I’m keeping my wits about me.
To be fair, I’m falling apart on the inside, but externally, everything appears dandy.
I returned to Ryder’s room last night with his dinner tray before cleaning up the remaining glass, but I never uttered a word about my recent discovery.
Why would I? Ryder can’t stand me, so there’s no chance in hell he’ll be anything but furious that I’m pregnant.
Colton called again this morning, the concern clear in his voice when he learned Ryder refused yet another therapy session. “Go be his wife, Greer. He doesn’t want to listen? Make him. Force his hand. He needs you, despite what he claims, but he’s stubborn and scared.”
“He needs a lot of things, but I’m damn sure I’m not one of them.”
“Ryder is in love with you.”
A scoff flies from my lips at his words. “Trust me, he’s not.”
“Trust me, he is.”
“What makes you think that?” Better question, do I want to know?
“Ryder and I met for a drink. I’d heard through the grapevine he’d gotten married, so of course, I had to bust his balls a bit. But it didn’t matter, because the man was so excited to show you off to the world. He said he’d loved you since he was a kid.”
My mind reels, sure that Colton heard him wrong. “If that were the case, why was he with Mandi at the hotel the night before the race?”
A surprised huff escapes Colton. “Shit, I didn’t know he was, and he certainly never mentioned her being there to me. I remember seeing her at the hospital, though. Found it odd she was there, but I was too focused on everything else to speak to her. Trust me, I avoid speaking to that woman at all costs.”
“I take it you’re not a fan?”
“That’s one way to put it. I don’t know what happened with Mandi, although I suspect nothing. But I do know one thing. You two need to talk and clear the air, using full sentences. Grunting doesn’t count. I know you’re tough, Greer. Go show him who’s boss. Believe it or not, he’ll listen.”
I doubt that sentiment highly but agree to give it a shot. I’m not sure why Colton and Lorna are convinced Ryder loves me or will even consider listening to me at this point. They haven’t spent the last week living in a house where the tension pervades every square inch.
I have, and much more of this, I’ll be signing myself into the nuthouse. Hey, it would be a far more relaxing environment.
Still, I promised to pull out all the stops. My mission for the day? Get Ryder’s ass out of bed.
How hard can it be?
Balancing Ryder’s lunch tray in one arm and an ice bucket in the other, I climb the stairs, praying he’s in a decent mood. He needs to return to the world of the living, although I know he won’t go quietly. That would be far too easy.
With a sigh, I ready myself for the inevitable argument.
Please God, give me a break. Just a twenty-four-hour ceasefire.
Since I know God and his warped sense of humor lately, I’m not relying on prayers. I’ve got my armor on and sword drawn, ready for the inevitable verbal spar.
Come at me, Ryder.
I knock on his door before swinging it open. Ryder shakes his head in aggravation, tossing down the television remote. “Which part of leaving me alone don’t you understand?”
Oh well, so much for civility.
“You don’t really want me to go. Your bark is worse than your bite.” Thanks for that gem, Mrs. Gray.
“I’ve been telling you to leave for the last two weeks. You won’t listen.”
I plant my hands on my hips, certain that despite his lack of sight, he can feel the energy pervading from my petite frame. “Call the cops, then. Have me escorted off the property.”
Ryder groans, burying his face in the pillow. “Just go, Greer.”
“No can do. You need to rejoin the human race, and that starts with a shower and a change of clothes.”
“Go away,” he reiterates, his voice muffled into the pillow.
“If you don’t get out of this bed—”
“You’ll what?” he counters, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“Make you regret your decision.”
“Doubtful.”
Can’t say I didn’t warn him. Setting down the food tray in a safe location, I hoist the ice bucket over his bed, dumping the entire thing onto his body.
Now I have his full attention.
Shocked curses fly from his mouth as he scrambles to escape the cold cubes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
So glad you asked, Ryder.
“You don’t even want to know. There are so many things wrong with me these past couple of weeks.”
Ryder thrusts out his hand, his face curled into an angry snarl. “Don’t do that again.”
