to throw up.
From our bedroom, where I had been lying down, the door buzzer sounding meant our meal had arrived. While listening to the muffled voices, dread mixed with the queasiness. I now hated mealtimes and prayed this would pass sooner than later. Unfortunately, that damn book I kept on my nightstand warned that for some women morning sickness could continue past the first trimester.
A few minutes later, Ryder poked his head in. Upon seeing that I was awake, he came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Ready to eat?”
“No,” I answered truthfully. “What are we trying tonight?”
“I ordered you baked salmon and brown rice.”
“Okay,” I said with as much enthusiasm as if he’d said he’d ordered a baked rat. “What are you having?” Ryder refraining from eating any of his favorites, and watching him suffer through a bland, boring diet because of me, forced my intervention. I made him promise he would order whatever he wanted, and he agreed as long as he ate it out of my sight. But regardless of our agreement, his pause meant he didn’t want to say, “Honey, it is what it is. Tell me.”
“Steak and fries. And don’t argue with me… I’m eating it on the balcony.”
“Stubborn man,” I said with an eye roll.
My stomach chose that moment to grumble. That meant nothing. It wasn’t my appetite that suffered any. At hearing it, he grinned and offered his hand to help me out of bed. “Come… let’s see if salmon is the winner.”
I kept the bleh to myself. Strangely enough, it was the thought of his steak that appealed. We stepped into the kitchen, and no sooner had he removed the lid off the aluminum take-out container than the smell hit, and bile rose. “Shit,” I managed before clamping a hand over my mouth. Ryder again watched in horror as I dry heaved over the sink.
His look when I faced him crushed me. “This is normal, Ryder.”
“I know… that doesn’t make it any less of a torment to witness.” He took the meal I abandoned to the sink and flushed it down the garbage disposal. “I guess it’s pasta and butter again for you.”
Once he situated me at the island with my gourmet entrée, he went out to the balcony to eat his dinner, with Kayla following behind. From my position, I watched him cut into his steak with little enthusiasm and slide a perfectly cooked slice into his mouth.
Like a bolt of lightning, desire for a taste shot through me. Assuming it was a fluke, I continued to stare, only for it to worsen with each bite he took. When my stomach rumbled again, I tossed my fork into the blah pasta and stormed out toward the balcony.
He looked up with a scowl. “Baby… I’m not coming in to—”
“Hush.” His eyes tracked me as I snagged the steak-laden fork out of his hand and gobbled it up. The satisfied moan I released caused his mouth to fall open in shock.
“Meat? You want meat?”
With a mouthful, I said, “Ah-par-went-lee.” Each chew released a burst of deliciousness into my mouth until a swallow had me craving more. “When did steak become so delicious?”
He didn’t bother with a response. Instead, he plopped me on his lap before sawing into the filet, offering me another bite and then another. The pattern continued until every bit of his steak and most of his fries were gone.
“That settles it. You’re no longer a pescatarian.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryder
June
My life was almost perfect. To clarify, everything between Riana and I was flawless. Living with her had been the best decision I’d ever made, second to pushing her back into my life. I found a renter for my condo, which gave me a monthly income. Like Riana, I owned my place, and since my home was now in Fort Lauderdale, she was right in that having the apartment sitting empty was a waste. Everything was great.
Unfortunately, what made my days less than ideal was how badly my agency had gotten off to a rocky start. Of the six clients who’d followed me out the door when I left Morton, one of them lagged in signing the contract. Sure enough, when prodded, he finally admitted to having a change of heart. When I further prompted him to explain the real reason, his refusal to do so meant my former boss had gotten to him.
I thought it was strange Doug had been quiet on his end, especially when I hadn’t been slapped