Page 91 of Ryker

“That includes you,” he adds.

“Me?”

“I never counted how many clients I had back when I…” He drifts for a moment, then shakes his head. “Back then. It would have killed me to know the exact number. And when I opened my club, I stayed away from everyone. I only take a woman to my bed when my nights turn too dark, and I can’t see the light anymore.”

Oh my god. How awful.

“And you… you just came into my world and shook it all up, Tara. Like a fucking snow globe. Only all the little snowflakes are pieces of me. They’re swirling around and I can’t catch them all and shove them back under my feet.”

My mouth runs dry.

He runs the back of his hand along my cheek. “You don’t treat me like everyone else has. You don’t look at me like everyone else does.”

“How…” I clear my throat. “How do you think I look at you?”

He steps into my space and is so close to me, I can barely breathe. “Like I’m the devil your demons have hunted for their whole life.”

A tear slips free, and he swipes it away from my cheek. Unable to deny his words, I whisper, “This could go really, really bad, Ryker.”

“Or it could go really, really great.” His expression softens as he stares at me. “Give me another chance. Please, Tara.”

“Okay,” I say after a few heartbeats.

The relief that washes over him saturates me, too. I have no clue how this is going to work, but I’m willing to give it a try.

“Come on.” I grab his hand and ignore the sinking feeling in my belly. “We’re going to brunch.”

“Are you serious?” He sounds concerned.

I lead us over to where my car’s parked. “You just opened up and gave me a very personal truth. Now I’m going to do the same.”

Here’s hoping this doesn’t blow up in my face before mimosas are poured.

Chapter 31

Ryker

No one’s ever taken me to meet their family before. I can’t cut off the overflow of wild, insecure thoughts blowing around like a blizzard in my mind. What if they hate me? What if they recognize me from somewhere like the porn sites I used to be on? What if they ask questions I don’t want to answer? I think if it was for anyone else, I’d turn this car around and say fuck it.

But Tara’s worth putting myself in the line of fire for.

I wasn’t kidding about how she looks at me. I know she mentioned I say her name like she’s an angel coming to take me out of hell, and maybe I do say her name like that. But it’s not my intention. Her name isn’t a prayer answered. It’s a fucking summoning.

I’m the devil and her demons adore me.

I think I’m in love.

Shit. Wait. No, that’s too far. But I’m close. I could slip on a banana peel and fall down the rabbit hole with Tara, and if I do, I’ll be glad. This woman has done the impossible. She sees me for what I am and accepts it. I don’t pretend with her. She knows who I am, what I am, what I’ve been. She hasn’t made me feel shame for any of it.

Talk about a one-eighty.

Every person I brought into my bed was a temporary thing. I never told them what I did for a living before I owned the Monarch. Hell, they didn’t even know I own a sex club. My career was none of their goddamn business. They were with me for a dickdown, and I used them to relieve some tension. That’s it. I’ve always been clean, health-wise, because I faithfully use protection, regardless of them begging for me to raw dog it, but there’s always been this darkness in my mind reminding me how filthy I am.

That reminder comes often, and now that I’m about to meet Tara’s family, it’s screaming at me. I need to pull my shit together.

Tara truly has me in pieces. Will I come out of this a better man or a bigger monster?

“Tell me about your family,” I say, to keep my mind busy.

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