A Moment (25 page)

I lick the inside of my lip. “And? What conclusion did you come to?”

Pulling back, she runs her finger along my jaw.

“That no one’s perfect, that maybe there was a good reason for all that. That maybe I should just leave because I could never let Javi see that. Your fighting doesn’t bother me, Ryan, it’s the secret I know you’re keeping. It’s the fear that one day you’ll snap and maybe hurt me.” Her voice quieted with the last bit.

My fingers clench into her thigh.

“Never.” I shake my head, having to make her undestand. “Never, Angel. I’d kill myself first.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and I realize my poor choice of words.

“What I meant to say was--”

“Stop, Ryan. Up until a couple months ago, I hadn’t even been thinking about that night. Because you gave me no reason to. But I know whatever caused you to do that last Valentine’s Day is still lingering, still waiting and all I want to know is, can I trust you with my heart?”

I love this woman so much.

“Because I have to tell you,” she continues, “I’m pretty sure it’s already yours.”

Crossing my heart, I look her square in the eye and say as solemnly as I can, “You won’t regret it.”

“I hope not, Ryan. I really do.”

Laying her head back on me, I stroke the outside curve of her ribs, looking but not really seeing the patterns on the screen, it’s all just chaos in my head.

Can I do this?

I’d thought I’d been doing so good.

Until the night the dreams returned. Then I’d become the other guy, the messed up loser who didn’t know how to function in society.

I wanted to prove to her that I was better than this. Better than the man she’d seen in the ring last night.

As I rub her back, I pray.

I haven’t done it in years, because if there is a God, I don’t think he gives a damn about me. But I’m terrified of losing her and I’ll take any sort of advantage at this point.

I ask him to show me how to fix this. Not just with Lili, but fix me. Make me not hate myself so much, not want to kill my uncle, learn to let it go, to forget and breathe and not give that man any more power over my life.

But if he hears me, I don’t know it.

“So next week’s Thanksgiving,” she peers at me from beneath her lashes. “What are you and Alex doing?”

“Coming here?” I raise my brow hopefully.

“You better.” She pats my chest.

Chapter 20

Liliana

Javi’s in the back seat, it’s a beautiful, nippy
Texas
night. Since last night we’ve been doing that sort of tap dancing on eggshells thing, all awkward glances and shy smiles and a million questions burning my brain.

I haven’t forgotten, but I really do believe Ryan is going to try. Do I buy that it was just that arrogant ass calling me a puta that set him off? Not entirely. Because I’ve seen men fight before. There’s always a certain level of bravado and machismo associated with it, but not the blank, disassociated look that still makes me tremble remembering it.

But if I keep thinking about that, I’ll go absolutely insane. The heart wants what it wants, that’s what everyone says and I guess it’s true, because I know I’m finding reasons not to tackle the root of him.

And deep down I think it’s because the second I do, I’ll have to make a choice. An absolute yes or no. There won’t be any shades of gray for us.

Another Fleetwood song drifts softly through the speakers and I smile seeing Ryan tap the steering wheel with his fingers.

If I let myself, I can sometimes believe I really can have it all.

He’d slept at my house last night. Mama had been surprised, Javi had worn a secret smile all morning.

Forging ahead seemed like the way to go with this thing. Don’t look back, don’t analyze, just move and breathe and remember that today is a new day.

We’d been in the car almost an hour and a half by this point, my butt’s growing numb. Shifting on my seat, trying to get blood to circulate through my legs again, I wiggle my toes.

“You excited to go ice skating, Javier?” Ryan glances in the rearview.

I love how he always tries to include my son in the conversation. There are so many things about Ryan that I love.

Glancing over my shoulder, I grin as Javi’s slight frame trembles with anticipation beneath his blue jean jacket.

Ryan twines his fingers through mine, bringing them to his lips. “We good?”

He’d been asking me variants of that all morning. I feel bad that he’s so insecure about us, but I can’t say I blame him. I’m feeling the exact same way. “Baby, when we’re not, I promise to tell you so.”

Smile tight, he turns onto the Schlitterbahn exit. Soon we’re parking and Javi’s literally wiggling in his seat.

He hated water, but never minded the frozen kind. For two months out of every year the water park turns itself into a Wintery Wonderland. The entire façade gets decorated with pines and lights, the smell of buttery popcorn and spicy hot chocolate tease my senses.

Walking through the gates, sun setting slowly behind us, bright white lights glowing like fireflies all around, I forget this is
Texas
.

A huge red and white arrow with large childish print on it reads: North Pole.

Rubbing his hands together, Javi tilts up on his toes. His eyes wide and glassy and flitting between my feet and the rosy red cottage a hundred meters down the gentle slope.

Slipping on white mittens, I pat them together. “I think he wants to see Santa. You mind?”

Ryan shakes his head. “Course not, this night is for him. Whatever he wants.”

Javi and his bionic ears, the moment he hears our agreement he’s dashing downhill, though making sure to give wide berth to anyone walking too close beside him.

