The Rebel's Own(21)

Now she needed her mother’s help to remove all her stuff from her room and move them to Ryan’s room—for appearance’s sake—in under an hour. Plus, they needed to change the linens and probably vacuum the thick black carpet.

“What are you doing?”

Kennedy froze mid-motion as she shoved her things into a suitcase. “Ryan’s parents are on their way.”

“Why didn’t he tell you earlier?”

“He forgot,” she said. “Please, Mama, can we talk about it after we move and clean?”

“Mommy, should I draw a picture for Mrs. Carville?” Riley asked as he brought his coloring set into her room.

“Sure, baby. Mr. and Mrs. Carville are your grandparents. You can draw them both a picture,” Kennedy said, as she hurried him out of her room and into Ryan’s down the hall.

“I don’t like this,” Rebecca said, clicking her tongue, as Kennedy walked back into the room a moment later.

She tuned her mother out as Rebecca groaned about how bad an idea this was. It was the same reaction as when Kennedy had told her that they had gotten married… and that she was moving in with Ryan.

“What if you get too attached? You need to leave here when Riley gets his transplant. You need to keep your priorities straight.” She rambled on, even as she started moving Kennedy’s clothes out of her closet. At least she was talking and working at the same time,

“My priorities include a five- year-old boy and an unborn child. They also include a house for them to live in and that comes with a husband.”

“Kennedy—”

“Not now, Mother,” she said, her patience exhausted. “Just help me with this.”

Kennedy had barely finished everything when her hour was up and was just checking on Riley when she heard the front door open, and three voices filled the house.

“They’re here. I wonder if they know the kind of son they raised,” Rebecca spat.

“If you can’t be nice, I would rather you go to your room and avoid meeting the devil’s parents,” Kennedy hissed, as she stepped over a now-sleeping Riley. He’d fallen asleep over his drawing, a crayon still clutched in his hand. She thought of waking him to bring him to bed, but maybe she should just get him up and bring him out to meet his grandparents for a few minutes.

Kennedy froze and stared at the door. When she married Ryan, the concept of in-laws never occurred to her. What if she had a mother-in-law who hated her as much as Rebecca hated Ryan?

“What is he doing on the floor?” Kennedy looked up and met Ryan’s nervous stare.

“He was coloring a picture for your parents. I didn’t notice he was asleep. We were moving my stuff in here—”

“In here?” The shock was obvious in his tone. “You are going to sleep here? With me?”

“No, I’m just putting my things in your room. I’ll sleep in Riley’s room.” Kennedy heard her mother behind her suck in a breath. Rebecca was getting ready to blow. “Let’s not talk about this right now. How about we meet your parents first then talk about this when they are asleep?”

Ryan nodded, then asked, “What about Riley?”

“Pick him up for me please. I don’t have the strength.” The only thing Kennedy wanted to do was crawl into bed, and delay the farce she and Ryan had to put on for his parents.

“Is anybody there?”

“We should go. Riley, baby, wake up. Time to meet your grandparents.” Kennedy gently shook Riley awake as Ryan gathered him into his arms.

“Come on, buddy, open your eyes, just for a moment.”

Riley groaned then whimpered.

“I feel like such a bully trying to wake him up,” Ryan said.

“Think of it as payback for all the times he’s woken us up,” Kennedy added, as she picked up Riley’s picture from the floor. “Maybe we can introduce them to their unconscious grandson and hope the picture will suffice.”

Kennedy followed Ryan out as he headed down the stairs to the living room. She watched as the weight of Riley in Ryan’s arms stressed his shoulder and back muscles. She wished she could reach out and sneak her fingers under his shirt and feel the muscles built up from his active football regimen. He was sexy, and the way his ass fit snug in his jeans turned the temperature of her blood to boil. She wished they still had sex. But then that was her fault. She had set the rules.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t break them.

“Who’s this?” Mrs. Carville’s melodic voice filled the air.

Riley’s eyes opened and his head lifted from his father’s shoulder.

“Daddy, you’re home.”