Page 25 of Second Shot

CHAPTER11

Epilogue- Ryker

I stoodin my kitchen attempting to chop vegetables for dinner, cursing under my breath as the knife slipped again. Domesticity was still an adjustment in some respects.

"Need some help there, Iron Chef?” Meg appeared in the doorway, smirking, her tousled hair giving her sex kitten vibes that stirred my libido to life.

Not hard with her, I was always rock hard when she entered a room. I felt like a randy teenager most days.

I grimaced at the mangled carrot. "Clearly my skills don't extend to the culinary arts."

“Hmm. Yes. It's cute that you try though.” Meg bumped me aside with her hip, taking over chopping with quick, deft motions. I eyeballed her skill with a tiny pang of jealousy. The kitchen had never been my forte, but Meg was good at damn near everything she put her mind to.

We moved in easy sync, me tending to the sizzling chicken––that she checked occasionally––while she handled the veggies. Once finished, we settled on the couch with full plates and a bottle of wine to share.

I smiled, still marveling at this strange new reality I got to live in. At having someone to come home to again. We spent most of our time here at my place these days. We had more room, and besides, I had killer views here.

Her little photographer’s heart couldn’t resist that argument. We’d kept her studio apartment though and made it guest ready, so we’d have a place for friends to stay when they came to town.

Or our kids, if they didn’t want to stay with mom and dad.

With her feet in my lap, Meg dove into wedding plans for her oldest son. I nodded along, though marriage talk made me uneasy.

My track record was less than stellar.

As Meg described venue ideas, affection swelled in my chest. In the past six months, she'd become my closest confidante. My missing piece. I did want the permanence of marriage, but hesitated to push her.

Or me, for that matter.

Could I get it right this time?

Could we?

Screwing up my courage, I took a deep, bracing breath and interrupted her mini-monologue. “Listen, Meg. Speaking of weddings. I know they’re are a touchy subject, with both of us, but... I'd really like to marry you someday."

Shock flashed in her eyes.

I rushed on before she could reply. "I mean, you already live here pretty much full time. And we mesh so well, our kids get along and seem to like us together…” I trailed off, pulse racing.

Meg's expression turned wary. "Ryker..."

"Just think about it, Daniels,” I murmured, giving her feet a squeeze. "No pressure."

She worried her lip.

I could see the struggle in her eyes.

She’d been straight up from the moment we reconnected about her fears of losing herself in a relationship again, but I knew this time was different.

Iwas different.

I think––at least I hoped––she knew that too.

We’d both been a little gun shy going into this thing, but I’d been doing my damndest to prove how much I loved her every single day she gave me.

Ever since that fateful night six months ago.

The corner of my mouth kicked up at the memory of her blurting out that she loved me. Confirming what I already knew, of course, but damn… it felt good to hear her say it.

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