Ryder (A Merrick Brothers Novel) Page 2

  I could’ve stood there all day. The music, the performance, the stuff of legends. Sometimes it baffles me how talent like this remains hidden in a tent. The guy was taking everyone to church. But then the skies opened up and thunder rolled, forcing everyone spread across the huge outdoor fields to take refuge in the few tents onsite. With everyone jamming themselves in like sardines, someone was bound to recognize me. It’s the last thing I wanted.

  Just when I was going to sneak away, I heard her. She had about half a foot in the tent, but no one was making room for her. I looked around, expecting someone to offer her some help or a seat, but no one did. Seeing her struggling for shelter, I reached over, grabbed her elbow, and pulled her inside to the safety of my corner of the tent. I got a few evil glares from people reluctant to surrender any more space, but I didn’t care. It was a tight squeeze, her body pressed up against mine.

  “Thank you,” she said, inching back, trying to get more room.

  Her hair was soaking wet, so I couldn’t tell its color, but her eyes were a bright blue. Goosebumps covered her skin and mud splattered her legs and shoes. Her cut-off jean shorts and tank top hugged the curves of her petite body. Not even my sunglasses could hide the way my eyes were sliding over her.

  I couldn’t help the grin on my face when I saw she’d covered her plate of food with a sack while she got drenched.

  “I’ve got priorities,” she said, blushing like maybe she regretted saving her food. “Crawfish Monica takes precedence over my hair.”

  “What’s Crawfish Monica?” I asked.

  Her blue eyes grew huge, and she ripped off the sack covering her plate. “Only the best food at the fest, or so I’m told.”

  “First time here?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “You?”

  “First time,” I said.

  “My roommate had an extra ticket. She wanted to see some country act. Merrick something or another.”

  I tried to keep my face neutral. It wasn’t often I talked to people that didn’t know who I was. Normally, when I sneak away, I keep to myself. “You don’t like country music?” I asked.

  She put on her best country twang. “Crying in my beer because my woman is gone, and she took my horse with her music? Nope.”

  I laughed, some truth to what she said. “I see your point.”

  Someone bumped her, pushing her into my chest. On instinct, my arm slid around her waist. “Um, sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be,” I said, releasing her.

  She smiled, revealing two huge dimples. She was a country song if I’ve ever seen one—those cutoff shorts, tight little body, and that sweet smile. That smile—that was all it took to reel me in. Funny thing is, I don’t think she had a clue what she was doing to me.

  “I’m Kailey,” she said.

  “Ry . . . Ryan,” I said, at least truthful about the first syllable, and damning my parents for giving me such a recognizable name.

  The crowd shifted again, pushing her tighter to me. Her pale skin blushed a bright pink. No matter how much I was enjoying having her pressed up against me, I knew she wasn’t comfortable.

  “Everyone’s hiding from the rain,” I said. “I bet that leaves the food lines pretty short. Want to show me where I can get some of that?” I nodded toward her plate. “That is, if you don’t mind a little rain.”

  “I’m already wet,” she said with a smile, then her eyes grew huge. “I meant . . .”

  Unable to control my chuckle, I held out my hand to her, leading her into the storm. When water pelted my sunglasses, I took them off, thankful when she still didn’t recognize me.

  For the next hour, I was just a guy hanging out with a beautiful woman. We pretty much had the place to ourselves, walking from food tent to food tent. She showed me all the food must-eats, and I bought them all for her.

  Between bites and dodging raindrops and puddles, we talked, neither of us caring about the rain, the mud, or anything other than the person in front of us. She was finishing up her master’s degree in a few weeks and currently looking for a job. She had a few interviews, but nothing firm yet. Her parents, both college professors, live in California. Her older sister is married and lives in Southern California. It was all normal, more normal than I’d had in a long time.

  I told her I lived in California, too. She couldn’t believe it. When she asked what I did for a living, I said I was a writer, which wasn’t a total lie. I write my own songs.

  There was a moment when the thunder roared, but instead of running for shelter, she nearly jumped into my arms looking for safety. It was pure instinct. At that point, she reached up and took off my hat, the last piece of my disguise, so I was no longer hiding from the world.

  She placed it on top of her head, teasing me. I pulled her closer, lifting her in the air, and when I leaned in to kiss her, she smiled.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kailey

  “I think he’s insane,” I whisper into my cell phone, my big sister, Addison, on the line.

  I peer into my rear-view mirror, the stadium lights behind me. It’s convenient that his tour ended in L.A., since Addison and her husband live in San Diego, and I’ve been staying in their guest house since graduating. At least the drive there is pretty short.

  “He said my name will be Kailey Merrick soon.”

  “He asked you to marry him?” Addison asks.

  “No, he didn’t ask. More like he just told me.”

  “And you thought he wouldn’t remember you.”

  It was the best sex of my life, but I doubt it was the best of his. After all, he’s Ryder Merrick, the country music rock star. I’m just me. I don’t sing. I don’t dance. I can’t play an instrument to save my life. I’ve never been the prettiest girl in the room. That night with Ryder was the craziest thing I’ve ever done. My normal, average life has taken a huge detour, and I’m not sure where it’s heading.

