When she returns, she’s carrying a large white box with a blush-pink bow tied around it. “I just finished dry cleaning it. It’s all yours, on the house.”
I shake my head. “No, ma’am. That’s too kind, and I’m happy to pay for it.”
“I’ve known your momma a long time, young man, so I know she taught you manners. Accept the gift, hun. Think of it as a wedding present. Besides, you’ve done more for me and this shop than you realize. You were always a good boy, and I’d love her to have this. Please, take it.” She pushes the box into my arms; I wrap my hands around it, holding it to my chest.
“Thank you, Betsy,” I tell her with a small smile I hope conveys just how thankful I really am.
“You’re very welcome. Now, get home to that wife of yours.” She smiles, shooing me out of the store.
By the time I get home, Lola’s in the kitchen, swaying her hips to music playing in her earbuds. Long ringlets fall around her heart-shaped face in a stunning cascade of curls. It’s the same rich, dark brown that has always artfully painted her head, sun-kissed streaks of chestnut and iridescent gold drawing out the olive undertones in her smooth complexion. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts that hits her mid-thigh as she stirs a pot, and my mouth iswatering,but not for food.
She spins, hearing the door shut behind me, her eyes wide with surprise. “Hey! You’re home early.”
I smile, setting the box down on the dining room table behind her. “What’s all this?”
“I figured I’d surprise you by making dinner tonight.”
“It smells delicious, darlin’. Thank you,” I tell her, sinceritylacing my words. A grin pulls at the corners of my mouth as my gaze trails down her body. Her tan legs are bare, and the sight of her in my shirt has me damn near losing my mind. “And what’s that you’ve got on?” I ask with a smirk.
She looks down at herself, suddenly aware of how short my shirt really is on her. She tugs at the hem, but she meets my smirk with one of her own. “It was in with my laundry, and I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
Goddamn, this woman.“I don’t mind at all, darlin’. What’s mine is yours,” I assure her.
“Thanks,” she says sheepishly, that pretty blush swirling on her cheeks. She tucks a rampant strand of hair behind her ear, and my belly warms at the sight of her.
I clear my throat. “Why don’t you go take a seat at the table, and I’ll serve us up this fine meal you’ve made?”
She gives me a shy smile, tucking her chin as she pulls her chair out.
She sets her hands on the box I left, and her gaze flicks up to me. “What’s this?”
“Go ahead and open it.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
BORN PROTECTOR
MONDAY, MAY 5
My fingers trailover the smooth edges of the box and wrap around the perfectly tied blush-pink ribbon, pulling it loose.
I can hear Ryder a few feet away, plating thecongri, maduros,andpollo guisadoI made us for dinner. The least I can do for him is cook, considering I feel like amantenida. It’s only been a couple of weeks since I moved back, but not having a job or any prospects is really wearing on me.
Plates clang, but those sounds become faint behind the noise my heartbeat makes, pounding in my ears when I lift the lid of the box to find my wedding dress inside.
My eyes shoot to him. “Ryder,” I breathe out.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“What’s this?”
“It’s your wedding dress,” he tells me, as if that answers anything.
“And what’s it doing on our kitchen table?”
“You said you wanted to keep it, and I promised you’d have what you want in this life. It seemed important to you, so it’simportant to me.”
A sudden pressure clamps down on my chest, and before I can stop myself, I’m up on my feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. My legs move on their own, and in a blur, I’m right there, colliding into Ryder’s arms, his warmth grounding me. I stand on my tiptoes, winding my arms around his neck. He reacts immediately, pulling me against his hard chest, which rumbles with laughter.
