Page 34 of Her Surprise Protector
“Will do.” Wine helped me write poetry, so maybe it would help him read it. I dropped the subject for now, though, determining to remember his promise.
By car, the drive from Manhattan to Riker’s mansion on Cooper’s Beach was about two-and-a-half to three hours, depending on traffic. I could understand why he had invested in a private jet, because the aircraft got us there in minutes. Despite the initial cost of the jet and the continued cost of fuel and the pilot, if Riker made the trip every weekend, this was definitely the better solution…since he could afford it.
The airstrip where Riker’s jet always landed was closer to his home than mine. So, we made a quick stop there to drop off Riker’s things, then continued to my house. I sat in his Mercedes, craning my neck as we wove around the familiar streets, waiting for my home to come into view.
The angled, protruding corner of the roof appeared around the side of a familiar tall dune and stand of bushes, followed by light blue clapboard siding, large windows, and a neat screen door nestled into a grassy yard amidst the surrounding dunes. I knew all these features so well because they belonged to me, and just seeing them from down the road was enough to let me finally sit back in my seat and relax.
“Home sweet home,” I couldn’t help but murmur as I pulled my car up to the house just the way I liked it and put it in park.
The words were a mistake. My sense of ease and comfort disappeared, and that same hollow, indeterminate feeling from earlier reemerged. A part of me shied away from my own home, and I still didn’t know why. Was it a lingering fear of Oscar? No, no way. I trusted Riker, and if he said Oscar was gone, then Oscar was gone.
I didn’t have time to think about it because I had to get Bree and all my belongings out of the car and into the house. Bree didn’t want her juice box, or any of her toys for that matter. She was too keyed up by the flight and our sudden return home. My daughter reminded me of a puppy who hadn’t been home in a while. Her cute curiosity made me smile as I watched her trying to ensure that everything was still as she remembered. I needed to unpack, though, and Bree was in full-on exploration mode, which could take her anywhere and get her into all sorts of trouble.
Riker being Riker, he sensed my dilemma immediately. “I got this,” he promised. “Go ahead and unpack.”
Taking my time to put each article of clothing, personal products, and miscellaneous objects away helped clear my mind and gave me a feeling of satisfaction that my home was back in order. If I had just set down my bags and said, “I’ll deal with these later,” unpacking would have been on my mind while I tried to relax and spend time with Riker.
When I had finished putting everything away, I headed out of the sanctuary of my room into the slight chaos that was the living room. Bree had apparently decided that because Riker was following her around, he wanted to play a game of chase. Giggling wildly and breathlessly, she ran in her uncoordinated way around and around the couch, saying over and over, “Catch me if you can!”
I stopped in the hall for a moment to watch the game. As any good adult should, Riker never caught Bree except after she had spent a minute or two evading him, letting her have her fun and feel accomplished. When he did catch her, he lifted her high, his strong arms soaring her around like an airplane while she laughed and kicked her tiny legs in excitement.
He’s…he’s a great dad,I realized suddenly, my heart barely able to handle the adorable moment. Throughout the entire month, we had just spent together, Riker had been perfect with Bree. I could hardly believe he hadn’t had a child himself or spent time around kids at all, but I knew he would never lie to me.
To some, it might have seemed strange, but I liked to go into the kitchen and cook something when I got back from a trip. Besides, it would be dinner time soon. “Do you have to go back to Manhattan tonight?” I asked, already knowing the answer. It was Monday, which meant tomorrow was a workday.
“Nope. I took a couple of days off, and I’m working remotely on Wednesday and nearby in the Hamptons on Thursday. I wanted to take some time and help you both get settled in.” Riker held Bree away from him with a wry face when she took a fistful of his hair and tugged a bit too hard. “I’m wondering if I should rethink that decision, though.”
Bree and I giggled in unison. “Okay. I’ll make dinner then, and you can stay over if you want. Does chicken and shrimp stir fry sound good? I don’t have anything fresh, I’m afraid.”
“That sounds great. Bree and I will just wait patiently.” Bree immediately ran off down the hall toward her room, and Riker jogged after her.
Chuckling to myself, I started some music on the speaker in the kitchen, swaying along to the relaxing tunes while I cooked. Soon enough, dinner was done, and I dished out three servings of stir fry, one much smaller than the others and filled with meat and veggies, sliced in little pieces for Bree.
“Dinner!” I called. A scuffling sound and a thud came from the hallway, and I glanced that way concerned. But Riker came around the corner with Bree balanced on his shoulders.
“Her shoe fell off,” he explained, tickling the little foot until Bree shrieked with laughter.
Dinner vanished quickly into our hungry tummies, then Riker helped me clean up. The food gave Bree another brief high of energy, but I could tell she was running on fumes. Today had been a long day, and even the most energetic kids couldn’t go forever.
When Bree nearly nodded off over her big cardboard block set, Riker plucked her up and took her to bed. We tucked her in together, shut the door quietly, then went back to the living room to continue what we had started on the jet. We always kept a large selection of wines here. Riker and I had stocked up before we left for Manhattan with some of our personal and shared favorites.
“Okay.” I leaned forward, glass in hand. “Tell me everything. What happened with Oscar?”
“It was pretty funny, actually. So, what I did was…”
I listened as Riker walked me through the setup, the wait and the final, action-filled moment when he had pounced on an unsuspecting Oscar as he had walked around the corner of the hallway. “I got him in a headlock immediately. Like I said, no contest…he was staggering around like a drunk idiot.”
“Where did that happen?”
“Right here,” Riker said, standing up to illustrate exactly where on the floor the takedown had occurred. “He tried to get away when I went for the handcuffs, so a headlock seemed like the best option.”
“Well, thank you for showing so much restraint,” I said, still laughing. “I’m sure it must have been difficult.”
“Oh, it was.” Riker sat down again. “By the way, I brought something. Let me grab it out of the car.”
I didn’t know if I could take any surprises right now, good or bad, but Riker had already let the front door swing shut behind him. Less than a minute later, he returned, holding a notebook of his own.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked, setting down my wine.