  I touch my baby bump. I actually wasn’t sure he’d even realize I was pregnant. I’m not huge yet, but I’m pretty short, so lucky me, the baby pooch started early. It’s too soon to feel the baby move, but he or she has already altered the course of my life. I’m so freaking scared. I shouldn’t be. I’m twenty-four with a master’s degree in communication disorders. I’ve got family that loves and supports me. I’m not a teenager. I can do this. I know I can.

  But despite what I said to Ryder, I’m scared shitless.

  I can do a lot, handle a lot, but deep in my soul, I know he’s the one thing I can’t handle. He left me after one night, and it crushed me. It was stupid of me to think that what we shared was anything more to him than sex.

  I didn’t come to win him back. He was never mine.

  I didn’t come to make him fall in love with me. I’m not delusional.

  I came to tell him I’m pregnant. I did that.

  “You just left?” Addison asks, half-laughing, half-scolding me.

  “There was no reason to stay,” I say. Clearly, Ryder Merrick is mentally unstable if he thinks I’m going to marry him just because I’m carrying his child. Geez, I wouldn’t have taken him for the old-fashioned type.

  “From what you just told me, it seems like he wants to be a part of this.”

  “But for how long?” I ask. “I won’t have my son or daughter only have their father around when it’s convenient for him.”

  “I’m not sure that’s really fair,” she says.

  “To who?”

  “Anyone,” she responds. “So what do you plan to tell this baby about his or her dad?”

  “Sperm donor,” I snark, knowing I wouldn’t actually lie. “That’s what he was.” She doesn’t need to call my bluff. I traveled around from city to city trying to be honest with Ryder, when I could’ve easily just had the baby without him ever knowing, but lying isn’t exactly my strong suit. “Okay, I don’t know. I’ve got some time to figure that out.”

  “I wish you’d pull over and get a hotel for the night. It’s so late,” she says. r />
  Addison has been by my side this whole time, listening to my fears, my tears, all my crazy. She’s forever the big sister, offering up advice, making me laugh, taking care of me through my morning sickness.

  She’s worried about me. My parents are, too. I mean, I’m pregnant and have been driving around for the past two weeks following his tour schedule like a crazy person, staying in crap hotels, spending my savings, maxing out my credit cards. My car is old. It’s got so many miles on it that I’m waiting for the speedometer to get tired and stop counting altogether.

  I could’ve called his agent or tried to contact him another way, but I needed to look him in the eye and tell him I’m pregnant. I needed to prove to myself that what I felt that night was one-sided. I thought I’d wake up with him next to me. That’s what he promised. I thought it was the start of something. But instead, I woke up alone. No phone number, no note—nothing.

  “I’ve had enough of hotels,” I say, ending the conversation before hanging up. The drive to San Diego is just a few short hours. There won’t be much traffic this time of the night. Plus, the open road will give me time to think, to remember.

  *

  No man had ever physically picked me up before, but when he kissed me in the rain, his arms went around me, lifting me in the air. He quite literally swept me off my feet. I knew immediately that this was different.

  “Ryan,” I whispered.

  His body tensed, and he put me down. “I have to tell you something.”

  I braced myself for the confession, expecting him to say he was married or had a girlfriend or was an ex-con or some other terrible thing.

  His eyes went over my shoulder, and I turned, seeing a woman throwing her arms up at him, her phone in one hand. “Give me a minute,” he said.

  “If you have a girlfriend or something, just tell me,” I snapped.

  “No,” he said, grabbing my hand. “I work with her. Just give me a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

  His smile glued me to my spot. I watched him walk toward the other woman. He kept turning around to make sure I was still there, grinning at me each time his eyes found mine. If he was involved with her, she didn’t show it, not once glancing my way, almost as though I didn’t even exist. Their entire conversation was less than two minutes. When he looked over at me, his eyes looked worried.

  He put his sunglasses back on as he walked back to me, taking the hat off my head and putting it on his own. “The festival is being cancelled because of the weather.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  He looked toward a restricted area, the way his work colleague had walked. “I need to get out of here before the crowds form and head towards the exits.”

  Taking my hand, he started a fast walk. The mud made it difficult for me to keep up with him. “Do you work with the festival or something?” I asked.

  He glanced back at me. “Can we just get to the exit? I promise then I’ll explain.”

  “No,” I said, releasing his hand.

  “Kailey?”

  An announcement came over the loudspeakers that the festival was cancelled. How did he know that was coming?

  A flood of people started filing out of the tents. It seemed hundreds, then thousands. He took my hand again, trying to get me to follow him. “It was nice to meet you, Ryan, but I think I need to find my friend.”

  “My name’s not . . .”

  “Ryder Merrick!” someone screamed.

  His head darted up in recognition, and my eyes flew to his. “You’re Ryder Merrick?”

  “Yeah, the one whose music you hate,” he teased, looking at a mob of women forming. “Come on, we need to get to the performers’ area.”

  “Performers’ area?”

  “We need to move,” he said.

  “But . . .” He pulled me along. “You lied.”

  “Everything else I told you was the truth.”

  “Except who you are!”

