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20
Dinner was quiet as the kids’energy levels petered out. We had s’mores before the sky even grew dark, knowing those two wouldn’t last, and sure enough, as soon as they snuggled under their sleeping bags in their separate cots, they were fast asleep.
My eyes stung as I looked around at the large tent, at how careful Ryan had been with each and every thing he’d done to make this weekend comfortable for us. It was something I’d expect to see on a movie set or something an assistant or crew would have set up for him, but he’d done this all on his own. Inside the tent, dim lights were strung from one side to the other, and the children each had a small cot stuffed with blankets and pillows. Another outdoor rug lay on the floor between our separate space and theirs.
A thin piece of green nylon hung, dividing the large tent in half. On the opposite side where I would be sleeping was one large cot, big enough to fit two. Sure enough, several blankets and pillows were neatly placed around the space. I wasn’t even irritated that I’d be sharing a bed with Ryan, especially considering everything we were using belonged to his parents; there was no use getting frustrated over it.
Grabbing an extra blanket, I walked out to the fire pit, where Ryan sat stoking the flames. The soft light reflected off the harsh lines of his face, reminding me what it felt like to have his hands on my body. The moment earlier in the water was still simmering low in my belly, causing a firestorm of emotion and need to thrum through me like a war drum.
I wanted him, plain and simple. I was a woman with needs, and they were pushing their demands to the forefront of my mind, ignoring reason and history—which meant I’d need to keep my distance, because having those needs met just wasn’t worth the cost of losing my vulnerable heart to this man again.
“They okay in there?” he asked, lifting those indigo eyes to me.
My thighs clenched together as I harnessed my resolve.
“Yeah, they’re great.” I smiled, wrapping the blanket around me a bit tighter.
“Should have thought to bring an extra one of those,” he said, eyeing my source of boundary setting. The fire was plenty warm, and we both knew it. There were several blankets he could pull from—in the tent, on the logs, in Cole’s lounger sanctuary—but still, I stood and walked over to him.
“Wanna split a log, or…” I looked around for an alternative option to share the blanket together. He was sitting in a camping chair, a fancy one that reclined and had all sorts of settings, but still, it was for one person.
“There’s room here, if you’re comfortable with that.” He smirked, challenging me.
The chair would break. I was positive of that, but if he wanted to risk it then fine.
“Scoot,” I muttered, inching closer.
“There’s nowhere to scoot—just sit on my lap.”
“Seriously, Ryan?” I wanted to flirt with the man, not be blatantly obvious about the fact that I was lusting after him.
“Bex, stop making such a big deal about it.” He laughed. Two seconds later, strong hands gripped my waist and pulled me until I was snuggled onto his lap.
It was shockingly comfortable.
“You okay?” he whispered once we’d laid the blanket over both of us.
“Yeah…this is actually kind of nice.” I rested my head back against his chest, letting my defenses down and choosing instead to just melt and go with whatever was happening between us.
“Bex…I wanted to talk to you about what you said on the porch…”
I shook my head in defiance. “Let’s not go back there. I was wrong for what I said. I shouldn’t have put that on you…it wasn’t right.”
“You were right. I was so blinded back then…sometimes it’s a wonder I had you in my life for any amount of time at all. I didn’t deserve you.” His gruff voice tickled my neck.
“You were good to me, Ryan. The best,” I whispered, watching the orange flames consume the logs we’d tossed in.
“No, there are so many things I can see now that were big flags for you, which is why I can’t stay angry with you for leaving. I think if the tables had been turned and I had been blamed like that…accused the way I had accused you, I would have left too.” Lips pushed against my ear, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Bex.”
Pain and hope warred against each other in my midsection. I had waited ten years to hear those words, to hear him acknowledge that he truly understood my position in all this and why I fled. I wasn’t proud, that still hadn’t changed, but to hear him say he was sorry thawed out a frozen place inside of me I thought had died.
Unsure of how to reply to that specific sentiment without completely falling apart, I decided to share a truth with him instead.
“You wanted to know why Logan was so hostile toward you when you first met…” I tried to turn to see him better, but those large hands gripped my thighs, keeping me in place. I tried to ignore the hardness that grew with every slight move of my body. “I came back to Washington a year after I left…I was doubting my stance and what I had done. I had gone to Texas to see my mother, but it was depressing and ultimately a bad decision. She didn’t want me there to see how sick she’d gotten—she had been drinking really heavily, and six months after I arrived, she, uh…she died of alcohol poisoning. I buried her all by myself, with no one there to mourn her. Once I settled her affairs, I decided to move to Colorado and start fresh. I met Logan after designing a logo for his friend’s food truck. Logan flirted, asked me on a few dates, but I kept turning him down. It wasn’t until he kissed me out of the blue and gently asked what I was still holding on to that forced me to travel back. I just had to see if you were okay, or if you missed me. I needed closure.”
Ryan was frozen behind me, barely breathing as I told him this one thing I had never told anyone.
“I went to that bar we liked to visit after your games. Do you remember?” I turned my head.