“Or what? You’ll ignore me? Spout more lies? Treat me with disdain? I’m getting used to it, Ryder. Do your worst.”
He pulls the shirt from his body, tossing it on the bed. “You expect me to feel sorry for you? That’s rich, Greer.”
My mobile buzzes in my pocket just as I’m about to release a verbal tirade on my husband. Pulling it out, I groan at the caller ID.
Here we go again. Normally, I take any calls away from Ryder, but I’m done tiptoeing around his wildly vacillating emotions.
“Hello, Mr. Givens. What can I do for you?”
Ryder turns his head toward me, his expression curious.
“Ms. Hammond, I hate to bother you, but we really need to sit down and talk.”
Releasing a deep sigh, I realize there’s no point in fighting it anymore. The decision has been made. “I’m giving Ryder his lunch and a shower. Can I call you in an hour to set up an appointment?”
“That’s fine. Send Ryder my best.”
Clicking off the call, I turn back toward my husband, noting the confused look crossing his features. I shake my head in disgust as I glance over at his disheveled appearance. Don’t get me wrong, the man is still gorgeous, but he needs a date with some soap and a shower head.
As soon as possible.
“Was that my lawyer?”
Oh, boy, here we go. Round two, and this time, I’m out of ice. “Yep.”
“What did he want?”
A scoff flies from my mouth. “What do you think?”
“Just ignore him.”
“Do you want your lunch before or after your shower?”
“Didn’t I just get a shower?” Ryder snorts, and I have to bite back a laugh. This situation is ridiculous, and now I’m knee-deep in the muck with him.
“I can get some more ice if you like.”
“Pass.” He fumbles to the armchair, reaching for the tray.
“Your chicken is at twelve o’clock. Pasta is at six.” Taking a step back, I watch as he spears a noodle, making it to his mouth.
Hey, it’s progress.
Now, the real question is, do I proceed with our current conversation? I’ve already poked the bear once today. Why would I continue down this path?
One good answer—because I’m damn aggravated with said bear.
“Why would you want me to ignore your lawyer?”
“It’s not important to me,” Ryder mumbles, a noodle falling back to the plate.
“Seems our annulment is really important to him,” I fire off, my sauciness at the ready. I’ve been a modest mouse for the last week. Today, I’m swinging back.
Ryder turns in my direction, his brow furrowing. “Our what? You had Mr. Givens draw up annulment papers?”
With that question, the gloves come off as I pace brisk strides around his room. “You can stop pretending, Ryder. At least now I know why you refused to wear your ring and didn’t want to announce our marriage. It makes perfect sense when you see it from a distance.”
Ryder tosses down his fork, pushing the tray aside. “What the hell are you babbling about?”
The last vestiges of restraint holding back my temper release as I storm to my husband’s side. “I saw you and Mandi in Charlotte. I flew in to surprise you, to stand by your side and cheer you on. Instead, I found you and your ex-girlfriend together in the lobby bar. You wouldn’t even pick up your phone. Then I get to the hospital and who’s there? Mandi. But I said nothing, because your health was my only concern. Besides, you seemed to want me there, and you never mentioned her. I thought I’d misread the situation until I walked into your room and saw you two kissing. Maybe this was only a public relations stunt to you, but this is my life.” I swipe at the tears rolling down my cheeks, the emotional dam busted all to hell.
The mask of anger slides from Ryder’s face. “Shit. Gigi, why didn’t you tell me what you saw?”
“Tell you what? That you hurt me? Broke me? You turned my life upside down and spit on my dreams, but I’m still here. Unlike your precious Mandi.”
Ryder opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. I’ve been silent for days. Time to let it all hang out.
Go big or go home.
With a deep breath, I open my heart to the man, even if I’m certain he’ll destroy it. “I want you, Ryder—for the good days, the bad days, and the in-between days. When I spoke those vows in Barbados, I meant them. Even if you didn’t. You’re my perfect in an imperfect world. The man who made me believe in all the trappings of love. So even if you don’t feel the same way, it doesn’t detract from my feelings. My love has the power to heal you, and that’s what I plan on doing. Once you’re better, you can go back to hating me. Until then, can’t we work together? We’re on the same team.”
