Ryker (Steele Brothers #1) Page 5

  This big, tough biker, tattoos decorating his massive biceps, who’d been in and out of jail as a youth and had been in more barroom brawls than either of us could count, had cried at the sight of his newborn son. He’d rested his forehead against Zane’s, and the tears fell on our tiny son’s perfect little face. Their blue eyes locked while Ryker told Zane how much he loved him and how long he’d been waiting to meet him.

  I fell in love with him all over again that day.

  “Hey,” he said, brushing away my tears. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “You didn’t,” I said, sniffling. “I was just thinking about the day Zane was born and the way you’d reacted.”

  He sat back, swiping a hand over his face. His voice was husky, filled with emotion when he said, “People talk about how a baby changes you, but you have no idea until it happens. I took one look at him, and I knew my life would never be the same.” He kissed my hand, his eyes capturing mine. “And it hasn’t been, Mac. Those kids you gave me, they changed me in the best possible way. I wanted to be a better man because of them. They made me want to work hard, to make something of myself, so they could be proud of me.”

  “They are proud of you,” I assured him.

  They were always bragging to their friends about how cool their dad was. He was the one who’d take a big group of them to a ball game or toss the football with them in the backyard. He was the one they talked to about girls because they knew Ryker had seen it and done it all and wouldn’t judge them or reprimand them for making mistakes.

  “I wanted to be the kind of dad I always wanted to have.”

  Ryker had grown up in an abusive home with a father who couldn’t hold a steady job and took his unemployment out on Ryker and his five younger brothers. His father drank too much, cheated on his wife, and had his whole family walking on eggshells most of the time. They’d been homeless more than once, stayed with family and friends, lived in cars, and in shelters. That’s why he’d gravitated toward motorcycle gangs as a teen, because he was desperate to belong somewhere, to someone.

  “I wanted my kids to have a stable home, go to a nice school, and have all the things their friends had.” He stared out the window, though it was too dark to see anything. “I didn’t want them to be embarrassed of me.”

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, to tell him he could never embarrass our kids, but I couldn’t speak. I was afraid it would come out as pity, and I knew Ryker hated to be pitied.

  “When we moved into that swanky neighborhood, I’d see all the other guys going to work in their shiny sedans, wearing expensive suits, briefcase in hand. And I felt like I didn’t belong. They’d all gone to these private schools, graduated with their fancy degrees, and I barely made it out of high school.”

  I let him talk without trying to interrupt because he’d never said these things to me before. I had no idea he’d felt inferior while trying to give us the life he felt we deserved.

  “I didn’t want Zane and Cole to compare me to them and feel like they’d somehow got the short end of the stick.”

  “How could you think that?” I whispered, running my hand over his hair the way I’d done a thousand times before when I was trying to comfort him or just let him know I cared. “Those boys idolize you, Ryker. They always have.”

  He gave me that half-smile that always made my stomach flip-flop. “They idolize me because I gave them reason to. I set a goal and worked my ass off to achieve it because those kids deserved a father they could look up to. Not someone who would make them feel ashamed of where they’d come from. I was determined to give them that. I didn’t think about the cost.”

  I hesitated before skimming my hand over his face. “I’ve always admired your ambition. If you think that was the reason our marriage fell apart, it wasn’t.”

  “I hope not.” He grabbed my hand, trailing it down his chest until it rested over his heart. “I haven’t figured out how to fix this yet, Mac. But I will. I swear to you, I will.”

  Chapter Four

  Ryker

  It was three in the morning. We’d been talking for hours, but I hadn’t tried to touch her again. I knew if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop, and I wasn’t stupid enough to believe sex could solve our problems. We needed to dig deeper, get to know each other all over again. Say things we’d been too afraid to say before.

  “You should just crash here tonight,” I said when Mac tried to hide a yawn behind her hand. “I’ve got four bedrooms.”

  “I wouldn’t want to give the boys the wrong idea if they woke up in the morning and found me here.”

  I knew she was right. Our kids wanted us back together; they’d made no secret of that, and it wasn’t fair to give them hope until we knew for sure we were back on the right track. “So we’ll tell them you got here late and I invited you to stay in the guest room.”

  Instead of responding to the invite, she said, “That key thing, did you put them up to that just to get me over here?”

  I chuckled. “No, I didn’t know anything about it. They came up with that all on their own.”

  “And they just happened to be in bed when I got here?” She smiled. “At home, it takes forever to get them to turn the lights out.”

  It usually did at my place too. They were always up late playing video games, watching TV, or talking to friends on the phone, but tonight they’d yelled through the bathroom door while I was in the shower to let me know they were tired and planned to hit the sack early. Oh, and their mom was stopping by to drop the house key off on her way home.

  They wouldn’t get an A for subtlety, but I had to thank them for giving us this time together. It had been a long time since I’d felt so close to Mac.

  “You can’t blame them for wanting their parents back together. Splitting their time between us has gotta be rough on them.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I hate putting them through this.”

