Chapter 6

Whitney

I'm sitting at my kitchen table with my latest client file in front of me, earbuds in, and Spotify on. When I'm stressed this is what I do best, bury myself in work and let the stress go. Now that the pregnancy has been confirmed, I have a surge of energy I haven't had in weeks. It makes me want to get back to work. Whitney's Weddings has become one of the most sought after wedding and event planning businesses in the Birmingham area. I serve all the small surrounding counties and have handled events all the way to Gulf Shores and Orange Beach, as well. My business is growing, it's become enough that I'm making more money and living better than I was when I was married.

Which makes me smile, because it was a big issue that Stephen held over my head for the longest time. I couldn't take care of myself. There wouldn't be money for vacations, or the manicures and pedicures I enjoy. How wrong he was – I've thrived without his negativity.

I reach down to cup my non-existent bump and I make a promise to myself and this child. I will not fail us, I will do whatever it takes to make our lives work. For years I've lived my life for other people, but now I'm doing whatever it takes to make me happy. For so long I've made the fairy tale for other people, it's time I make the fairy tale for myself – even if there isn't a Prince Charming in the picture. A vision of Ryan flashes before me, but I shake my head. There's no way in this world we could work out. Instead, I'm going to do what makes me happy.

Which is planning weddings.

I pick up the white piece of fabric the bride has chosen for her tablecloths and hold it against a rose gold place setting. The bride requested elegant and I love the way this looks together. Hoping that she does too, I lean down and make notes in the notebook I have specified for this wedding. Noticing that I've made another note to check a local vendor for customized necklaces, I pick up my phone and begin typing out a message to a friend who works there. One thing this business has given me is an extended network of women who are changing the world with a smartphone, Wi-Fi, and a little bit of imagination. It's a great time to be a woman in business, and I'm proud to be one of them.

It's then I feel someone watching me. This is a feeling I know all too well. It's one I grew accustomed to in my marriage. Swallowing against the lump that's formed in my throat, I turn around, facing where I feel the gaze coming from. When I see Ryan, I scream and jump a mile in my chair.

"Ryan, what the hell are you doing in here?" I ask, putting my hand to my heart, realizing it's beating fast enough to give me a heart attack. "I thought we were meeting later on."

"Yeah," he gives me a smile that I can only describe as smart ass. "I did too, but when you didn't answer the door, I decided to let myself in," he holds up a tool that I've seen Trevor use on occasion.

Glancing down at my phone, I realize I got so involved in my work that I completely lost track of time, but it doesn't excuse what he's done. Letting a man run all over me isn't something I'm going to allow to happen again. Too many years I've wasted, and I refuse to do it any longer. "You broke into my house? You broke the law you're bound to uphold."

"Let myself in," he corrects me. "I was worried you were avoiding me."

I can see where he's coming from and at least he's not feeding me a line about worrying for my safety. I'm sure Trevor's told him that I've learned to take care of myself. One of the first things I did after getting divorced was take self-defense classes and got my concealed carry license. "I simply lost track of time," I'm apologetic and I hope he realizes that it had nothing to do with him.

"Mind if I have a seat?" he indicates the seat across from me at the table.

I shake my head no. I'd rather our conversation be in my own space, where I have control over the situation. Control is something I've lacked so often in my life. Now I hang onto it with both hands and refuse to let it go. Quickly grabbing the materials off the table, I put them into the labeled box that I have for every client. "I'm sorry, when I work sometimes it's to the detriment of everything else."

"Trevor told me your business is doing well," he smiles softly at me as he has a seat.

"It is," I try not to notice how big he is sitting at my dining room table, how much room he takes up. If I let myself notice that, then I get too deep inside my head and I scare myself. Ryan is not here to hurt me. He had the perfect chance, and he didn't take it. With my back to him, earbuds in, and completely engrossed in what I was doing, he could have done anything he wanted. Instead, he let me work and simply watched. While it creeps me out a little, I know above all I can trust him. He's never given me a reason not to, and if I'm honest with myself – breaking in like that is something Trevor would have done. "I can, without a doubt, take care of myself and this baby."

There, I've thrown down the gauntlet, and my hands are shaking as I grip the edges of the table. Taking a stand isn't easy when you've been verbally beaten down every other time you tried to do it. I'm proud as I hide the shaking of my hands and keep my bottom lip stiff.

Renegade

She's skittish as a newborn colt, and I'm doing my best not to frighten her. The way she's been reacting to me tells me her marriage must have been hell for her. It must have been a situation she hadn't been able to escape, and I'm immediately pissed at Trevor. He should have gotten her out before it did this much damage. I've seen this all too often with domestic cases we've worked.

"I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself and the baby," I tell her, my voice soft and coaxing, doing my best not to spook her. This is out of character for me, I'm used to taking whatever I want, but there's one thing I've learned in the professions I've had. You have to make people trust you; you can't go in guns blazing and expect them to not see you as an overbearing asshole. "But I'm prepared to help."

"Ryan," her voice is raspy and I watch as she adjusts herself in her seat, pushing her back up straighter and folding her hands in front of her. This is an ice queen pose if I've ever seen one. "You're in the prime of your life, I don't expect you to take on this responsibility."

"That's too damn bad, because I happen to think this is the biggest responsibility in life that I have," my voice is harder than I mean for it to be. I try to talk myself down, Whitney doesn't know my past like Trevor does. She has absolutely no idea what this whole situation means to me, and I'm not about to lay my soul bare to her right now. The words she's just spoken tells me that she sees me as nothing more than a boy, playing the role of a man. That's fine. I can prove it to her, how serious I am. I've had to prove my worth to almost everyone in my life. I'm not scared to prove it to her.

"I don't want to force you into a situation that you don't want to be in," she tries again, this time giving me that bullshit tone that people use to placate you when they've pissed you off.

I put my hand on top of hers, trying to ignore the electricity that sparks between us. It's palpable and I have a feeling it could burn both of us if we aren't careful. "Don't tell me what you're forcing me to do, what you think I'm prepared for, or what you think I can handle," I soften my own voice. "I haven't told you how to feel about this situation. Don't tell me how to feel about it."

"I don't want anything from you," she tries again, face getting red with either embarrassment or frustration. Right now I'm unsure which it is.

"Whitney," I stop her. I can't sit here and let her push me out of this child's life. My child's life. I can't, not when it means the world to me to be a part of it. "I want everything from you."

I see tears come to her eyes, and I want to kick my own ass.

"Ryan," she brushes the edges of her eyes, cleaning up the mascara that's slightly smudged. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

"I don't want to take it from you," I try to explain. "I want to live it with you."

The look on her face tells me that may scare her even more, and damned if I know how to ease her discomfort, how to make this better, or even how to bridge the gap. Both of us are hanging on to a cliff, and neither one of us want to let go and make the jump.

The set of our jaws match, and at this moment I think we both realize how strong the other is.