Page 24 of Follow My Heart

I nodded, enjoying that he’d compared his job to mine, making it no less important than his. When we both knew it was. “Did your ex-wife work?”

“She’s a paralegal. She enjoys the social aspect, going into the office, and seeing people. She was bored when she was home on maternity leave.”

As much as I was curious about Stacy and why they broke up, I didn’t want to know the details.

“Is there a reason why you didn’t have more kids?” As soon as it was out of my mouth, I waved a hand in his direction. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

Ryder cleared his throat. “It’s okay. She had some postpartum depression. Not that we understood that’s what it was right away. She improved when she went back to work, and I think she didn’t want to go back to that emotional place.”

“Did you want more?”

“Not at the expense of Stacy’s mental health, but yes, I wanted at least one more. But I understood that it was hard for Stacy. Back then, I worked long hours. She was doing the heavy lifting herself. If I ever have another, I’d want it to be different. Since we had Faith, the department has issued a paternity policy so we can take eight to twelve weeks off, paid. But I want to be around more.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.” I was impressed that Ryder recognized his shortcomings and wanted to do better.

Ryder nodded. “I wished it had been in place when we had Faith.”

This time, I was the one who squeezed his hand. “Faith is a happy girl. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just wished I was more involved.”

I glanced over at her, where she was laughing with the boy. “You still have time with Faith now. She’s only twelve.”

“I think the divorce was a good thing. It made me reevaluate what I was doing, and what kind of a father I wanted to be.”

Ryder wanted to grow and get better. It was a good sign. My parents had been so stuck in their ways. I couldn’t get them to budge on their expectations for me and Danielle.

The pizza arrived, and while the waitress cut the slices for us, Ryder waved Faith over. We dug in, starving from working up an appetite.

When we were done, Ryder took care of the bill.

“I could have paid for my portion. I had cash,” I said.

“I always pay when I’m out.”

I don’t know why I liked that so much, but I did. I’d been out with plenty of guys who had no problems letting me pay at least my portion if not the entire bill. Ryder’s whole chivalrous vibe was attractive. He took care of the people in his life, and I liked it a bit too much.

On the way to the cooking class, Faith talked nonstop about what it would be like. It was obvious she enjoyed making things, especially when it related to food.

She was a girl after my own heart. I almost wanted to buy her an ice-cream maker for her mother’s house, but that would be overstepping several lines. I was a friend. If I could even be categorized as that.

I’d run into Ryder and Faith a few times. We’d shared a meal together. But I wasn’t sure what this was.

At the library, we followed the signs for the new kitchen which was in the basement. There were eight smaller stations in front of a large counter in the front of the room. The instructor had a projector that reflected her table to the class.

I went to a table, and Ryder and Faith took the one in front of me. It wouldn’t make sense to make it a threesome. Besides, I always came to the class by myself.

This was their father-daughter time. I shouldn’t be intruding, no matter how much I wanted to. When the instructor went through the safety rules, Faith looked over her shoulder at me. “This is so exciting.”

I returned her smile, but she’d already turned back to the front of the room. I didn’t miss Ryder’s wink he shot in my direction, sending tingles through my body. This was going to be a long class.

My view was Ryder’s ass in those well-worn jeans. I’d never get enough of it. I just hoped I wouldn’t ruin the Italian risotto we were supposed to be making.

I forced myself to listen to the instructor and carefully follow her directions. But it was hard to focus because Faith kept looking up at her father, asking questions, and commenting on everything. He was patient with her, taking the time to answer any questions she had. And I loved that he insisted she take lead on the work.

This was her passion after all.

By the time we were done, my risotto looked okay, but Faith and Ryder’s was questionable.

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