“Hate you? Are you crazy?” Ryder shakes his head as if to clear it. “I’ve loved you from the second I laid eyes on you. You’re more than a perfect woman. You’re perfection itself.”
My knees threaten to give out from his words, but I have to slog through all the anger and distrust. Ryder deserves it. We both do.
“If I’m so perfect, why did you push me away?”
Ryder’s body tenses, and I can see him rebuilding that emotional wall. “You know the reason.”
“I have no idea, actually. You claim I have this ulterior motive, but it was me whose heart shattered seeing you with Mandi. She may be beautiful, but she doesn’t deserve you or your love. Instead of being here to help you, she hopped on an international flight.”
Ryder scoots forward in his chair, and for the first time, I see he’s doing his best to traverse the muck of miscommunication with me. “I don’t want Mandi.”
“Sure you don’t.” Hello sarcasm, good of you to show up.
“All I’ve ever wanted is you. Do you think I would mess that up? I married you, Gigi. I meant those vows as much as you did.”
My heart leaps at his admission, but my head is far warier. The eyes will reveal what the lips can conceal. “Then why did you kiss her? Why were you holding her hands? Why is your lawyer barraging me with phone calls?”
The questions fly from my lips with the speed of a bullet train, all the anger and frustration from the last week finally catching up to me.
“She kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t want it. That night at the hotel, she confronted me about our marriage. She was so upset, or so she claimed, crying and inconsolable. I held her hands in a desperate bid to make her understand. As for my lawyer? Give me the phone and I’ll tell Mr. Givens to fuck off personally.”
“Why is he calling? The man is worse than a bill collector.”
Ryder chuckles, a foreign but entirely welcome sound to my ears. “He’s pissed I didn’t have you sign a prenup. I already told him to dead the issue, but he never was very good at listening. Although, I should call him. Tell him about the horrible abuse I’m suffering at your hands in the form of ice baths.”
“You’re out of bed, aren’t you? I consider it a win.”
“You would.” His words are harsh, but the faint glimpse of a smile colors his face.
We’re moving in the right direction, but I still have a boatload of unanswered questions. Time for Ryder to spill the beans.
“You don’t want an annulment?”
“Greer, I told you on the phone that we are never getting divorced.”
“You make no sense. You won’t divorce me, but you’ve been hateful toward me. Tell me why.” The words barely make it past my throat, the emotions clogging my airway, and I’m wholly uncertain I want to hear his answer.
“You know—”
“Don’t you dare tell me I know the reason,” I bellow, startling the man with the volume of my voice. I rarely yell, unless screams of passion count. Those, Ryder is all too familiar with.
Ryder sighs, running a hand over his unkempt beard. “I figured you were only here out of obligation. That you felt bad because of Greg’s involvement and in typical Greer fashion, were trying to make it better.” A resigned sigh echoes from his chest. “You were so distant after the accident. You barely touched me, and I needed that affection. I needed you. I thought you didn’t want me anymore. Sucks, but I get it. I hate it, but I get it.”
That’s it. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I kneel in front of him, grasping his hands. “You get nothing. Your injury sucks. Your attitude these past weeks really sucks. Our miscommunication sucks. But despite everything, I love you even more than I did. So deal with it.”
Ryder’s hand tangles in my hair, pulling me close. “Deal with this.”
He’s aiming for my lips, but our noses bump and I fall back, laughing.
Thank God, so is Ryder. “Sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his nose. “Maybe we try that again?”
“Absolutely, but first, you are taking a shower. A real, honest to God shower. Then, I expect hours of make-up kisses from you.”
I don’t give him an opportunity to argue as I lead him to the bathroom.
“I’m pretty damn ripe,” Ryder concedes, taking a whiff under his arm as we wait for the shower to heat.
