Page 33 of The Restoration Program
“My knight in shining armor,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.
He frowned at her. “Huh?”
“You. Protecting me from the cutest little blonde on this side of town. What would I do without you?”
She watched with pleasure as his cheeks flushed. “I thought you didn’t wanna see anyone. And I didn’t know how she was gonna react to you,” he said.
“I think you really stand a fighting chance against her.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Her wicked grin faltered for only a second as Ryan crouched down at the table’s edge. They looked at each other, mischief turning to tenderness. He was within reach, so Nicole went to him, hugging the side of his neck. She hadn’t gotten any more graceful at embracing him at NüPrint-size, but she had, at least, begun to enjoy the intimacy.
“It is a little hot,” she mumbled into him. “This sudden protectiveness you’ve got going on.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Just promise not to scare off every visitor, you weirdo.”
Ryan chuckled, and the sound was warm and resonating. She shut her eyes as the weight of his hand secured over her, sweeping her feet off the table to hold her against him. Nicole shuddered and sighed. The scent of his cypress and bergamot body wash was so much more intoxicating at this size. She leaned her cheek against his skin, breathing him in greedily and curling her knees up.
“So. How much did you hear?” Ryan asked after a minute.
Embarrassment flooded her. They hadn’t fully unpacked how she had been deliberately eavesdropping on his phone call. “Not much, really. Just your dad going out of his way to be a jerk, as usual.”
Ryan gave a harsh laugh. “I hate how right you are. I feel like an idiot, still hoping he’ll come around one day.”
Nicole pressed herself against him, finding one hand could reach around to the little wavy curls that hung at the back of his neck. She raked her fingers through his hair, happy to feel him still react to her touch.
“You don’t need the approval of someone who would hurt his own family,” she whispered. She spoke gently, like to a young boy. A shiver ran through his wide shoulders, and he hugged her little form tighter to him.
“Why do we hold onto these pointless parts of ourselves that want to rewrite history?” he asked, voice mumbled into her side.
“It’s in our DNA, I guess,” she offered gently. She kissed Ryan’s neck and kept stroking his hair, feeling him melt into her as the minutes stretched.
“Did you hear about the check?” he asked, shifting.
Her brows knit. “No.”
“I was going through the mail, and… Your life insurance check came in today. Dad wants me to cash it, but it wouldn’t feel right. It would be like saying you’re dead.”
Her breath caught. She was glad Ryan couldn’t see her smile drop away, though he seemed to sense it, giving her a squeeze of comfort while she processed his news. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that the life insurance would pay out, but really, nothing should have felt surprising after Wilson’s insistence that her company file listed her as deceased.
“Ryan… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m with your dad on this one.”
He pulled her away to look at her incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”
“We need that money.”
“But you’re not dead! We’ve got an uphill battle convincing people otherwise, and taking the check—it just… It feels like we’re letting them win, doesn’t it?”
Affection for his ferocity rushed through her—always fighting in her corner. She reached out and touched his cheek. “We don’t have to tell the whole world. Think about it, babe. That money is meant to help you out if something were to happen to me. Well, somethingdidhappen, and I’m not exactly going to be raking in the dough by proofreading documents for a couple of bucks.”
He gazed at her skeptically, but she could see her logic chipping away at the stubbornness in his eyes.
“The bills aren’t going to give us a break,” she went on, “and we have the hospital to pay. Not to mention all the gas we’ll burn driving to Fairbourne every other week. If the check is gonna help pick up the slack for a while, then… wehaveto take it. Please, Ryan. It’ll be one less thing plaguing my mind all hours of the day.”
Sighing, he ran his thumb up and down her outstretched arm. “You have a point. But I don’t like it.”
