AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mom squeezes my palm tightly, sighing and glancing at me every few moments, her bright eyes brimming with questions as though she’s finding this as difficult to believe as I am.
I try not to stare at Ryland as we leave our rundown neighborhood and head for the bridge, but my gaze is pulled to him over and over as though magnetized. I can’t stop myself from drinking in the sight of him, my mouth going dry even as my other set of lips is anything but.
He handles the steering wheel deftly in his giant’s hands, but his knuckles are bone-white. He’s gripping it hard for some reason, as though he’s angry that he has to do this, shield us based on his principles.
I remember the way his body felt crushed against mine in the apartment, the hard ridges of his muscles pressing through the fabric of his suit.
If I wasn’t holding my mom’s hand, I know I’d let my mind fly to silly, impossible places.
Instead, I sigh and let my forehead rest against the glass.
We join the traffic on the bridge, the water glittering below us, the setting sun making the city shimmer orange-red.
After an hour of driving, we’re in the countryside.
Ryland turns onto a stone pathway that leads us down a long road, bordered on all sides by flowering nature. The sun has almost completely set now, giving everything a storybook appearance.
“Oh my,” Mom murmurs when Ryland’s estate comes into view.
Oh my is right.
It sits atop a small hill like a fairytale castle, a building made of stone the same shade as Ryland’s hair. A black iron gate sits between two grinning gargoyles, and through the gate, I see a long field that ends in a fountain, water flying toward the sky.
Ryland lowers his window and leans out, brushing his thumb against a metal access pad built into the brickwork.
The gates whine and open slowly, and Ryland drives us down the pathway.
I gaze at the massive estate, more silly thoughts firing brightly in my mind.
As we drive toward the looming house – seeming crazily big the closer we get – I imagine a group of happy-faced children running across the lawn, screaming, Mommy, Mommy.
I imagine Ryland jogging across the lawn, grinning in his silver armor of a suit, leaning down to scoop them into his arms and cradle our children close.
My womb throbs as dream Ryland looks up at me, smiling over the tops of our children’s heads.
I clasp my hands to my belly, squeezing as though I can communicate some sense to my womb by touch alone.
What the heck is wrong with me?
These thoughts are downright insane.
Ryland brings the car to a stop at the steps that lead up to his imposing home.
I see him smirk in the rearview when the barking begins.
“I guess that’s Chopper?” I murmur, flinching at the sound.
He sounds like a helicopter, growling between the barks, so loud I can hear him from the door, down the steps, all the way in here. He sounds like he’s going to blow the door down and sprint down here to maul us.
“Is it safe?” Mom whispers. “He sounds feral.”
“Oh, he’s feral, alright,” Ryland smirks, chuckling.
“I hope he isn’t aggressive,” Mom says tartly.
For a moment, it’s like I can forget about the cancer and the pain of these past few months. She sounds exactly how she used to, ready to take on the world with her words and her outrage and not much else.
“I don’t know about that,” Ryland smirks, clearly enjoying making us squirm. “I guess we’ll have to see if he likes you or not.”
He climbs from the car and I look across at my mom.
Despite everything, I find myself giggling when I see how her lips are twisted in outrage, her eyebrows raised in uncertainty.
“What use is any of this if we get mauled by a ferocious beast?” she says.
“I’m sure he’s just teasing us,” I say, turning to the window as he ascends the steps.
He moves confidently, gracefully for a man of his size. It’s like every movement is planned down to the tiniest shift in his muscles, as though he’s rehearsed walking up these steps dozens of times before.
“Are you?” Mom says. “Because I’m not. And I’m definitely not getting out of this car until that ferocious animal proves it’s not out to eat me.”
I giggle, shaking my head.
And yet I can’t deny that I’m not exactly sure when I hear how loudly Chopper snarls.
At the top of the stairs, Ryland opens the door and the growling gets louder. For a moment, it’s like the dog’s going to charge down at us and tip the car over.
I wonder what breed he is.
He must be a big dog, huge and scary, with sharp terrifying teeth.
“Oh my God,” I giggle when Ryland starts walking down the steps with the dog cradled to his chest with one hand, smirking at us.