“To say the least. Promise me I can burn these clothes, along with your sheets.”
Guiding him under the spray, Ryder releases a low groan as he leans against the tile. I’m by his side in a flash, my clothes in a heap outside the shower door. I can coach him through the shower and offer him some privacy, but he’s been alone in this dark hell for weeks. Time for him to share the burden.
I grab the sponge and soap, working across his skin with gentle strokes as he collapses on the built-in shower bench. Have to hand it to the architect, this bathroom is a thing of beauty with its three shower heads and Mediterranean-style tile. It’s also half the size of my last apartment, but that’s hardly a surprise.
Returning my gaze to the man in front of me, I offer up thanks to another architect, because when God designed Ryder Gray, he went all out. The man is the perfect male specimen.
With or without sight.
“Admit it, you feel better.”
“Being near you feels better. It’s been hell these last weeks without you, Gigi.” His voice is thick with emotion, the fear and loneliness he hid behind the stern facade bubbling to the surface.
“I was right here. As close as you’d let me.” Standing in between his legs, I work the shampoo across his scalp, earning a moan of approval.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ryder murmurs, but he makes no move to stop me.
“I’m your wife and I want to do it. I missed touching you. These past few weeks have been pretty damn lonely.”
“Tell me about it. What am I going to do?”
“Stop being mean to me, for a start.” My fingers work the muscles of his neck, trying to loosen the tension he’s been carrying since the accident upended his world.
“It broke me even more than not being able to see,” Ryder whispers, his voice laced with pain. “The idea that you didn’t want me anymore.”
“Let’s promise to stop making assumptions about each other since we’ve proven we’re terrible at it. I really suck at disliking you, Ryder, but I’m pretty damn good at loving you.”
“You’re amazing at loving me, even when I don’t deserve it. Thank you for the last week. I didn’t want you to go.”
“Could have fooled me,” I giggle, stealing a kiss from his full lips before returning to the task at hand.
But Ryder has other ideas as his hands drift up my back, his lips dusting kisses across my abdomen. When his tongue flicks against my breast, swirling around my nipple, I release a sated groan.
“You keep making those sexy sounds and I’m going to take you right here in the shower.”
“Promise?”
His teeth nibble along my tender skin before his head collapses against my stomach, his grip tightening around my body. “I love you, Gigi. Please don’t leave me.”
Straddling him, I tip his chin up, kissing away his doubts. “If I haven’t left by now, you’ll have to pry me from your side with a crowbar.”
Cupping my face, Ryder claims my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine in a provocative dance. But it isn’t hurried or rushed. He takes his time, exploring every inch and reclaiming what he thought he lost.
We pull back, our foreheads touching, our hearts once again one.
“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. The nightmares—”
“No nightmares tonight. I’ll be right by your side.”
After washing away the physical and emotional remnants of the last week, we settle in the guest room, our exhaustion evident as we collapse on the bed.
Ryder pulls me tight to his side, his arms wrapped around me like a vise, his lips pressed against my hair.
For the first time since the accident stole his vision, he sleeps without incident. Every time the nightmares threaten, I curl closer to him, whispering words of love until he quiets.
Then, when he’s settled, I allow myself the same luxury, my eyes drifting closed as the blackness takes hold.
It’s dark outside when I blink my eyes open, pressing a kiss to Ryder’s chest as I glance at the bedside clock.
It’s after eight. No wonder my stomach is rumbling.
With a sigh, I run a hand over my abdomen, wondering how to tell Ryder the news. Wondering when to tell him the news.
Ryder stirs next to me, gliding his hand along my spine. “You’re really here.”
Snuggling against him, I tease his lips with my tongue, unable to keep the smile from my face. Despite everything, at least I’m back in his arms again.
I need to celebrate that fact.
My husband strokes his hands along my arms, his face unreadable.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” The nurse in me worries about his condition. After all, the man has a head injury and anything is possible, even weeks after the crash.
“Will you answer me honestly? Not tell me what I want to hear?”
