A Forever Kind of Family (12 page)

She gave it willingly. She kissed him back until her heart was pounding and her head was spinning and her body was pressing against his, silently begging for more. A lot more.

But once again, he drew back, exhaling an unsteady breath as he leaned his forehead against hers.

“I wanted you the first time I saw you,” he told her. “The night we met at Topaz.”

She remembered that night, of course, and her own unexpected and intense reaction to meeting her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend for the first time. She’d worried that her friend was playing matchmaker. Then she’d seen Ryan sitting beside Darren and all of her misgivings had dissipated. Because there was no way a guy who looked like that needed to be set up with anyone. And if by chance she was wrong and it was a setup, well, how could she object to being set up with a guy who looked like that?

It was an undeniably shallow reaction, but she’d been twenty-one years old and not particularly interested in depth. She had, however, been interested in ambition, and the gorgeous, sexy college student had been too laid-back. More interested in heli-skiing and rock climbing and diving than building a career.

He’d said nothing to defend himself or his character. In fact, he’d told her that he had no interest in a woman who was so tightly wound up she practically vibrated—no matter how sexy she was. This matter-of-fact acknowledgment of his attraction had taken her aback.

And aroused her. Not that she’d been willing to admit the fact—and definitely not to
him
. But the chemistry between them had simmered from that first night and for the next two and a half years—until it finally boiled over the night of the wedding.

“I still want you,” he said now. “But the next move is yours.”

* * *

The next move is yours.

She wasn’t sure if his words were intended as a reprieve or a challenge, but she had other worries—such as Oliver starting day care on Tuesday.

Melissa had taken a leave of absence from her job a few weeks before Oliver was born and, at the time of the accident that took her life, had not yet decided if and when she would go back to work. For the whole of his life to that point, she’d been her son’s primary caregiver, so day care would be a big change for him.

Harper agreed with Ryan that the little boy should be eased into the new environment. So while Oliver would be going to day care, it would be only part-time in the beginning. A few hours a day three days a week.

Harper had done her research, arguing that children who went to day care had better socialization skills and fewer illnesses when they started school. Ryan wasn’t convinced. In the end, it was a simple logistical issue—he couldn’t effectively do his job if he wasn’t in the office on a more regular basis.

They’d spent a lot of time discussing the pros and the cons, visiting facilities and meeting the caregivers. When they finally made their decision, she was confident it was the right one. But the night before Oliver’s first day, she found herself wondering if she’d pushed for it to happen too soon, and she continued to hold on to him long after he’d fallen asleep in her arms.

Around nine o’clock Ryan came upstairs. “What’s the matter?”

She got up from the rocking chair and finally put the baby in his crib. “I’m having second thoughts about Oliver starting day care tomorrow,” she admitted.

To his credit, he didn’t say “I told you so.”

To her surprise, he said, “He’s going to be fine.”

She nodded, because after advocating in favor of putting him in day care for weeks, she could hardly argue against it now.

“It’s only a few hours,” he reminded her. “I’m going to drop him off at eight thirty and pick him up at eleven thirty.”

They’d agreed that they would ease the little boy into the new routine, starting with three hours a day three days a week. When he was accustomed to that and actually looking forward to going—which she hoped would happen—they would add an hour at a time until he was going full days three days a week.

The morning that Ryan was scheduled to take Oliver to the Wee Watch Childcare Center, she found herself constantly glancing at her watch. At seven o’clock, she wondered if they were awake. At seven thirty, she considered calling to make sure they were up. At seven forty-five, she speculated about what Ryan was feeding the little boy for breakfast. At eight o’clock, she knew they would be getting ready to leave the house. By nine thirty, Diya had threatened to take her watch to ensure that she focused on
Coffee Time
.

When the show was finished, she raced through the usual wrap-up to get home to hear about Oliver’s first day at Wee Watch.

He was playing with his blocks when she walked in the door, but he abandoned them to rush over and give her a big hug. She hugged him back, relieved to see that he’d survived his first day apparently unscathed.

“You’re home early,” Ryan noted.

“A little,” she said, unwilling to admit that she’d rushed for any particular reason. “How was Oliver when you took him to day care today?”

“Good.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Really? No clinging? No crying?”

“Just a little, but the childcare worker promised a lollipop if I’d let go.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Okay, Oliver cried, too,” Ryan admitted. “Huge sobs and fat tears, and if I didn’t have that meeting, I’m not sure I would have been able to walk away.”

“How was he when you went back to pick him up?”

“Fine. He was sitting in one of those little chairs at a round table eating cubes of cheese and raisins, and when I told him it was time to go, he didn’t want to leave.”

She frowned. “I thought snack time was ten o’clock.”

Ryan didn’t say anything.

“What time did you pick him up?”

He sighed. “It was ten o’clock.”

“Why?”

“Because I felt so guilty for leaving him there when he was obviously so unhappy.”

“So he was at day care for a whole hour and a half?”

“We both agreed that it would be best to ease him into a new routine,” he reminded her.

“Which is why he was supposed to start with three hours,” she reminded him.

“We’ll try for three hours tomorrow.”

“Try?”

“How was your day?” he asked, in an obvious effort to shift the conversation.

“Good. We had Holden Durrant on the show today, and ‘Tuesday Trivia.’”

“I’m glad you weren’t worried about Oliver.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “They told you I called.”

“Apparently three times.”

“Okay, yes,” she admitted. “I just wanted to make sure he was doing okay.”

“
Three
times,” he said again.

“
You
picked him up early.”

“My meeting finished early,” he said. “It didn’t make sense to come home and then go back out to pick him up later.”

She sighed. “Are we in danger of becoming helicopter parents that hover over their kids all of the time? Or do you think even normal parents try to shield their children from difficult situations?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But that’s a scary thought.”

