was carrying an extra twenty-five pounds, at least, and my wardrobe looked like the inside of a Lulu store. Comfy, that was my motto. Sexy was too much trouble, and apparently my marriage had suffered because of it.
But I knew it was more than my appearance. Ryker wasn’t that shallow. I’d lost myself, stopped loving myself. So how could I expect him to love me?
“I just need time,” I said, praying I wouldn’t cry. “Maybe after we’ve been apart awhile—”
“You’ll let me come back?”
He sounded so hopeful it almost made me question whether we could find our way back.
Looking at him now, I realized how unfair it was that he was sexier now than he’d been the day we met. He was over forty, but he was still muscular, thanks to the hours he spent in our home gym at the end of the day. The silver streaking his stylishly cut black hair made him look hot. His biker look had become refined, trendier. Now he wore Boss jeans with artful tears instead of grease stains, fitted button-down shirts under butte
ry leather jackets with tattoo-inspired graphics that rivalled those decorating his powerful arms. He was the face of Steele Choppers, the man behind the empire.
“I don’t know what will happen, Ryker. I just know I can’t go on like this. I’m not happy, and I know I’m not the only one.” The fact that he didn’t deny my claim told me he shared my pain.
“What are we going to tell the boys?”
“The truth.” I pretended to be much calmer than I was. The thought of telling my kids that their dad, who they idolized, was moving out at my insistence terrified me. I didn’t want them to turn on me, to tell me they were going to live with their dad instead of staying with me in the house they’d grown up in.
“I’m not even sure I know what the hell the truth is, Mac. So why don’t you fill me in before we tell them?”
“We’ll tell them—”
The door slammed, and our two sons, Zane and Cole, rushed in. At fourteen and fifteen, they were caught in the awkward phase between boys and young men. I feared the news we were about to impart would evoke tears, though they both claimed they were too old, too tough to cry.
They were their father’s sons. Tall, both with black hair and piercing blue eyes, filling out in a way that hinted at the muscles to come. But to me, they were still my little boys. I’d sneak a kiss when I could, ruffle their hair when I woke them up in the morning, and tell them I loved them before they went to bed at night, even though they’d often roll their eyes instead of saying it back.
“Hey,” Zane said, looking from me to his dad and back again. “What’s going on?” He met Ryker’s gaze, holding it for a beat before he asked, “What are you doing home so early, Dad? It’s not even six.”
Ryker cleared his throat before glancing at me. “Uh, your mom asked me to come home early. We had some things to talk about.”
“Cool,” Zane said. “What’s for dinner? I’m starved.”
“Homemade pizza,” I said, knowing our news would quash their appetites. “Uh, sit down for a sec, guys. Your dad and I want to talk to you about something.”
Ryker sent one more pleading look my way, silently begging me to reconsider, to give it more time, but I knew if I didn’t speak my mind now, I’d live forever in this limbo, feeling unwanted, undesirable, hurt, and confused. I needed more. I thought I deserved more.
Zane and Cole sat down next to their dad. The three people I loved more than anything stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to deliver the words I knew would tear all of our lives apart.
“So, um, your dad and I have been talking.” I rubbed my sweaty palms on the thighs of my cotton leggings. “And we’ve decided it would be best if he moved out for a while.” I said for a while to soften the blow. My gut told me once Ryker got a taste of freedom, he wouldn’t come back to me.
The boys’ jaws dropped in unison before they gaped at each other.
Zane, the oldest, was the first to find his voice. “You guys are splitting? For real?”
“We’re taking some time apart,” Ryker said gently. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be moving back home someday.”
I hated that Ryker was giving them false hope, but I understood. He was trying to ease their pain, perhaps mine as well. In spite of his faults, he’d always been a compassionate man, at least with his family.
“No,” Cole said, shaking his head. “No way. Not you guys. You’re tight.”
I understood why our sons would think that. Ryker and I didn’t argue very much. We still laughed and smiled when our eyes met. We attended all of our sons’ sporting events together, hugged when he walked in at the end of a long day, even held hands in the car. But that was the extent of the intimacy we shared. We were just friends, and I wanted more. I wanted passion. I wanted someone to find me appealing again, to look at me the way Ryker used to.
Maybe I was going through a mid-life crisis. Could be I’d wake up tomorrow and have a panic attack when I realized what I’d done, but it was a chance I had to take. If I didn’t, I’d spend the rest of my life living in the gray area, not happy but not sad. Not alive but not dead.
“Your mom and I will always be friends,” Ryker said, reaching for my hand. “We’ll always be a family. I don’t want you guys to worry about that.”
I loved Ryker for trying to make this easier on our kids, to present a united front, instead of telling them the truth, that I’d been the one to ask him to move out.