“Don’t I always? I am the one who dumped a bucket of ice over you a few hours ago. Trust me, I always speak the truth.”
Ryder chuckles, tightening his grip. “Please don’t do that again.”
“No promises. What’s on your mind?” Part of me wonders if he might ask about the pregnancy, although there’s no way he could know. Until this afternoon, we barely spoke.
“Are you sure you’re not staying out of pity?” There’s no anger in his voice, just a hint of resignation regarding his current limitations.
So, to counteract that emotion, I toss sarcasm into the mix. Propping my chin on his chest, I skew up my mouth in a pout. “Are you sure you’re not still in love with Mandi?”
A harsh laugh breaks from Ryder’s mouth. “If you ask that question one more time—”
“Ditto.”
The energy changes then, the last of the walls we erected crumbling away. “I’ve only ever loved one woman. There’s you, Gigi, and then there’s everybody else.”
“You and those incredible one-liners, they get me every time. How in the world did little old me win Ryder Gray’s heart?”
“You’re seriously lucky?”
I snort out a laugh, giving his chest a light slap. “There’s the egomaniac I know and love. I knew he was in there somewhere.”
“Now, if I can only get my sight back…”
We need to stay positive. As a nurse practitioner, I know faith is half the battle. “What’s the first thing you’ll do when you regain your sight?”
“Stare at you.”
“Be serious.”
“Okay, fine. Stare at you while I’m balls deep inside you.”
“Much better. But, do we have to wait?”
“I’m sure you can convince me.” His hands slide along my sides, under the edge of my silk tank. “Tell me more.”
“Uh uh uh. I want you to tell me. What do you want me to do?” I slip off his shirt, my fingers gliding along Ryder’s firm chest, his muscles flexing under my palm.
“I wish I could see you.” The pain and fear have etched lines into his visage. But I won’t give them room to grow.
Not anymore.
“You don’t need to see me. Just feel me. Feel me touch you.” I trail kisses down the planes of his abdomen, smiling when his breath hitches. His entire body clenches in anticipation when I deliver a series of gentle nips along his hip. “Tell me what you want, Ryder. You’ll know I’ll give you anything.”
“I want your gorgeous lips around my cock.”
Ryder arches his hips, groaning as I wrap my fist around his length, stroking him. When I circle my tongue around the tip of his cock, he bucks against me, but I’m not caving to his whims. Not yet. I want to tease him. Push his limits until he’s desperate.
I spend the next few minutes driving him out of his mind, my tongue gliding along his shaft, until his hands knot in my hair, holding me in place. “Suck me.”
With a smile, I take him deep, earning a growl of pleasure as my mouth works him over. His fingers tighten their grip as his hips buck against me, both of us losing ourselves to the moment as I coax him closer to the edge.
“I need inside you. Now.” Pulling me up the length of his body, his fingers shove my g-string aside as he sinks inside me, a hum of satisfaction escaping us both. Ryder wraps his hands around my hips, bottoming out as he grinds against me. “Ride me, Gigi.”
I circle my hips slowly around his cock, whimpering as the feelings threaten to explode. He’s so deep inside me, his fingers bruising my hips as they hold me flush against him. “I want to feel you come, Ryder.”
“Ladies first.” Ryder flips me over, his thrusts strong and hard. “You’re amazing.”
“Tell me how I feel.”
He grunts, teetering on the brink of control. “You’re so wet. So tight.”
“What else?”
“The way you smell. It drives me mad. One whiff and all I can think about is being inside you. Taking you. Claiming you. Showing you who you belong to.”
Scratching my nails down his chest, I squeeze around him, earning another low moan. Twining my hand in his, I press my wedding band against his fingers. “I never took it off. I know who I belong to.”
That realization is enough to push my man over the edge, a shout breaking from his lips as he pours himself into me. His broad body collapses onto the mattress as our breathing returns to normal.
“Better?” I tease, tracing my fingers through his beard.
“So much better,” he concurs, as sleep catches hold again.
