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She wasn’t sure what she expected when she opened the door—maybe the UPS guy or a neighbor who’d heard all the caterwauling? But when she threw it open, she was struck dumb.
Standing on the front porch was Ryker Matthews.
And he wasn’t alone.
Chapter 22
When Ryker returned to town Thursday, his elation over going home with Six tanked as he drove down Main Street. Although he knew Bryce was working in Niagara Falls until the end of the week, he couldn’t help but feel his heart slide in his chest when her BMW wasn’t outside PattyCakes. It would’ve been nice to see her and introduce her and his mom to Six at the same time—two women, one apology, and potentially zero casualties because they were in a public place with witnesses.
He’d been trying to call and text Bryce all week, but first the picture of him and Six bounced, and he figured it was something to do with his data plan, or the size of the photo. But when his family got the picture, and the onslaught of questions and congratulations came pouring in, he tried to send it to Bryce’s phone again.
No dice. And all his texts came back Undeliverable.
At first, he wondered if her phone might be out of range, being close to the Canadian border, or maybe she’d forgotten to pack her phone charger or something. But when he mentioned his guesses on the phone to Zander, his brother disagreed.
“Shit, man. She must’ve blocked you.”
Ryker’s eyes bulged. That scenario hadn’t even entered his head. “No. Something—something must be wrong.”
“Well, I mean, Addison did break her leg, and from what Mom said, she’s worried Bryce may not come back to PattyCakes at all,” Zander said nonchalantly. “Apparently, they fell in love with her at Cascade.”
Ryker’s voice shook as he finally got his thoughts aligned. “W-what? Is Addison okay? When did this happen? Why didn’t anyone call me?”
“I figured she called you, same as she called Mom. If I were you, I’d get over to PattyCakes. Not only can Mom fill you in, you owe her an in-person apology. She is royally pissed you didn’t tell her the real reason you were leaving, and so is Drake. You put me in a hell of an awkward position, dude. Even Imani’s mad at me.”
“Sorry, Zan. I…” Ryker paused, glanced at his dog, who’d just woken up from an hour-long nap in his front seat, blinking first at the view outside the window, then at Ryker. Just having Six in the car comforted him enough to share it all. “I’m sorry. Making you promise to stay silent was a dick move, but this week gave me clarity and I feel like I will be a better version of me, with Six by my side.”
Zander gave a low whistle. “Whoa. Who are you? And what have you done with my emotionally unavailable brother?”
Ryker rolled his eyes. “You’re a douche. I’ve got to go, but swing by later and meet Six.”
“Sweet. Can’t wait. Good luck with Mom, and…I hope you and Bryce get things worked out. I like that one. She’s spicy and doesn’t put up with your bullshit.”
They hung up, and Ryker pulled into the alley next to PattyCakes to park. Originally, he’d wanted to go home, take Six out, and get something to eat. Plus, he needed to get out of these jeans and the long-sleeved black T-shirt he’d thrown on this morning—it was one Zander had gifted him one Christmas that saidI’m amakanick. Mecchanik.Mekanic. I fix cars—and change into something cooler for the warm spring day.
But after he heard the news from Zander, nothing was more important than answers. Ryker slammed his palm against the steering wheel. He thought he’d been doing the right thing by handling this by himself.
Six whined, putting her paw across the truck’s seat to land on his thigh.
“I know, girl. I’m okay,” he said, making himself breathe. He turned off the truck and stroked the dog’s head, running her soft ears through his fingers. “Our first mission: meet Mom. Do your best to look adorable as I apologize. Then we’ll strategize about Bryce. Got it?”
He was holding out hope that it was all a giant misunderstanding…but his gut told him otherwise. As he walked Six through the door of PattyCakes, he recalled the last voicemail he’d sent to Bryce:
We need to talk.
In retrospect, he should’ve been more forthcoming—he’d probably sounded ominous, but what should he have sent?Gotta bolt. Might be matching with a dog, but maybe not. Oh, btw, I probably can never give you kids. Talk soon?
First, he’d never strung together a text that long in his life. Plus, it was a topic he thought better discussed as a face-to-face deal, not in a text where things could be misconstrued. But he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d screwed up, and when the comforting smell of baked goods hit his face when he and his dog entered PattyCakes, he felt his throat closing up.
Freaking feelings, again. Damn it!
Six bumped her nose into his thigh, and he automatically reached down to pet her just as his mom spotted him, rushing out from behind the counter.
Her eyes immediately landed on the golden retriever at his side.
“Sorry, Mom.” He opted for a fast, surprise offense. “I screwed up. I should’ve told you I applied for a service dog. I was on a two-year waiting list, so I figured I’d have lots of time, but another vet opted out at the last minute for training, and I got his spot this week. I wasn’t sure we’d match, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up or worry you—”
To his horror, his throat closed off, as if a lump of sand had congealed behind his Adam’s apple. Tears clouded his vision, and he blinked rapidly.