  “Hey,” I said, nudging her shoulder with mine. “You have nothing to be sorry for, you know. You have a right to be happy, and if I wasn’t making you happy anymore, you did the right thing, speaking up about it.”

  “I can’t help but feel selfish,” she said, resting her head against my shoulder. “I’m putting my needs above what’s best for my kids. What kind of mother does that?”

  I hated to hear her berate herself, especially since Zane and Cole couldn’t have asked for a more committed mom. She attended every sporting event, volunteered at their school, served on the P.T.A., baked cookies for bake sales, chaperoned their dances, and had even coached some of their teams when they were younger.

  “You’re an amazing mom,” I said, my voice harsh. “And don’t ever let me hear you question that again.”

  “Have they said anything to you about me?” she asked. “Do they hate me for kicking you out?”

  “No. Why? Have they been giving you a hard time about it? If they have—”

  “No.” She wrapped her hand around my arm, as though she craved the closeness as much as I did. “We just haven’t been as close. They don’t seem to want to talk to me anymore, and I know that’s because they blame me for breaking up our family. How could they not, right? I was the one who asked you to move out.”

  As much as I wanted to move back home, I didn’t want her to take me back for the kids’ sake. I wanted her to want me back, in her bed, as her husband and best friend.

  “We’re not the first couple to need a breather. The kids will understand that when they get a little older.”

  “You really believe that’s all this is?” she asked, looking up at me. “A breather?”

  “Don’t you?”

  I couldn’t deny there were days when my hope waned. When weeks turned into months, I’d begun to wonder whether my wife would ever ask me to come back home, but I believed we’d made real progress tonight, and I was determined to build on that.

  “It hasn’t been easy without you,” she admitted. �
�There were so many times, late at night, when I couldn’t sleep and I wished you were there.”

  “You could have called, any time, day or night. You know that.”

  “I know.” She nudged my foot with hers. “So, your brothers must hate me, huh?”

  My younger brothers loved Mackenzie. When they heard she’d kicked me out, they asked what I’d done to deserve it. “You know they could never hate you. They blame me.”

  “That’s not fair, Ryker. It takes two people to make a marriage work and two people to let it fall apart. I’m as responsible for the breakdown of our marriage as you are.”

  “Does it really matter who’s responsible?” I asked, glancing at her. She looked so beautiful I just wanted to press her back into the cushions and kiss her until she forgot all the reasons she’d asked me to leave. “The only thing that matters is that we fix this, Mac.”

  “But how do we do that?” she asked. “Therapy?”

  I hated the idea of spilling my guts to a stranger, but I would do anything to save my marriage. “If you think it’ll help, I’m game.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms as she sat upright. “Is it too late to fix it? Have we drifted too far apart?”

  “It’s only too late if you’ve stopped loving me.” I only wanted her back if she could say she loved me as much now as she did the day we got married.

  “When I asked you to leave, I can honestly say I wasn’t sure how I felt. But now? I don’t know that I’ll ever stop loving you, Ryker.”

  I exhaled slowly, saying a silent prayer of thanks that we weren’t too lost to find our way back.

  “You’ll always have a piece of my heart.”

  I sensed some hesitancy in her voice, making my stomach twist painfully in anticipation of what she was going to say next. “But…?”

  “But I can’t go back to the way things were. Ever. I hate how disconnected we were in the end. It was like sharing a bed with a stranger instead of my best friend. It wasn’t just the lack of intimacy that got to me, it was the distance. It felt there was a gulf between us that grew wider every day.”

  I wish I could claim ignorance, but I’d felt it too. I just wasn’t brave enough to acknowledge it. I feared if we admitted it, we would have to confess the reasons behind it. My biggest fear was that she would tell me she just didn’t love me anymore. I knew I could never come back from something like that. Losing her was bad enough. Losing her love would destroy me.

  “So we work on rebuilding,” I said, thinking it was the most logical option.

  “How do we do that?”

  “We get to know each other all over again.”

  She smiled. “You know me better than anyone, Ryker.”

  “I want to get to know the new you.” I meant it. I wanted to know everything about her new life, so I could figure out how to fit into it. “I know you’re not the same woman you were when I left. It’s obvious just by looking at you. It’s like you’re alive again, and I love seeing you this way.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly, touching my arm. “That means a lot.”

  “You mean a lot to me, Mac. That’s why I’m willing to start all over again. I’m in no hurry for us to get back together.” Though every night without her seemed longer than the last. “I’m more interested in fixing what was wrong and figuring out what works.”

  She opened and closed her mouth before asking, “You really think we can do that, start all over again?”

  “We could try.” I knew it would work. It had to. “If you’re willing.”

  “What would that entail?”

  “Spending time together, just the two of us, talking on the phone, going out for dinner once in a while, maybe to a movie. If things progress the way I hope they will, maybe away for the weekend. Up to the cottage?” We used to love spending time there during summer vacations, but I hadn’t been there since Mac and I split, and the boys told me she hadn’t taken them either.

  She laughed. “It sounds like you’re asking me to date you.”

  “I guess I am.”

  She sat up straight, turning to face me. “You’re serious about this?”