Lorna is thrilled Ryder and I have patched up our marriage, but her happiness is tempered by the fact that her son is still only able to see shadows, and it’s nearly six weeks since the crash.
The past several weeks have been a rollercoaster of emotions, with the highs of our playful banter dulled by the knowledge that Ryder may never regain his sight. The sadness cutting through his features eats at my soul.
The man was on top of the world. Now, we have to figure out how to get him back there again.
The doctor has started injections in a valiant effort to relieve the pressure, and Ryder is a trooper for each visit. My role never changes. I’m his constant companion and cheerleader, reassuring him that together we can conquer the world.
I think he’s finally starting to believe me, even if he’s brokenhearted by his disability.
I’m also having an increasingly tough time hiding my pregnancy, considering how often I lose my breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be skinnier than I was before I became pregnant.
There are moments I’m positive Ryder knows about the pregnancy, but he never asks, and I’m still garnering the courage to tell him. He’s been through so much, but I’m hopeful the news of our baby will bring some much needed joy to his world.
Ryder has made great strides toward his independence. It doesn’t hurt that he’s now allowing the therapists through the door, but we also moved downstairs, and being on the main level gives him access to the kitchen and pool area. Suffice it to say that his neighbors are now well aware of our voracious sexual appetites.
Not that it ever stops us.
I plop down onto the outdoor lounger, smiling when Ryder drops his head into my lap.
My husband snuggles closer, pressing a kiss to my stomach. “You make all this worth it, Gigi. This whole crazy ride. Losing my sight. My career. I’d have given up if it weren’t for you.”
“I wasn’t about to let you.”
“I have to face facts, though. This might be it for me. As good as it gets. Do you really want a blind guy long-term?”
“No, I don’t want some random blind guy. I want you.” Leaning over, I steal a kiss, earning a small smile. “But you will regain your sight. Do you think you’ll race again?”
My question is two-fold. I need him to stay positive and I’m also desperate to know his plans when—not if—he regains his vision.
“Screw racing. I don’t care if I ever race again. Would you be okay being married to a former F1 racer?”
“As long as he’s you. I just want you safe and happy, Ryder. That’s all that matters.” What I don’t mention is the relief flooding my body at his decision to leave the world of racing. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve stared at the trophies lining his shelves, the photos of his many podium finishes, and his talent is legendary. I’ll forever be proud of him and what he accomplished in thirty years.
I know his fans want him back. He’s a hero in the world of F1 racing, but I see his future through a different lens.
I almost lost him.
There’s no way I could go through that agony and uncertainty again.
And again.
“All that matters is me being able to see something. Anything. Your beautiful face. Our baby’s smile.”
I hold my breath at his words, certain he can feel my heart racing. This wasn’t the way I planned to break the news, but it’s a good segue. “Our baby?”
“Not that there will be any children now. Not with my condition.”
The bottom of my world falls out with his words. “You’ve always wanted kids, Ryder. I think we’d have beautiful children.”
A harsh bark of laughter sounds from his chest. “Kids I can’t see. I couldn’t do that to them, or to you. It’s bad enough you’re saddled with me, but a child, too? That’s a dream for another lifetime.” He squeezes my arm, his beautiful blue eyes staring off into space. “Looks like it’s just you and me for the long haul.”
Willing the tears away, I take slow and measured breaths. It’s easy to understand his stance—his world has been turned upside down and there might not be an easy fix. Hell, there might not be any fix for his vision. I get it. He doesn’t want to be a burden, and that’s all he feels like since the accident.
How do you tell someone they’re the light in your darkness when their world is literally without light?
“I hope you’ll change your mind one day, because I want children with you.”
“I love kids, Gigi, but that’s one path we can’t traverse. I need you to understand.”
My answer is most definitely no, but I let the situation lie. Ryder is already on edge about his future, the trepidation coursing through him like blood in his veins. Pulsing with its own life.
Pulsing like the life in my belly.
The life he doesn’t want.
The child he no longer desires.
What will happen when he learns the truth? Will he change his mind or push me away again?
