Love Unrehearsed
Page 115
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I smiled. “I know you do. I love you more.”
That earned me a trademarked lip smirk nose wrinkle. “You think Tammy hooked them up?”
I hated to think the worst of people, especially friends in my closest circle, but over the years I’d seen so many show me their dark side that I now knew even the sweetest, the kindest could turn horrid.
Speaking of people turning horrid, I was just about to shut the lid on Ryan’s laptop if I had to listen to another minute of his manager’s condescending bullshit during their online video conference.
I was having my own conversation with our publicist, Trish, over some changes to Ryan’s schedule when Ryan hammered his fist into the table.
“I lost forty-five grand in the last six months, so you can shove all of the ‘let Mercer handle that’ bullshit. Fucking people need a wake-up call that I am paying attention to my financial statements. If they are incapable of keeping me from losing money then I will find another firm to manage it.”
I was updating my master calendar when Ryan’s elbows hit the table. I heard him end his call and when I looked over, he was holding his head in his hands. He had so many people poking their noses into his business, telling him how to run his life, I wondered how long he’d be able to endure the constant pressure of it all.
I set my pen down and crossed the room.
As soon as he looked up at me, I straddled his thighs, wrapping my arms around his warm, bare shoulders, and pulled him in tightly.
I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on his head, rubbing my fingers over his hair, his neck, while his arms cinched around me.
We sat in silence for a long time, just breathing and being, chasing the insanity away as best we could.
Ryan’s eyes met mine and we softly kissed, reassuring each other with weary smiles.
“Change your mind yet?” he asked warily, locking his thumb through the belt loop of my jeans.
I shook my head, knowing what he was asking. “Never. You’re mine.” That definitely pleased him. He gave me a crooked, unsure look. “Till death do us part?” I gave him a soft kiss. “Maybe just a bit beyond that.”
“So, tell me. Tammy’s stressing out.
Makes me wonder what we’ll be up against when we’re planning our wedding.” I took a little breath. “Honestly? I really don’t want a big to-do, Ryan. I’m thinking sweet and simple.”
“Sweet and simple, huh?”
I nodded. “You know—family and friends.
Romantic. Elegant. Maybe some twinkle lights in the trees.”
He wiggled his thighs, bouncing me a bit.
“Twinkle lights. Okay, what else?”
I paused to think about it. “Outdoors maybe.”
“Like tents and stuff?”
That thought made me wrinkle my nose.
“I don’t think I want the big, white tent thing.”
Ryan scratched his cheek. “You want to do the church thing or . . . ?” I really had no preference. “I’m not set on anything and honestly, I haven’t been in a church since my dad died, so . . . What do you want?”
His noncommittal shrug was the easy way out. “Naked on a beach?”
I frowned and gave him a nudge.
“Really!” he went on. “I don’t know. Outdoors sounds good. Or inside somewhere.
I’m completely open to suggestions.”
“I think we have time to figure it out.
Maybe we should work on living together in sin first.”
Ryan slid his hands over my rear, tensing his fingers. “I like that idea. I started drafting some designs.” Suddenly he was completely rejuvenated, as if he had a new fire burning in his gut. He flipped open the sketchpad he always doodled in.
“All right, time to start designing our house.”
Ryan was back on set filming when I got to talk to my birth father again. We spoke on the phone for almost an hour, neither of us really minding the time. Joe was easy to talk to and although we kept the conversation light and informative, I could tell that his words were filled with regret.
While Ryan filmed, I stayed in his trailer, going over everything from our latest financial statements to picking out front doors for our future house.
Ryan’s set trailer rocked a little when he bounded in. “Hey babe,” he said, eying me over. “What’s going on?”
I watched as he set some papers on the counter. “Oh, where to begin? You sure you want to hear this?”
Ryan took a bottle of cold water out of the small refrigerator. “Not when you start off that way, Taryn. But yeah. Start sharing.”
That earned me a trademarked lip smirk nose wrinkle. “You think Tammy hooked them up?”
I hated to think the worst of people, especially friends in my closest circle, but over the years I’d seen so many show me their dark side that I now knew even the sweetest, the kindest could turn horrid.
Speaking of people turning horrid, I was just about to shut the lid on Ryan’s laptop if I had to listen to another minute of his manager’s condescending bullshit during their online video conference.
I was having my own conversation with our publicist, Trish, over some changes to Ryan’s schedule when Ryan hammered his fist into the table.
“I lost forty-five grand in the last six months, so you can shove all of the ‘let Mercer handle that’ bullshit. Fucking people need a wake-up call that I am paying attention to my financial statements. If they are incapable of keeping me from losing money then I will find another firm to manage it.”
I was updating my master calendar when Ryan’s elbows hit the table. I heard him end his call and when I looked over, he was holding his head in his hands. He had so many people poking their noses into his business, telling him how to run his life, I wondered how long he’d be able to endure the constant pressure of it all.
I set my pen down and crossed the room.
As soon as he looked up at me, I straddled his thighs, wrapping my arms around his warm, bare shoulders, and pulled him in tightly.
I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on his head, rubbing my fingers over his hair, his neck, while his arms cinched around me.
We sat in silence for a long time, just breathing and being, chasing the insanity away as best we could.
Ryan’s eyes met mine and we softly kissed, reassuring each other with weary smiles.
“Change your mind yet?” he asked warily, locking his thumb through the belt loop of my jeans.
I shook my head, knowing what he was asking. “Never. You’re mine.” That definitely pleased him. He gave me a crooked, unsure look. “Till death do us part?” I gave him a soft kiss. “Maybe just a bit beyond that.”
“So, tell me. Tammy’s stressing out.
Makes me wonder what we’ll be up against when we’re planning our wedding.” I took a little breath. “Honestly? I really don’t want a big to-do, Ryan. I’m thinking sweet and simple.”
“Sweet and simple, huh?”
I nodded. “You know—family and friends.
Romantic. Elegant. Maybe some twinkle lights in the trees.”
He wiggled his thighs, bouncing me a bit.
“Twinkle lights. Okay, what else?”
I paused to think about it. “Outdoors maybe.”
“Like tents and stuff?”
That thought made me wrinkle my nose.
“I don’t think I want the big, white tent thing.”
Ryan scratched his cheek. “You want to do the church thing or . . . ?” I really had no preference. “I’m not set on anything and honestly, I haven’t been in a church since my dad died, so . . . What do you want?”
His noncommittal shrug was the easy way out. “Naked on a beach?”
I frowned and gave him a nudge.
“Really!” he went on. “I don’t know. Outdoors sounds good. Or inside somewhere.
I’m completely open to suggestions.”
“I think we have time to figure it out.
Maybe we should work on living together in sin first.”
Ryan slid his hands over my rear, tensing his fingers. “I like that idea. I started drafting some designs.” Suddenly he was completely rejuvenated, as if he had a new fire burning in his gut. He flipped open the sketchpad he always doodled in.
“All right, time to start designing our house.”
Ryan was back on set filming when I got to talk to my birth father again. We spoke on the phone for almost an hour, neither of us really minding the time. Joe was easy to talk to and although we kept the conversation light and informative, I could tell that his words were filled with regret.
While Ryan filmed, I stayed in his trailer, going over everything from our latest financial statements to picking out front doors for our future house.
Ryan’s set trailer rocked a little when he bounded in. “Hey babe,” he said, eying me over. “What’s going on?”
I watched as he set some papers on the counter. “Oh, where to begin? You sure you want to hear this?”
Ryan took a bottle of cold water out of the small refrigerator. “Not when you start off that way, Taryn. But yeah. Start sharing.”
