With the way our first few months of marriage have gone, I know I can’t take anything for granted, especially not these serene moments when Ryder is safe and loved beside me. I’m only able to ensure one of those things will remain true forever.
His dark lashes flutter with the next stroke of my thumb, and I almost regret the motion until I’m met with the most beautiful cerulean eyes. A slow, easy smile fills my heart to the brim with gratitude.
“How’d I get so lucky to wake up to my gorgeous best friend?” he asks, his tone gravelly and sleep-laden as he reaches to cup my jaw.
“I wonder the same thing every day,” I whisper, content to remain in the quiet space surrounding us and avoid the prying questions from the amazing people in this town who no doubt love us but are, sometimes, a little much.
“Mmm,” he hums, wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me to lie over his chest. He ducks his chin and presses kisses along my jawline and over my thrumming pulse, my body warming.
We spend the next who knows how long whispering our shared gratitude for another day together, a second chance. We explore our bodies, pressing gentle kisses, tentative licks, and nips on every inch. Our touches are slow and worshipping, neither of us rushing to remove our clothes or take things any further. We just soak in the beauty of this moment, free of fear for our safety, the stress of rebuilding our lives, or the anxiety of what lies beyond this.
That is, until the chirping from our phones can no longer be ignored.
I’m straddling Ryder’s lap, his arms wrapped around my waist as he sits up, his legs straight beneath me. His scruff-covered chin sits on top of my shoulder until he kisses below my ear and nips at the tender flesh at the base of my neck with a groan. “How long do you think it’ll be before they’re busting down our door?”
“Probably not long,” I ruefully admit.
He lets out a rough exhale, pulling away from me to grab our phones from the nightstand.
The door creaks open, and Nugget waddles in, his entire butt shaking as he attempts to jump onto the bed, hanging onto the edge as I lean over to help drag him up. His tongue hangs as he dances, letting out a couple excited yelps and covering us in affection.
“Okay, good boy, Nugget. That’s enough,” I say, giggling as I pick him up, sliding out of the bed to take him out.
“Hey, Lols!” Ryder shouts, but I’ve already made the mistake of opening the door.
What looks like theentiretown is in our front yard! They all glance up to see me standing barefoot, hair a mess, my pants forgotten somewhere between crawling in the house and waking up this morning. Their brows raise, but they release a collective sigh at the sight of us, alive and safe.
As overwhelming as it is at first, Ryder and I take it in stride, allowing the town that raised us to be here in our most vulnerable moments, giving us over fifty shoulders to lean on when we need them, no questions asked.
After spending the last several years isolated from those I could trust, I’m ready to untangle those feelings and lean into something true:unconditional love.
Chapter Seventy-Six
LOLA’S
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 6
My heart is soaringhigh today after several long weeks of rebuilding this place, the entire town volleying for us, putting in the extra time and manpower necessary to get the studio back in working order for Lola.
These people, with such massive hearts, stood by us every step of the way. From the court hearing, which was sped up substantially thanks to Lemmon’s own father pushing to get it over with, to the nail-biting days of waiting for a decision where Russ was released with a year of community service because ultimately, he'd only gone along with his mother's plans so he could retrieve the dog he’d adopted after Lola left. Not that we returned Nugget to him.
It was Russ’s cousin who did all of Amy’s dirty work, sneaking onto the ranch to take photos of us and burn the barn down. We learned he lived less than an hour away and was actually the guy in the image I received with Nugget. He had a warrant out for his arrest already as a result of several other crimes he’d committed, and thanks to Teddy, he’s behind bars. Turns out Teddy was a bounty hunter in his past life and putthose skills to good use, getting back at the family that left him on my living room floor with a concussion.
Lemmon is in a facility, receiving the psychiatric care she needs to help heal from her past traumas. And Amy is locked up in a cell somewhere in Texas, never to bother us again, working through her own divorce after everything came to light and her husband desperately wanted out of their relationship.
The emotional strain, coupled with Lola struggling through some medication changes that had her more fatigued than ever, was painful to watch, and it makes this moment of pure bliss that much more incredible. Her symptoms have improved significantly, and it shows in every step she takes, each sway of those grabbable hips and the distinct lack of a wince when she rocks onto the balls of her feet.
The last several weeks have felt more like months with how much was packed into them. We made time for ourselves, too, acting like recluses, hiding away from everyone for a while to process our emotions, with the help of Talia and my grief counselor, Samuel. I made sure that, above all else, I took care of my wife, giving her the space and time she needed to focus on healing, both emotionally and physically.
Nothing about her wide smile and bright, glittering eyes gives away how much she’d shattered after the adrenaline had worn off and the realization that things could have ended so much differently sank in. The entire experience broke my goddamn heart.
Through it all, we felt an outpouring of love and support holding us up, pushing us from one day to the next.
My gaze flits around the room, landing on the overjoyed faces of the people who’d made all this possible, getting us through the utter hell we’d been served.
Sebastian is swiveling his hips to “Bailando Bachata” by Chayanne, dancing circles around his husband, Jeremiah. Their heads are thrown back, joyous laughter pouring out ofthem as Jeremiah does his best to shimmy and sway. Each day, we were woken up with lattes from Grind that had Lola purring into her mug as I rubbed her feet and calves. It became the perfect morning ritual, especially paired with the baked goods from Bake My Day that Caitlyn would drop off.
The Ryde or Dye book club has taken it upon themselves to pair up with the singles who came to class today, and they’ve shocked, I think, everyone with how good they are. For a bunch of bikers in leather, they’re pretty smooth. I, for one, am extremely grateful they didn’t have anything to do with the strange occurrences around town. It would’ve killed me. Thankfully, Bexaida’s instinct to trust them was right, as usual, and they worked every day to make sure our home was always stocked with romance reads, the barn cleaned up quickly and ready for repairs as soon as we were.
