Yes, I checked it out, how could I not?
Behind the kitchen is an extensive deck with more of those amazing views, and since it’s a sunny day, the whole house seems to be filled with warm natural light. Everything is sort of open and cool and modern chic, yet comfortably contemporary. It’s all so very Ryan, and I can only imagine how much this place costs him every month.
I don’t linger in any room long, desire and curiosity to explore the entire house taking over.
The upstairs is more of the same hardwood floors leading into three bedrooms, all a good size except for the master, which is easily twice the size of the other two bedrooms.
Off to one side are windows with unobstructed views of the Sound and mountains, a ginormous king-size bed with a low-profile fabric headboard, and on the far side of the room is a broad, distressed dresser. The walk-in closet is twice the size of my old bedroom in Boston, and what could only be described as the most fan-fucking-tastic bathroom ever finishes off the space.
Warm, strong arms wrap around my waist as I stare almost blankly out the window at the view I could easily see myself looking at for the rest of my life.
“What do you think?” Ryan asks, his nose gliding shamelessly through my hair to my neck.
“I think it’s beautiful.”
“I think you’re beautiful,” he says, nuzzling into me, my body automatically melting into him. “What are you in the mood for, love?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Did you want to go and check out your new neighborhood?”
“Sure. We could find the best places to eat and grocery stores. Crap like that. Or I could take you out to see what the city has to offer? Since we’re here an extra day early, we have more time before I have to get back to the real world.”
“Whatever you want to do, Ryan. It’s your new home.”
“It could be your new home as well.”
“I know.”
He leaves it at that, taking my hand and leading me outside. We end up standing on the sidewalk in front of his house. “Now what?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Dude, you’re the computer guy. Look it up,” I smirk.
He pokes me in the ribs, and then after punching something into his phone, we set off, heading down the street and to the right. We end up on a main street that is filled with restaurants, shops, and a high-end natural grocery store.
“You hungry, Katie?” he asks as we stop in front of a Thai place.
“Stupid question, my friend. I’m always hungry. Lead on.”
“Have I told you that Thai food is my favorite?” he asks after we’re seated in the nicer-than-expected restaurant.
“You have not, and I feel a little shortchanged that I’m just finding this out now, after living in a car with you for more than three weeks.”
He laughs, taking a sip of his water. “What’s yours?”
“Seriously?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
“What? You never said something specific, just that you like everything.”
“Fine. I guess if I had to pick a favorite I’d say tapas.”
“Really?” he asks, surprised.
“Yeah. There was this restaurant in Boston. Holy hell. The food was amazing. Like straight from Spain amazing. Eric and I used to try and go there on date nights a lot, but it was a tiny place and one could not make reservations, so if you went, you waited. Not the best when you have a toddler at home with a babysitter.”
“No,” his eyes widen as he thinks about this. “I imagine not.”
“But yeah, I love Spanish tapas.”
“Would you ever want to go?”
“Where?”
“To Spain?”
I snort. “To Spain?” I repeat, a little surprised by his question. “Sure. I’d love to travel the world a bit. Never really had the chance.”
“But you do now.” Why does he have to sound so sad when he says that?
I nod in agreement. “I do. And I suppose I also have the means, but I’m not about to do it. It’s the sort of thing I’ve always wanted to do with someone. Not alone.”
“So if I said I’d like to travel the world with you, you would say…,” he trails off, tilting his head at me.
“I would say you don’t like to fly an hour, let alone several, so I’m not sure how feasible that is.”
“They have drugs I could take. You’re avoiding my question, Katie.”
I am. Damn his observant ways. “Of course, I would love to explore the world with you, Ryan. Wanting to be with you isn’t the issue here.”
“Ah. So you admit there is an issue then?”
I sigh, rubbing my hands up and down my face. I don’t want to have this discussion now. I want to enjoy the day with him.
“You want to do this now?” I ask through my hands.
“That depends on how the conversation is going to turn out.” He’s silent for so long that I drop my hands and look at him. “When do you plan to leave?” He knows. I hate that he knows, and yet I’m a little relieved at the same time.
“Tomorrow?” I sit back in my chair, taking a sip of my water because my mouth is so freaking dry suddenly.
“And where do you think you’ll go?”
“I’m not sure exactly.”
“Are you still looking for a place you want to move to?” He’s so stoic and reserved that I can’t read him. I can’t tell where this is going.
“No.” It’s the truth. I’m not. I just need…
“So you’ve found a place you think you want to move to?” He’s leaning back in his chair too, but his arms are folded across his chest, hard and unrelenting in their power and the way they keep us at a distance. Or maybe they’re just protective.
“I think so.”
“And it’s not here? With me?” His tone is growing austere. Angry even.
Don’t do this, Ryan. Not yet.
“I didn’t say that,” I protest quickly. “I didn’t. I just need—”
“More time,” he finishes for me, annoyed.
I nod. “Yes.”
“So was that whole “I love you too” thing bullshit? A way to keep me calm on the plane?”
“No,” I say, shocked and indignant that he’d go there. “Of course not.”
“So you’re saying that you love me, you just can’t be with me?”
Fuck. “Not right now, no.”
“But you think maybe someday?” He’s so pissed. I don’t blame him, but still. It’s hard to hear and hard to see, and hard to handle.
The waiter interrupts us and we place our orders, though my appetite is almost completely gone. When he leaves, I can see Ryan is waiting for my answer.
So I guess he does want to do this now.
“I love you, Ryan. I do. So much.” His harsh expression doesn’t alter because he can feel the but coming. “But you said it yourself on the plane. Mrs. Taylor. In my mind I’m still married to Eric, and I don’t know how to shut that off. I don’t know how to reconcile loving two men and how that works. How to love you the way you deserve while not betraying Eric or his memory.” I’m wringing my fingers in my lap.