Never Tied Down (The Never Duet #2) (18 page)

   I stepped up onto the platform and wandered through the evenly spaced horses.  I found one with a blue saddle and knew that was the one Marcus would have chosen.  I put one foot in the stirrup and Riot’s hands came to my waist, acting as if I needed help mounting my horse, but I knew he really just wanted an excuse to put his hands on me.  After I was safely atop, he climbed onto the horse right next to me.  It took a few minutes for everyone who was riding to find their horse, but after a few minutes the carousel started to turn.

   I closed my eyes and listened to the tinkling music, the wind blowing against my face, and the swirling feeling that is the appeal of a carousel.  My hands were wrapped around the golden pole in front of me and I leaned my head back, trying to picture the smile that would have been huge and bright across Marcus’ face.  I tried to imagine the excitement an unlimited pass to a carousel would have given him.

   A few minutes into our ride, I felt something touching my leg.  My eyes opened and I saw Riot using a finger to scratch at my leg, then he held out his hand to me.  I took his hand and leaned my temple against the golden pole, and I looked into his eyes as we went around and around in circles.  His thumb made lazy circles over the back of my hand and as the carousel finally slowed, he mouthed the words “I love you.”

   I decided he’d been right, and once wasn’t enough.  We rode the carousel for an hour, always switching horses between rides, and on the last one, I led Riot to one of the bench seats and cuddled into his side.  The ride started to move and I pressed my face into his chest, squeezing my arms around his waist.

   We swirled round and round, and I watched as children’s faces lit up with joy.  It was bittersweet.  Sadness was overwhelming because I’d never see Marcus’ smiling face again, but I shared their joy knowing his spirit was still within me, and I felt his joy like he was riding with me.  Riot’s lips pressed up against my temple, placing a soft kiss there, and then I heard his voice, felt his breath against my ear.

   “He was so lucky to have you as his sister.”

   At his words, one tear slid down my cheek, and I snuggled into him even more. 

Chapter Thirteen

His Signature Move

Kalli

   The car ride back to LA was quiet, but in a comfortable way.  The radio was on, but it played softly in the background.  My hand was holding Riot’s and resting in his lap, and I spent most of my time either looking out the window, or resting my eyes, leaning against the headrest.

   So much had happened in just one weekend.

  Two days full of changes and transitions; my brain was trying to catch up with all the emotions running through my heart.

   We were just outside of LA and it was late enough that the traffic wasn’t terrible.

   “You’ve been pretty quiet,” he said.  I opened my eyes and looked over at him.

   “Just thinking.” I said, giving him a weak smile.  I was honestly exhausted.  The panic attack over lunch had used enough emotional energy that I could have slept the rest of the day, and then the ride on the carousel had done me in.  I hadn’t run a marathon or anything, but my body was spent.

   “Anything you want to talk about?”

   I could tell he wanted to know what was going on in my head.  He wanted reassurance that I wasn’t panicking and that we were okay.

   “I guess I’m just kind of drained from the whole weekend, ya know?  A lot happened.”

   “Yeah,” he replied, still not satisfied with my answer.  And that was fine.  If there was one thing I could do for Riot from then until forever, it was make him feel secure that I wasn’t pushing him away or shutting him out.  If he needed me to tell him, straight up, that I was still
there
with him, I would, every time.

   “Hey,” I said softly, waiting until he turned his face to look at me.  “I love you.”

   He didn’t respond with words, but he brought my hand up and kissed the back of it.

   “I’m worried about Halah,” he said ten minutes later.

   I squeezed his hand.  “She’ll be okay.”

   “She just seemed off, you know?  Well, you wouldn’t know because you’ve never met her before.  But she just seemed, I don’t know, like something was hanging over her head.  And then she kept having to go to the bathroom, and then out by her car…” His voice trailed off and I could practically hear the thoughts ticking in his brain.  I bit my lower lip, trying to keep my mouth closed.

   “Did you think she was acting strange?” he asked finally, after I’d been silent.

   I shrugged.  “I don’t think she felt well today.”

