If I Need You (If You Come Back To Me 5) - Page 38

She bit her lip and stared out at the black lake. “I think I should probably go home. I have a lot to think about,” she said.

He ran his hand along her shawl-covered arm.

“I’ll be available. If you want to talk about the idea of marriage, just call me. But while you’re thinking things over, I should return to San Francisco. There’s a lot I need to do if I intend to move the charter airline business to Michigan.”

“Do you still plan to do that? Even if we don’t...marry?” she finished awkwardly.

He nodded. “I purchased the Cessna that was for sale at the airport, and I’ve arranged to rent space there for my planes and an office.”

“Really? You’ve been busy,” she said, sounding a little numb.

“I haven’t changed my mind about wanting to be near my son or daughter. I don’t think I could stand being that far away on a regular basis from my child.” Or from you, he finished privately. If he said that out loud, she’d run scared. He’d already witnessed how skittish she could become at the idea of them in a romantic relationship. For now his best bet would be to give her the space she needed to feel confident in her decision. He touched her cheek with his fingertips, wishing he could erase the doubt and fear on her face.

“Take your time. I’ll be here, whenever you need me,” Ryan said.

“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling up at him. Something twisted in his gut when he saw tears shining in her eyes.

* * *

Two weeks later Faith took off work a little early and stopped by the grocery store. Tonight was a special night. She wanted to make a nice dinner and there were still some last-minute details at the house that needed completing.

At around six that evening she finished making the bed in the guest bedroom, taking extra time to fluff the pillows. Her heart raced with nervous anticipation. She’d already showered and dressed in a manner that she hoped looked nice without seeming like she tried to look nice. The steaks she planned to make on the grill were marinating and the green bean, grape and pasta salad was ready to serve.

She ran her hand across the pillowcase, trying to picture Ryan’s head resting there. It seemed surreal, but it was going to happen. Tonight. Ryan had already arrived in Holland. He would be at her house at any moment.

For a period of time—it would be his house, as well.

A week after the fundraiser ball, following a great deal of soul-searching, she’d called him in California and agreed to marry him. He’d taken another week to tidy up matters with his business and put his condo up for sale. In all that time Faith hadn’t seen him. She missed him more than she cared to admit, his absence feeling like a raw ache in her belly, which she continually told herself was a figment of her imagination or quite possibly indigestion from her pregnant state.

She’d made clear her requirements for the marriage, of course. It would be in name only. Ryan could live at her house until the divorce was final—in the spare bedroom. They would remain married until the baby was born, giving their child at least the basics of legitimacy. Faith wouldn’t have cared about such a thing; her baby would be loved to the ends of the earth, no matter what legal contract had been observed or not observed at the time of its birth. However she didn’t want to deprive her baby of any of the benefits of a “normal” childhood.

Whatever “normal” meant.

She now had an inkling of what Ryan had meant about the social stigma associated with having a child out of wedlock, as much as she wished she hadn’t gained knowledge of that particular prejudice. Her parents had been stunned and somewhat stiff when she’d informed them the day after the fundraiser that she was pregnant. When she’d called them back, and informed them that she planned to elope with Ryan—the father of her baby—they’d seemed somewhat mollified.

Faith knew her parents were utterly involved with each other, their friends and their social schedule. She wasn’t offended that they’d seemed relieved when she said Ryan and she planned to elope in a small, private ceremony, and that they wouldn’t be required to fly from their cozy condominium to Michigan. She routinely made excuses for her parents’ lackluster interest in her life, and had long ago accepted the fact that Bob and Myra Blackwell were more interested in each other and their social network than they’d ever been in their only daughter. Faith described them as “deliriously happy in their golden years,” for instance, while her friend Jane was known to dub them “self-involved excuses for parents.”

In all honesty Faith wasn’t much bothered by the idea that her parents couldn’t be roused from their routine to attend her wedding. Given the facade of the marriage, she’d prefer not to have too many witnesses to the event.

She stood next to the bed and glanced around Ryan’s new bedroom suite, anxious to make sure everything was neat and orderly. Her stomach seemed to leap into her chest cavity when she heard the brisk knock at her front door.

She opened her mouth to greet him when she opened the outer door, but nothing came out. He looked amazing to her. In the two weeks of his absence, his hair had grown a little bit. It now brushed his collar in the back and fell farther forward on his forehead. Along with a slight scruff on his lean jaw and the duffel bag flung casually over his shoulder, he appeared to be exactly what she’d subtly accused him of being in the past—a bad-boy, extremely sexy pilot with the promise of a new adventure gleaming in his eyes. Or maybe the reason her brain immediately leaped to “sex” had to do with the way his dark eyes trailed over her in a preylike perusal, as though he was calmly planning where he was going to take his first bite.

She cleared her throat and forced her ridiculous thoughts to scatter.

“Welcome back,” she said breathlessly. “Or should I say, welcome home.”

He grinned—a quick, brilliant flash of sex appeal.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping into the foyer when she waved her hand and stepped back.

“Did everything go okay with your arrival in Holland?” Faith asked as she led him to his bedroom, her chin twisted over her shoulder. She was having trouble pulling her stare off his rugged male glory and nearly passed the doorway to his room.

“Yeah, all went well. Both planes are snug in their new homes at the airport, and I dropped Scott off at his new apartment,” he said, referring to the other pilot for Eagle Air.

“So Scott is all settled?” Faith asked as they hovered outside the room.

“Yeah. He wants to thank you in person for all you’ve done in helping him. He liked the apartment a lot. I want to thank you, too, Faith, for looking at some places and sending him the apartment photos and the phone numbers for getting utilities connected and everything.”

Tags: Beth Kery If You Come Back To Me Romance
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