Page 51 of Clashing

Scarlett

One month later

I tried to focus on the salad I was making, but two holes burned into the side of my head. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He didn’t stop. He never stopped. He was relentless.

“I’m serious.” I glared down at Grayson, who sat beside me, waiting for scraps. “I’m not supposed to feed you outside your normal meal regimen. You know this.”

Grayson licked his chops, and his whip-like tail wagged swiftly against the tiles.

How am I supposed to say no? “Oh, fuck it.” I plucked a piece of chicken, and Grayson’s eyes bugged, drool dripping from his mouth. “Don’t tell Ryker.”

The moment I tossed Grayson the chicken, and he chomped it, Demon leapt from his bed in the living room and skittered into the kitchen, tail wagging and puppy eyes in full force. I pursed my lips. He sat and flicked his tail.

“Fine, but I’m serious! Don’t tell Ryker.” I flung a piece of chicken to Demon, who jumped to catch it. “Now shoo. You’ll get me in trouble.”

At least this time, they listened. Ryker repeatedly lectured me that they’d listen better if I showed consistency by not giving them scraps, but damn . How could anyone say no to those faces?

The rumble of an approaching engine curved a smile on my lips. I peered out the windows overlooking the front yard and access road. Ryker pulled in on his motorcycle, and a few seconds later, the familiar groan of the garage sounded below.

After our first date, Ryker asked me to move in with him. I couldn’t deny I wanted out of that apartment. Plus, I couldn’t deny I wanted to spend more time with him. Maybe it was crazy that I’d said yes, but maybe we’d always been a little unconventional.

Telling Dan went better than I’d hoped. He understood the apartment was tainted now and wanted me out of there as much as Ryker did. With the help of Ryker’s friends, I was out within two days.

Living with Ryker opened a new door for us.

Sure, we had our small bickers, like any couple moving in together, but we resolved them as quickly as they started.

The occasional disagreements were nothing compared to all the positives.

Our intimacy ascended to a heightened level as we uncovered new layers of vulnerability, especially as we both worked through therapy.

While he’d been seeing a counselor, today was his first day in group therapy. Hence the special dinner.

As soon as the door to the garage opened, the dogs bolted. My heart swelled as they preened under Ryker’s attention. I’d never get tired of seeing that adorable, soft side of him.

“Hey, sugar.” He circled the kitchen island and approached me from behind, arms encircling my waist. “What are you making?”

“Chicken carbonara.” I angled my head to meet his lips with mine. “You said you wanted to try it.”

“Smells fucking amazing.” He spun me around and pushed his forehead to mine. “What’s the occasion?”

“You taking the group therapy plunge.” I draped my arms over his shoulders and twisted my finger in his hair. “I’m proud of you.”

“Well, shit, if you’re going to cook a nice dinner every time I go, maybe I’ll go more times a week.”

My breath hitched when his lips planted on my jaw. My neck. His hands roamed over my spine and slipped into my back pockets.

My eyes fluttered as he placed a hot kiss against my pulse. “How’d it go?”

“Good.” His lips lifted to my cheek. “Real good. Thanks for encouraging me.”

“Always.” I hugged him and settled my head against his chest, where the even beat of his heart warmed mine. “I’m glad it went well.”

“Did you feed the dogs again?”

“What?” My head snapped up and I pulled away to check food I didn’t need to check. “Of course not. You asked me not to.”

He grasped my chin and turned my face toward him. “Are you lying to me, Scarlett?”

I shrank under a pout. “They were giving me puppy eyes.”

He clicked his tongue and let me go. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“What’s wrong with them getting a treat? They’re good dogs!”

“What am I going to do with you?”

I winked and flitted to the salad I needed to finish. “Whatever you want as soon as we’re done with dinner.”

“Fucking tease.” He swatted my ass, and I squealed. “Danny called and asked if I could install the new grill tomorrow.” He pecked my cheek, then sat on a stool across from me. “I’m assuming you wanna come sit with him while I do that?”

“Yeah, I talked to him already. Oh, and I have to go out of town in two weeks.” I dumped my chopped cucumber, carrot, tomato, and onion into the bowl of lettuce. “Art show with René. I’m not in it. I’m helping out.”

Ryker leaned forward on his forearms, and I caught my lip between my teeth. He made the simplest actions sexy. “For how long?”

“Four days. It’s an extended weekend thing. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Can I come with you?”

Butterflies tickled my stomach. “You want to?”

“I do.”

“I thought art wasn’t your thing unless it’s mine.”