“Who will we live with?” Zane asked, crossing his arms over his midsection. “You or Mom?”
I was almost afraid Ryker would ask them who they wanted to live with. If it came down to it, I feared they may choose him over me. He was cool. He let them stay up late, drink out of the milk carton, and play video games instead of doing their homework. I was the boss, the disciplinarian, the bad guy.
“We’ll figure things out,” Ryker said, putting his arm around Zane, who was seated beside him. He grabbed the back of Cole’s head at the same time. “This is new to all of us. We’ll have to adjust. Maybe you’ll spend weekends and one or two nights during the week with me.”
It sounded like he was proposing joint custody, which I supposed would be better than losing my boys altogether. “Perhaps.”
“Man, this sucks,” Cole said, hanging his head.
Ryker closed his eyes, obviously trying to compose himself. “I know it does, buddy.”
***
Ryker
Seeing my kids in pain was almost worse than the agony I was experiencing. I couldn’t believe Mac didn’t want me anymore. I’d built my life around this woman. I’d left behind a life of petty crime and running with the guys because I wanted to make her proud.
I built a successful business from the ground up, worked eighty hours a week in the early years because I wanted to give her and my kids everything they deserved. How had this happened? How had I let it happen?
“Where will you go?” Zane asked.
“I might just crash with your Uncle Nex for a bit until I can find my own place.” I prayed it wouldn’t come to that. I wanted to believe Mac would miss me after a few days and ask me to come back home. But judging by the blank expression on her face, I may have been expecting too much.
“I have a belt ceremony next week,” Cole said. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”
Both boys were pursuing their black belts in karate. “Of course I’ll be there.” I raised an eyebrow at Mac, daring her to argue with me.
She may be able to kick me out of my own house, but I’d be damned if I let her challenge my right to be a part of my sons’ lives. Not that I thought she would. She was a good woman. The best. And I was losing her. God, I’d been such an idiot, letting this rift between us get bigger instead of making more of an effort to repair it. Now it was too late.
“You guys have homework,” Mac said. “Why don’t you head downstairs and do it before dinner? I’d like to discuss a few more things with your dad.”
Both boys gave me a tight hug and told me they loved me before they grabbed their backpacks and headed downstairs.
Mac waited until they were out of earshot before she said, “I packed a suitcase for you, Ryker. You’ll find everything you need for a couple of days in there. I thought it would be best if you picked up the rest of your things when the boys are at school.”
She wanted me to take all of my things? Damn. That couldn’t be good. “Mac, we don’t have to go through with this,” I said, gripping her hand as panic tore through me. “Just because we told the boys we’re separating doesn’t mean—”
“We have to do this,” she whispered, squeezing my hand. “I can’t go on like this. I’m not happy, and I know you aren’t either.”
I wasn’t happy. I missed the way it used to be, when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. But lately, I got the feeling my wife didn’t want me to touch her, let alone make love to her, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
“I don’t want a divorce.” I could barely spit out the word. It tasted v
ile and disgusting. “I still love you, Mackenzie. I live for you and those boys. You know that.”
Her smile was sad when she brushed her hand over the ever-present stubble on my jaw. “I know that. You’re a good man. I couldn’t have asked for a better father for my children. Maybe I’m being selfish, breaking up my family, but I can’t be a good mom to them if I’m not happy, Ryker. I’ve been sad, dissatisfied for so long. I need to figure out how to fix that. How to fix myself.”
I wanted to argue, to make her believe I would do anything to help her, but I knew it was too late. She’d already made up her mind, and I was on my way out.
“Where do we go from here?” I gripped her hands between mine, kissing them. “I don’t know how to do this. You’ve been a part of my life for so long. I can’t remember what it was like before. I don’t want to remember.”
“I know.” She eased down on her knees in front of me. “I know this will be hard for all of us. But maybe it’ll be a good thing. Maybe we’ll all be happier in the long run.”
“I won’t be.” I knew I could never be happy without her in my life.
She hugged me tight, holding me close. “You are the best man I’ve ever known, Ryker Steele. And you have given me the best things that have ever happened to me… Zane and Cole.”
“I feel the same way. I had no idea I could love so much until you made me a father.” I buried my face in her hair so she wouldn’t see my tears. I hadn’t cried in years, not since the birth of my sons. “They completed me. You completed me.” It was true. Without her, without them, something was missing, the very best part of myself.
“I hope you meant what you said to them, that we’d always be friends?”
She tried to pull away, but I couldn’t let her. “Of course. You’re my best friend, Mac. No matter what’s happened, that’s always been true.” She’d helped me through some of the darkest times of my life: when my mother died, when I almost lost the business during a recession, and when my best friend and right-hand man was killed in a motorcycle accident that made me question everything. She was the one who helped me up when I would have stayed down.