  He glanced at the throngs of fans heading for us. “That isn’t who I am.”

  I don’t know what exactly made me follow him to the safety of the performers’ area. I don’t know what made me get into a limousine with him. I can’t tell you how I ended up standing outside the door of his hotel suite. Stupidity? Shock? Curiosity? Attraction? Love? I really don’t know.

  It wasn’t until he opened the door to his penthouse hotel suite that my senses came back to me. I stood at the doorway, frozen. The suite was bigger than my apartment and certainly nicer. I didn’t own a flatscreen or have a bar or a fireplace or a grand piano, for that matter.

  “Don’t freak out now that you know who I am,” he said, gently taking my hand. “I’m just the guy you hung out with today. That’s it.”

  I shook my head. He wasn’t just some normal guy. Take away the fact that he was the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in person—piercing blue eyes, dark hair, muscles for days, strong hands that know how to make a woman feel like a woman – add in he’s also rich and famous, and I was struck dumb by him. “Still, I’m sure you do this kind of thing all the time.”

  “What kind of thing?” he asked.

  “Pick up women, bring them back to your fancy hotel room.”

  From the look on his face, I knew I was right, but he stepped closer to me, grinning. “I find myself with a rare night off and thought we could . . .”

  “Fuck?” I asked, throwing my hand on my hip.

  He didn’t waver. “Is that what you want?” My mouth fell open, and he pulled me to him. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to decide that yet.” Before I could give him an earful, he started laughing, really laughing. I rolled my eyes hard, and he captured me in his arms. “Stay.”

  “I know how this kind of thing works, and I’m not sure I’m interested,” I said.

  “Then why come here at all?” he challenged.

  I shrugged. “Good story to tell my kids one day.”

  “What if I don’t want to be some one-night stand story?” he asked.

  “What if I don’t want to be some country song about love gone wrong?”

  He inched away from me. “None of my songs use that word.”

  *

  My decision to stay was just one of many that put me on this path. If I’d left then, I wouldn’t be pregnant and driving home alone in the middle of the night.

  It’s after three in the morning when I pull onto my sister’s street. The drive took me much longer than it should have, but I had to stop and pee twice and then I drove past an ice cream shop that was open late, and the baby had a craving. Yes, I blame everything I eat on the baby.

  I see the outside lights of my sister’s house are on, waiting for me. I haven’t been here in almost two weeks, ever since I started following Ryder’s tour like an obsessed groupie instead of his baby momma. It’s good to be back. It’s so nice that Addison and her husband are letting me stay rent free in their guest cottage while I figure out what to do. I found out I was pregnant at the same time I was graduating. My plan was always to return home to California, I just wasn’t expecting to do it with a bun in the oven.

  Employers can’t legally refuse to hire you because you’re pregnant, but it’s not difficult for them to find another excuse. I’ve had a few interviews, but always feel the need to tell them I’m pregnant. I suppose I could leave out that detail, but I’m an honest person, and don’t want to start a job by withholding critical information. So I sit with my new master’s degree and not a job in sight. Luckily, I don’t have any student loans, but I hate mooching off my sister and her husband. Clearly, the whole adulting thing isn’t going great for me.

  I park in the street, so I don’t block them in, then open my trunk. I’ve been living out of one suitcase, doing laundry in cheap hotels for weeks. I start rolling it up the driveway toward the back of the house.

  His blue eyes hit me like a bolt of lightning. Most women would probably kill to find Ryder Merrick waiting by their front door, but I’m not most women. “How’d you find
me?”

  “I had your last name this time,” Ryder says. “Wasn’t hard.”

  Why did I give him my name? That was stupid! Still, I’m at Addison’s house. Damn her for keeping her maiden name! Probably just made it easier for his agent or whoever to track me down.

  “You can’t just show up here,” I say, walking past him toward the guest house. “How’d you even get here? Beat me home?”

  “Private plane,” he says, like anyone should know that.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “You had some TV appearance.”

  “I cancelled,” he says. “Family emergency.”

  That one word stops me long enough for him to step closer. “Leave!” I shout.

  “You came to me,” Ryder says, his voice softening. “You wanted me to know about the baby.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I wanted this!” I wanted to do the “right” thing and tell him. I never dreamed he’d care, or even remember me.

  “What did you think would happen?” he asks.

  “I thought I’d tell you and never see you again.”

  “You really thought I would just leave you alone?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time!” I snap.

  Like an idiot, I’d searched that hotel suite high and low, refusing to believe he didn’t leave me a note, his number, anything. I knew I wasn’t the first woman he’d brought back to his hotel room, but I stupidly believed I was different. I believed he felt something for me. Being book smart clearly doesn’t make me smart when it comes to men.

  “Just admit it. I was your standard one and done. There’s no point in lying about it.”

  “Kailey,” he says, a sharp tone to his voice. “I promise you . . .”

  “You like to make promises you don’t keep,” I say, moving past him to my front door. “This is over.”

  “I’d say this is just the beginning.”

  His hand slowly reaches out, gently landing on my baby bump. I’m struck dumb by him again, but this time, I can’t let it continue. I’m carrying the outcome of the last time my brain abandoned my body.