“Exactly. That woman of yours has been through so much shit in her life. She needs some security. If you won’t do it for me, do it for Mia . . . and the kids. Hell, do it for all of us.”
“I’ll talk to Mia tonight. Ask her what she thinks. If it will work.”
“Jesus, brother. Grow some balls. Who’s running this fucking club? We both know Mia will jump at the chance. Quit stalling. I've set up a meeting with Bill and Max for next week, so just say yes already.”
“You’d decided before you even spoke to me,” he accused.
“Yeah, I had. Going on my own is second choice, but I will if I have to. I’ve got backing by two brilliant men. My soon-to-be wife is a lawyer; she can help me with all the legal shit. I think I can make it work. Max has always said I’ve got it in me, and finally I believe him.”
“You’ve always been a smart fucker, Ryder. That’s why I've always trusted you with my life.” He embraced me and we hugged like brothers do, patting one another’s backs at the same time. “I trust your instincts. Let’s do it.”
“I’m not even going to tell you about Max’s other idea for us to do legitimate business until we have the steakhouses up and running. It's going to take all our resources at first to get that going.”
“Nah, please don’t. I can wait. My fucking head is hurting already, and I think I’m getting an ulcer too, so save that revelation for another time. I'm still digesting how you fucking steamrolled me into agreeing to the chain of steakhouses.” He patted my back good-naturedly. Yeah, we were solid again. Till our next fallout, at least.
Chapter Sixty-Seven — Jade
I’d had enough of hospitals for a lifetime. Ryder was picking me up at eleven and taking me home.
Home. Where exactly that was, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t belong back at my parents’ place, and although a lot of my stuff was at the house in Malibu where Ryder stayed most of the time, I felt unsettled that I didn’t really have a place that was mine.
I’d dressed in the jeans and shirt Mom had brought me, and brushed my hair. I had to tuck the shirt in to fill the gaps so that the pants didn’t look too big on me. I tightened the belt an extra notch and smiled. Now I knew where to come if I needed to lose weight. Hospital food did it to me every time.
I applied lip gloss, smacked my lips, and waited, my bag with my few belongings by my feet. I checked my watch—only two minutes had passed since I last looked but it felt so much longer than that.
Where is Ryder?
Tapping my foot, I flicked through a magazine, only looking at the pictures. A few minutes later I smiled and looked up toward the door—heavy boots squelched on the tiled floors and were getting closer.
At last.
“Hey, babe, ready to get out of here?” Ryder sounded as happy as I felt.
He leaned down to kiss me. I placed my arms around his neck and he hauled me up into his arms, lifting me off the floor.
“Sparrow. You’re fading away.”
“Sparrow?” I laughed. “What happened to bitch and Princess?”
“Today, you’re Sparrow. I need to take care of you and get you fattened up.” He leaned closer to my ear. “You’ll need your energy for when I fuck you . . . which is going to be all the time. And I like you with meat on, something to hold on to. It makes you feel soft, and I like that. Don’t fade away on me.”
Ryder. He was never going to change. Brutal honesty was his trademark, and I loved it. I'd already thanked the staff and said my goodbyes, so when Ryder picked up my bag to leave, I hooked into his arm and left without looking back.
Stubborn as always, Ryder had chosen to discard his crutches, walking with a slight limp. I chuckled: it would take more than a bullet in the thigh to slow Ryder Knox down.
He lifted me into the SUV and kissed my hair before closing the door. I buckled up, looking forward to finally being with my man again.
As we drove up to the house, I noticed my parents’ car in the driveway.
“Ryder? What’s going on?”
He grinned and placed his hand on my knee, squeezing it. “Surprise. I invited them over for lunch. They’re eager to see you.”
I swallowed hard. “You . . . called them?”
He grinned. “Yeah, babe, I got your mom’s number off your phone and called. Since it's a Sunday, she was more than happy to come over and drag your dad along too.”
“Wait. Let me get this straight . . . they’re both here? For lunch? Is there food in the house?” I clapped my hands with glee—finally we were taking a step in the right direction. But every celebration needed good food. And drinks.