“I want to go to be with you.” Melt. “Besides, I’m appreciating it more thanks to you.”

Cheeks warming, I tossed the salad. I’d never been with someone so supportive of my passions. When I moved in, Ryker took the week off to renovate an art studio with fantastic natural lighting so I had my own quiet space to work. It was my favorite place in the house. Next to our bedroom, that is.

“I’d love for you to come.”

His lips twitched into a half-smile that never failed to weaken me. “Yeah?”

My blush intensified. The hold he had on me continued to grow, blossoming into something unexpected.

My muse. When I showed René my drawings of him—approved by Ryker first, of course—she gasped and told me this was it.

This was the masterwork she knew I had in me.

Where I poured raw emotions, vulnerability, pain, and healing into every stroke.

She was hosting a show for me in a few months. The subject: my own personal muse.

That muse only tried to distract me a couple times before dinner, but he couldn’t resist my cooking. To be fair, I couldn’t resist his either. He was a fabulous cook. We took turns and technically tonight was his turn, but I wanted to show support for his first day in group therapy.

The nice thing about living with Ryker was he couldn’t stand things to not be neat, but he didn’t hound me about it.

He did it himself. The second we finished eating, he jumped up to do dishes.

He always did, but I’d never been one to sit around.

We fell into an unspoken agreement of him washing dishes and me drying and putting them away.

Once we were done, I dragged him to the bedroom to make him help me pick a dress for an art show the next day. He sat on the bed and pouted like a child with his arms crossed.

“You said I could do whatever I wanted with you after dinner,” he grumbled.

“Stop being such a baby. The more you cooperate, the less time it’ll take.” I held a black dress on a hanger against my body. “What about this one?”

“Scarlett, they all look good. It doesn’t matter what you wear, you’ll look fucking gorgeous. Pick any damn dress.” He patted his lap. “Then get your ass over here.”

I posted a hand on my hip. “You’re not helping.”

“Why are you asking me? Ask Hannah.”

“Okay, fine.” I lifted a shoulder. “I’ll call Hannah and ask her to come over right now, and she’ll probably have a drink.” I hung the dress in the closet and retrieved my phone from my pocket. “Meaning she’ll probably stay late. Maybe even spend the night. We won’t be alone all night.”

He leapt off the bed and stole my phone. “I like the black one.”

“Which black one?”

“The—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The second one.”

I narrowed my eyes. “The second dress was green.”

“The second black dress.”

I snorted and pulled out the dress with a plunging neckline. “This one?”

“I like that one when I’m with you, but I won’t be there until later.” He took it from me and hung it up, then plucked a different hanger. A red dress. His red dress, I should probably call it. “What about this one?”

“Uh, no, not that one.” I lunged for it, but he held it out of my reach.

“Why not? I like this one a lot .”

“Yeah, you like that one a little too much.” I stretched on my toes, but Ryker grabbed my waist and raised the dress higher.

“What’s wrong, Scarlett? Afraid I’ll end up fucking you at another art show?”

My face burned. “I’m never wearing that dress in public again.”

“Oh, come on. I love this dress on you.”

“You love it, huh?” I never got tired of him telling me he loved me, and now the word stood out anytime he used it.

“Yeah.” He hung the dress on the closet door, then hauled my body to his. “I love it.” His stare infiltrated every pore, like it had the first time I saw him.

“Fine. I’ll wear that one if you love it so much.”

“Wear what you want, baby.” He snatched my jaw. “I love anything you put on. Put on pajamas for all I care.”

“Want me that badly, huh?”

“I’ll always want you.” He lowered his lips to mine, and my heart stopped as it waited. I could always tell when he was going to say it. I could see it in his eyes. “I love you, Scarlett.”

My smile stretched so wide, my cheeks ached. “I love you too.” I fisted his shirt and stood on my toes to brush my lips against his. “So much.”

He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist while he carried me to the bed. He pressed his lips to mine and spoke against them before he kissed me. “You’re in my veins, Scarlett. I’ll spend every day loving you more.”

The kiss radiated through more than my body. That kiss was everything . Everything in the way I felt it everywhere, and this time I didn’t only feel it physically.

This time, it radiated through my heart. My soul. In parts of me I hadn’t known were there but blossomed to show me this love I had with him wasn’t going anywhere, despite all we’d been through. Despite the fighting and the tears. Despite the hard moments.

Love wasn’t always sunshine. Love was never letting go, even if lightning in a storm was the only guide out of the darkness.

Ryker and I? We were forever.