   “Yeah, but I mean, it was weird, right?  She was fine one minute, then sick the next.  She was starving, but then she wasn’t hungry.”

   I cringed because I knew it was only a matter of time before he came to the same conclusion I had.  Finally, I let out a loud sigh.  I wasn’t going to just let him flounder around, he needed to be put out of his misery.

   “Do you think, possibly, and I’m just throwing this out there, that perhaps…she could be pregnant?”

   My question was nearly a physical force.  I could almost see the way it hung in the air between us before it landed right on top of his head with a brutal impact.

   “Pregnant?” he asked, but more exclaimed.  Loudly.

   “I don’t know,” I said, pulling my hand free from his, wanting to give him all the space and hands he needed to deal with his emotions.  “I just thought the way the smells got to her, how hungry she was, how she kept saying she would be okay, or that it would pass, like she knew exactly what was wrong and knew nothing could be done about it.”  I held my hands up and scrunched my shoulders.  “It kind of seemed like she was pregnant to me.”

   “Pregnant?” he repeated, his face blank except for his eyebrows, which were reaching new and uncharted heights.

   “I don’t know.  I mean, I could be way off base.”

   “Like ‘having a baby’ pregnant?”

   “I don’t know of any other kind of pregnant,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.  He was quiet for a few more moments and then turned to look at me. 

   “You think my baby sister is going to have a baby?”

   Again, I held up my hands and scrunched my shoulders.  “Possibly?”

   Then his eyebrows dropped to their regular height, and he got a little quieter.  “She did mention something to me about having thirty weeks to figure everything out…”

  
Oh.  My.  God.

   “Riot,” I said gently, placing my hand on his thigh.  “She’s totally pregnant.”

   “Shit fucking damn it,” he cursed, as he slammed his palm against the steering wheel.

   “She’s probably ten weeks pregnant, which totally explains why she still has morning sickness, why she isn’t showing, and her, uh, emotional instability.”  I thought of her eyes at lunch and how they were begging me to save her from her brother finding out she was, indeed, pregnant, and suddenly I felt like a traitor to the female sisterhood.  “Listen, you can’t tell her I told you.  In fact, you can’t tell anyone.  She didn’t even tell me, I guessed.  But I figured it out at lunch and I’m pretty sure she knew I’d guessed and she gave me
the look
that said, ‘Please don’t tell my brother.’  So, please, don’t tell her I told you.”

   “I’m just supposed to tell her I figured it out myself?”

   “No!  She’ll never believe that.”  He looked at me, eyebrows back up, offended.  “I just mean that she’ll never believe that a man who’s never had a kid or been around a pregnant woman before would put all those clues together.”

   “Okay, I won’t tell her.  But I’m calling her every week.  And I’m texting her daily.  What’s she going to do?  Have a baby on a cruise ship?”

   Now he sounded like he was getting angry.  The rest of the drive was me listening to him list all the reasons why Halah couldn’t have a baby.  I didn’t bother telling him that it was not really any of his business whether or not his sister had a baby.  It took me a few minutes to realize he was driving to my apartment, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to anger the beast.  He parked my Rover and then scrubbed his hands over his face.

   I let him calm down for a moment and then I quietly said, “Your truck isn’t here.  It’s at the lot.  Do you want me to drive you there?”

   He leaned his head back and then turned it to look at me.

   “No, I just want to drink a beer, relax for a bit, and go to bed.”

   “Here?”  I couldn’t even try to hide the surprise from my voice.

   “Did you expect, after everything that went on between us this weekend, you would ever sleep alone again?”

   My heart swelled at his words.  I flung my arms over the center console and wrapped them around his neck, pulling myself to him.  He hugged me and one of his hands ran down the back of my head, stopping on my neck and squeezing me there.  My pulse picked up with his touch.  A hand on my neck had always been something I associated with Riot.  It was his signature move, and feeling it in that moment only made everything inside of me heat up and liquefy.

   “I don’t mind if you want to take things slow, Riot.  You don’t have to stay with me.”

   “Babe, I was all in months ago.  I’m all in now.  If you want me to go to my own place, you just have to say it.  But I don’t really want to be away from you.  Not now.  Not when we just really found each other again.”