“That we’re parents?”

He smiled as he shook his head. “That we’re normal.”

* * *

When Ryan finally got to his office later that afternoon, there was a brisk knock on his door and then his cousin Nathan poked his head through. “Are you busy?”

“I haven’t been here long enough to get busy,” Ryan admitted. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in to see how everything was going.”

“Here or at home?”

“Either or,” his cousin said. “I know you’ve adjusted your work schedule to help with the baby.”

“Poor kid, huh?”

Nate grinned. “I wasn’t going to say it.”

Ryan’s answering smile quickly faded. “It really does suck. I mean, I think we’re doing okay—me and Harper—but we’re not Oliver’s parents.”

“One of the things I’ve learned, being with Allison and Dylan, is that biology is only one part of the equation. As long as you love the kid—and it seems pretty obvious that you do—you’ll figure things out.”

“I hope so.”

“So how’s everything else?”

“Work is fine. I’ve managed to keep on top of most things despite the hours I’m not in the office.”

“That’s great, but not what I was referring to.”

Ryan’s brows lifted. “What else is there?”

“The fact that you’re living with a woman for the first time in your life.”

“We’re not living together,” he denied. “Okay—we are
living
together, but we’re not living
together
.”

Nate smirked. “Glad you cleared that up.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I guess I do. I just thought...maybe...” His words trailed off suggestively.

“No,” Ryan said firmly.

“Are you still seeing Bethany, then?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“She wasn’t happy to learn that I would be sharing a house and childcare responsibilities with another woman and accused me of choosing Harper over her.”

“Did you?”

He shook his head. “Harper is so not my type.”

“I saw her at the funeral,” Nate reminded him. “Since when is your type not brunette and beautiful?”

“Uptight is not my type,” Ryan clarified.

“She didn’t seem uptight to me.”

“Try living with her.”

Nate shook his head. “I like the living arrangement I’ve got right now, thanks.”

“You’re not feeling cramped in Alli’s apartment?”

“We could use a little more space,” his cousin admitted. “We spent a few hours on the weekend touring open houses in Westdale.”

“There are some pretty big houses in that area,” Ryan noted. “Are you planning on expanding your family already?”

“We’re not in a hurry,” Nate said. “But we both want Dylan to be settled so that if we do decide to have more kids, we won’t have to uproot him again.”

“What did he think of the house hunting?”

“He was right into it. At first he was just excited by the idea of having a house with an actual backyard. Then he decided it would be even better if the backyard included a pool.”

Ryan chuckled at that. “So you’re buying a house with a pool?”

“We put in an offer last night—we should hear back sometime today.”

“There’s something else on your mind,” Ryan guessed.

“Yeah,” Nathan admitted. “But I’m not sure if it’s worth worrying you about—or even if it’s anything to worry about.”

“If what is?” he prompted.

“A young woman came in early this morning—I heard her talking to Alli, asking to see the CFO about some kind of scholarship program. When I walked through the door and introduced myself as the CFO, she asked specifically for John Garrett. She seemed surprised to hear that he’d retired a few months ago—and then she asked for you.”

“Me?”

Nate nodded.

“Did she give you her name?”

“Nora Reardon.”

“Doesn’t ring any bells,” Ryan told him.

“Young—probably twentysomething,” Nate guessed. “Long straight dark hair, blue eyes. A little mole at the corner of her mouth.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I know her.”

“Okay,” Nate agreed. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up in case she comes back.”

“I hope she does,” Ryan said. “Because now I’m curious.”

“Me, too.” His cousin checked his phone, grinned. “But right now I have to go buy a house.”

“Congratulations.”

Nate shook his hand. “Thanks.”

“Just one question before you go.”

He paused at the door.

“Do we have a scholarship program?”

“No,” Nate told him. “We don’t.”

* * *

It wasn’t just Oliver who was getting used to new routines. As the days turned into weeks and one month into two, she was becoming more comfortable with Ryan. She hadn’t forgotten about the kiss, but she was learning to accept the way her pulse raced and her skin tingled whenever he was near.

The days leading up to Mother’s Day were always chaotic as
Coffee Time with Caroline
did a full week of tributes to local mothers—including makeovers and shopping sprees and on-air cooking lessons for “In the Kitchen with Kane.”

Tuesday afternoon as she pulled in the driveway, she saw a man walking toward the front door. He paused on the step when he heard her vehicle, then redirected when she got out of the car. He was young and neatly dressed in khaki pants and a collared T-shirt with some kind of logo on the chest. A salesperson, most likely.

“Harper Ross?”

The use of her name made her wary. “Yes,” she acknowledged reluctantly.

He handed her an envelope. “Please read the enclosed documents carefully. You have thirty days to respond.”

“Respond to what?”

“You should consult with an attorney to ensure you understand your legal options. Have a nice day, ma’am.”

Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

Her fingers trembled as she lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of papers. As she unfolded the crisp pages, the bold words jumped out at her.

APPLICATION FOR CUSTODY OF MINOR CHILD.

* * *

Ryan paged through the document, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Darren’s sister and her husband, who’d had absolutely no contact with Oliver through the first seventeen months of his life, were suing for custody of the little boy.

He didn’t think they could succeed. The possibility was, to his mind, patently ridiculous. But the fact that they’d hired an attorney and filed a petition with the court proved that they were serious, and he could tell that Harper was seriously worried.

Not three minutes earlier, she’d burst through the front door, pale and shaking and looking as if she was going to throw up. At first, he’d thought that she was actually physically ill—and then he’d seen the title of proceedings on the document that she thrust at him.

“What are we going to do?” she asked him now, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“We’re going to respond,” he promised her. “We’re not going to let anyone take Oliver away.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I feel like this is my fault.”

“How could this possibly be your fault?”