  “Why not?” I asked, shrugging. “What better way to figure out whether we’re still compatible?” Truth be told, I was looking forward to wining and dining my gorgeous wife again.

  “If we decide to do this,” she said, biting her lip, “we should set some ground rules.”

  “Agreed.” I knew the first one I wanted to propose. “Neither one of us dates anyone else. If we really want this to work, we both have to be fully committed.”

  “An exclusive relationship, hmm?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I think I can agree to that. How about sex?”

  Just hearing her say that word stirred me up. “Let’s play that by ear. If we want to, we will, but not until we’re both ready.”

  “Okay.”

  “I have one more.” I reached for her hand. “You can say no if you want to…” I was almost afraid to ask, given the incredible progress we’d already made tonight. “But I would really love to see those rings back on your finger. We’re still married, and I want…” I hated sounding jealous and petty, but if we were going to rebuild our relationship on a foundation of honesty and trust, I had to tell her the truth. “I want other men to know you’re not available.”

  Her eyes drifted to my wedding band, and she nodded. “That seems fair.”

  “What do you want to tell the boys?” I was excited about being back on the right track with my wife, and I didn’t want to overstep and piss her off. “They’ll obviously know that we’re going out together and talking more.”

  “Why don’t we wait a while before we say anything, until we’re sure that we’re getting back together?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Still, I could hardly wait to see the looks on their faces when they found out there was a good chance of reuniting their family.

  “Do we have any rules about kissing?” Her cheeks colored slightly as her gaze roved over my bare chest. “Because I’m not gonna lie, kissing you was one of my absolute favorite things, and I’ve missed it. A lot.”

  In one forward motion, she was in my arms. She wound her arms around me, her hands drifting up my spine. Her gentle touch sent a jolt through my entire body, reminding me it had never felt like this with anyone else. I took my time, my tongue tracing the soft fullness of her lips before exploring further.

  She moaned, lacing her hands through my hair, intent on drawing me closer as she reclined on the cushions. “Ah, Ryker.”

  I moved my mouth with hers in perfect tandem, giving, taking, devouring her softness. The kiss quickly escalated to hungry and demanding. I didn’t even realize I’d reached for the zipper of her dress until I felt her hand curl around my wrist to stop me.

  I tore my lips from hers, breathing heavily, my heart pounding as I buried my face in her neck. “Sorry, baby. It’s just been so long, and you taste so good. You feel so good.” My hands were roving her body now, cupping her breast, even as my mind was screaming at me to slow down before I ruined everything.

  “I know.” She curled her legs around mine. “But, Ryk, we have to stop now,” she said, panting. “It’s too soon. Sex will only complicate things now.”

  “I know.” I forced my hand lower, needing to touch her but not so intimately. “You’re right.” My lips were still rubbing against her neck. I couldn’t tear myself away no matter how hard I tried. God, touching her, kissing her, had been a bad idea. I didn’t want to stop now. My body was telling me this felt right. She was my wife; I belonged inside her, but my conscience reminded me I had to earn that privilege back because I’d taken it for granted for so many years.

  “I want you,” she whispered in my ear. “You have to know how much I want you.”

  I shuddered, just imagining what it would feel like to sink inside her after so many months without her. “You’ll have me,” I vowed, “when the time is right.” We held eac
h other close, reminding me how much I missed just being held by her. It made me feel loved, as though I belonged to somebody.

  I forced myself to break free, to put some much needed distance between us. “We should go to bed,” I whispered in her ear. “Because I don’t know how much longer I can lie here with you without making love to you.”

  “You’re right,” she said, smiling against my neck. “Show me to my room.”

  I helped her up and held her hand as we walked quietly down the hall toward the bedroom. I stopped at the door to my room. “Just let me grab you something to wear to bed.” She stood in the doorway, watching me rifle through the drawers until I came up with a black T-shirt that bore my company logo with Steele Custom Choppers in fancy script.

  “Those drawers are a mess,” she said, grinning. “Maybe I should organize them for you tomorrow.”

  I handed her the shirt before cupping her face in my palm. “Did I ever thank you for taking such good care of me?”

  She seemed taken aback by the compliment but smiled. “It was my pleasure. I loved taking care of you.”

  She was not only an amazing cook, but the house was always immaculate, right down to the fresh flowers on the kitchen table every week and fruit piled high in a crystal bowl on the island. I’d taken those little things for granted, including the neatly folded clothes in the drawers, dry cleaning hanging in my closet, and a new bottle of shaving cream tucked in the bathroom cabinet every time she noticed I was running low. It was all the little things I’d never said thank you for throughout the years that made her think I didn’t notice or appreciate her anymore, that made her think I could live without her.

  “I miss everything about our life together, Mac. Everything.”

  She smiled as she reached up on her toes to kiss me. “You’re not the only one. I miss it too.”

  I held her tight, wishing I didn’t have to sleep alone tonight. It would be torture, knowing she was just down the hall and I couldn’t go to her. But I supposed it was better than knowing she was across town, sleeping in the bed we used to share.