“What are you staring at?” Ryder’s gaze remains on Aiden, but she’s questioning me.
I grin. “I’m not staring.” I’m a shit liar.
She knows it, and I don’t care.
She tugs the sleeves of my sweatshirt over her hands. “Yes, you are. Stop it,” she orders quietly.
“How about eggs?” I ask while Aiden catches his breath.
She nods. “I can make them.”
“You?” I tease.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. You make them.” She holds out her arms, and Aiden leans toward her.
I grab a pan and eggs from the refrigerator while Ryder sits at the table with Aiden on her lap. Liv climbs off Shane and across chairs to sit next to her.
“Do you want to see my Barbies? I have lots of them, but Aiden can’t play with them because some of the pieces are too small and he could choke. They’re in my room.”
I crack an egg and glance at Ryder. Her eyes meet mine for only a second as Liv begins to name and describe every Barbie she has in great detail.
“It’s good to have you home, man,” Shane says, patting me on the shoulder as he passes.
It’s really good to be home.
Chapter 33
RYDER
It’s day two. I lie staring at the ceiling, listening to the calming sound of Cole’s long inhale, pause, long exhale, and wondering what today will be like.
Yesterday was a whirlwind after the awkward introduction. We spent the day playing games. I should have guessed it, but this family is competitive. I’ve never seen so many arguments and fights over plastic pieces and cardboard. But they always ended in a wrestling match and rolling fits of laughter.
It all melted into an afternoon and evening of football, basketball, chalk, and skateboards.
I have a family, but I’ve never experienced this. The type of homegrown love and affection these people exude. The kind that comes from loving one another from the beginning. It’s sharing a history and a past that no one else could ever fully understand.
It rubbed against scar tissue, but strangely, also soothed the ache of each tender spot. Witnessing this family bond and the love that comes with it is proof that it really does exist.
The blankets on the floor beside me rustle.
Cole is in his place with his people. He’s a smiler, but I’ve never seen him laugh and smile like this, so completely relaxed. Watching him with the kids and sitting slumped on the couch with a tiny baby on his chest has taken my insides and squished them all to hell.
It’s poking and prodding each dark place where nothing but ash and soot remain. But Cole, in all his confidently patient andgentle ways, is brushing it aside where things are sprouting forth and coming alive. And it hurts. It’s a deep burning ache, but also something light and fluttery that steals my breath.
Whatever it is, I need it all to settle down, but no matter how many times I try to shove it away, soon enough, it floats right back up.
Tracker needs to uncover something quickly so we can go home and have life return to normal. Although I’m not sure what normal even is anymore.
I roll onto my side, tucking the covers under my chin.
Just feel one thing at a time. Be patient. Let myself explore.
I pull the covers over my face and inhale long and slow.
My phone buzzes. Then again. A minute later, it vibrates twice more.
“Who’s blowing up your phone?” Cole’s sleepy voice comes from down below.