   His words were said against my neck and even though I couldn’t see his face, I could hear his sincerity, his need.  And even though a rational person would take a step back and not rush into such a serious relationship so quickly, there wasn’t even a tiny part of me that wanted to be apart from him either.

   But there was one thing.

   “I don’t know if I can stay at your apartment.”  He didn’t say anything, just squeezed me tighter.  “Marcus slept in that apartment and I just don’t think I could be in your living room without seeing him there and remembering…”

   “Hey,” he said, pulling away.  “It’s okay.  I can’t walk past my couch without seeing him there either.”  He cradled my face with his big hands and I leaned into one of them.  “It was really hard at first, to see the spot where he’d slept.  But eventually it got easier.  I don’t expect you to go there.  Not ever if you don’t want to.  I will come to you.”  He pushed back the hair that had fallen around my face during our embrace, then said, “Can we go inside, have a beer, relax, and then go to bed?”

   “Yes,” I said happily.

   “Riot,
yes
,” I cried, as he thrust deep into me.  “God, yes.” 

   I was draped over him, his hands were on my ass, and he was absolutely
fucking
me into oblivion.

   I had been exhausted—emotionally and physically—and I wasn’t even entertaining the idea of taking advantage of Riot Bentley in my bed, but he’d had other plans.  Plans that involved me doing absolutely nothing, but still feeling absolutely everything.  My heart was racing, my breaths were panting, and I was wet.  Soaked from the orgasm he’d given me with his mouth, and now drenched from his perfect cock sliding in and out of me, hitting every single button inside me that only he’d ever been able to find.

   “You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled.  I loved it when he growled.  I leaned up, putting all my weight on one hand, and crashed my mouth down on his.  He swallowed my cries as I came, and when I fell limply against him a few seconds later, he continued to piston in and out of me, rapidly finding his own release.

   It had been quick, hot, sweaty sex.  It had been perfect.  I couldn’t have handled anything more involved than that, and he’d kept his promise that he’d do all the work.

   He rolled me over so we were both on our sides, still connected, and he pressed a kiss to my lips.

   “I totally owe you one round of effortless, amazing, sex,” I said after he’d pulled away, breaking our connection.

   “Is that, like, a coupon or something I can cash in on whenever I want?  Or is that something I have to wait to enjoy until you feel like gifting it to me?”  He was smiling and that made me happy.  Since we’d gotten back to my place he’d been pretty quiet, sullen even, drinking his beer and watching late night television.  I’d expected to head to bed, perhaps cuddle a little, and then fall asleep.  But as soon as we hit the bedroom he’d grabbed me, thrown me on the bed, and his mouth seemed to be on a mission.

   “You can cash it in whenever you want, as long as I’m capable,” I replied, winking at him.

   After a brief moment of silence he asked, “Can we talk about something?”

   “Sure,” I said, then immediately yawned.

   He rolled to his back, bringing me with him, and I moved so that my head was nestled right in the crook of his shoulder.

   “At lunch today, that was a panic attack, right?”

   I stilled at his words.  My panic attack was the very last thing I’d thought he was going to bring up.  When I didn’t answer right away, his hand came up and started moving up and down my arm.

   “Yeah.  It was.”

   “And you said you’d had them before?”

   I pushed back a little bit and looked up at him.  “Did you just fuck me into oblivion so that you could ask me questions about my anxiety?”

   “That wasn’t my intention, no, but it doesn’t sound like a terrible plan now that you mention it.”

   I kept looking at him, trying to figure out exactly how I felt about what was happening between us, and then I was laughing softly.  He was right.  I was exhausted, even more now than I had been an hour before, and I was relaxed.

   “Most of the people I surrounded myself with after his death kind of figured out that his name was a trigger for me.  Talking about him at all was a trigger.  So, for a while no one talked about him, including me.  Then I moved here and no one knows about him so no one asks about him.  I think about him all the time, but I’m used to that.  I wasn’t prepared to hear someone mention him so casually.”

   “I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing my temple.