Gripping my fingers, Ryan drags me after him.

By the time we get to him, I’m breathless with laughter. The entrance to Santa’s tent has white flakes shooting from a small black box affixed to the corner.

Holding out his hand, Javi studies the dots of manufactured snow that fall into it.

Thankfully, Santa isn’t pulling kids onto his lap. This Santa is reading and it’s one of Javi’s favorites: The Christmas Story.

The actor playing the part couldn’t have looked more perfect, round and pink cheeked with a huge fluffy white beard. Javi sits in front of him, crossing his legs, and completely smitten-- hanging onto each and every word as he stares at Santa’s big black boots.

Leaning into Ryan, I whisper, “He needed this I think.”

Turning me in his arms, he encircles my waist and the memory of that night in the back of his car comes flooding back to me. A gathering warmth undulates through me, makes me ache and lean deeper into him.

“I think we all did.” He fluffs my hair, white powder drifts off it. “Close your eyes.”

I close them and he fluffs at my lashes too.

“Thanks,” I say, or at least I think I did. But the moment I look back at him, the words die on my tongue.

His eyes are bluer than I’ve ever seen them and he’s speaking to me. A conversation with no words, it’s coming from deep in his soul.

He looks so sad, so honest, and broken that I all I can do is nod and slip my hands under his shirt, sliding them up his warm back and pressing my flat palms tight to it.

Jaw clenching, muscle ticking, he kisses my brows, my forehead, and then lightly touches his lips to my nose.

And each touch is a question.

Do you love me?

Do you love me?

Do you love me?

My heart is a giant beating thing and each beat is an answer.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

A clearing throat and a low chuckle breaks the spell. I look up to see Santa wearing a smirk and a knowing twinkle. “
Reading
’s done.”

Ryan doesn’t release my hand.

Javi’s up and moving down the tent, studying the dozens of Christmas trees surrounding Santa’s golden throne, each one themed differently.

One is clearly meant to scream
Texas
. From the rusted out cowbells, to the brightly painted red, white, and blue steer ceramic skulls, to the cranberry and poinsettia ornaments plastered all over it.

I point to one that has nothing but a dazzling display of thousands of miniature lights.

“Look, Javi.”

“I think he’s a little busy,” Ryan whispers in my ear.

“Figures.” I smirk, watching as my son stares in awe at a tree decorated with nothing but superhero ornaments.

His small face is shining, cheeks flushed, and his rosebud mouth a perfect ‘o’ as he reaches out to handle the figurine of a spider-man crouched, slinging a web between his legs.

“Are these for sale?” Ryan asks an elf walking past.

Plump and gray, the woman smiles and slides her glasses up her nose with a pudgy finger. “Not really.”

She looks at Javi for a while before her eyes narrow. “Autistic?” she asks after a beat, then turns to me. I’m not sure what expression I’m wearing, but she pats my shoulder. “So’s my granddaughter. Odd the things that catch their fancy, huh?”

Ryan digs into his back pocket. “I’ll pay whatever, he just really likes it.”

I feel all squishy inside and find myself wishing we were just a tiny bit closer to home. Making love to him, it’d opened a dam that I didn’t want to seal back up again.

“Look,” grandma elf glances both ways, “I’m the boss tonight and I don’t think my boss is going to miss one small spider-man ornament.” Winking, she reaches over Javi’s head and slips it off the branch, handing it to him.

Javi’s breathing hitches as he takes it from her, fingers gliding along its shiny front.

“Thank you,” I breath.

“Ah,” she waves me off, “makes me happy, and it’s almost Christmas after all, right?” With a wave, she walks off.

“Cocoa?” Ryan asks.

“Javi? You want some?”

I expected him to just start walking, what I did not expect was for him to nod. Everything inside of me goes utterly still. My feet are blocks of cement, my pulse rolling like thunder.

“Did he just?” Ryan jerks his thumb at Javi.

“You saw that too?”

We smile at the same time. I want to hug Javier, pick him up and twirl him around, cuddle him to my breasts and make up for so many lost years.

I must have started walking, because I’m gently tugged back into Ryan’s chest. “Don’t rush this, Lili.”

Swallowing hard, I force myself to stay put. “You’re right, I’m just… I’ve never seen him respond, Ryan. Not like that.”

He brushes my bangs behind my ears with his knuckle, making me shiver.

“Well, it is almost Christmas.” His smile makes my pulse stutter. I no longer even notice the scars on his face, they’re nothing more than a matrix. Like a framework of strings on a loom, that if you look you can pick out each individual strand, but step back and that’s when you see the full beauty of the picture. “Time for a miracle, right?”

I laugh when Javi grunts and turns, walking out the entrance of the tent.

“Guess, he wants that cocoa.” I sniff, wiping my nose with the back of my mittened hand.

The cocoa’s lukewarm, and not all that great, but that doesn’t stop Javier from enjoying it. He now sports a giant whipped cream mustache.