Love Found in California (The Washington Triplets) (7 page)

WE HAD BEEN MARRIED FOR
just over a week when my first anxiety attack, or maybe it was a panic attack, hit me. I couldn’t be sure what it was and didn’t really care. The feeling of suffocation curled around my lungs, squeezing tighter and tighter. Just a moment ago I had been lying on my stomach on our beach blanket in the sand, mindlessly thumbing through an entertainment magazine. Ryan was gently running his fingers across my arm. He was always touching me in some subtle way as if to let me know he was here and I was his.

Now I was sitting up barely able to get in my next breath, red and blue running through me, purple on the edge of its entrance into my body. Ryan stayed steady and solid though. He came closer to me and I didn’t push him away, like I would any others who tried in the past.

“What is it, Mik?” he asked softly. My response was an uncontrollable sob. His arms tightening around me didn’t cause me fear and it shocked me. Just like everything else with Ryan, he broke barriers in me that he didn’t know existed. “What can I do? You’re scaring me.”

I wanted to tell him that I had just read an article about a newer director in entertainment by the name of Eric Black and just what Eric Black meant to me … but I couldn’t get any words out.

“Is it about your mom, love?” This I had talked to Ryan about gingerly. He knew how badly I missed her and just what she meant to me, but I never expanded on my torn relationships with my sisters and my dad. And I certainly never talked about my past dating life, lack thereof and who had darkened my world permanently.

After the breakdown in my office, Ryan insisted I go home and rest. To be sure I left, he even drove me home, took me to our bedroom, stripped me of my work clothes, which had improved since marrying Ryan, and slipped me into one of his t-shirts. Tucking me under the covers, he kissed my head and told me to call him for any reason at all.

Just after three, the door opens, much earlier than Ryan usually comes home. He races up the stairs, quieting his steps just as he approaches our room.

“I’m awake,” I say with a smile.

“Oh good. How do you feel?” he asks while unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it over to the hamper.

“Better. I actually took a nap. I was more sore and tired than I had thought,” I tell him honestly. Swinging my legs around the bed I watch Ryan take his pants off and throw on some shorts. He makes his way over to me and then kneels in front of me.

“Good,” he replies with a smile that settles somewhere between sweet and sexy. His hands rest on my bare thighs and begin to move slowly, tingling my skin. “You positive?”

“Yes, much better. Thank you for everything today, Ry. I—”

“The days not over, love,” he says with a slight rising of his one eyebrow, as if asking for clearance. I can’t resist matching his eyebrow gesture with my own. His smile instantly turns from sweet to sexy.

When his lips hit my inside thigh, my eyelids flutter and then close. I inhale and exhale, sighing with satisfaction. With each movement and kiss, Ryan’s eyes measure my response, looking to me to see if he should continue. He loves to observe and account for all my reactions, as do I with him. The higher his lips travel the more my anticipation grows while the worry and panic of earlier drift further away.

His fingers creep up to my panty line and then he begins to pull them downward, stopping his kisses when his lips meet the cotton. Our eyes lock on each other, me easily mesmerized by the intent brown coloring of his. I lift and he slides the cotton from my behind, over my thighs and off all together. Slowly, he raises one leg and then the other over his shoulders, as he continues to kneel in front of me.

“Relax, Mik,” he breathes against my upper thigh. Our eyes still meeting each other until I allow myself to fall back onto the bed.

When Ryan’s mouth covers me, I moan out without resistance for the instant feeling of stress leaving my body. As Ryan makes me feel all things good, pleasurable and satisfying, I take ease in knowing that this will be the only man until I die that will make me feel this way.

***

Lying with Ryan curled around me in a feeling of ecstasy, I listen to our breathing. After a while, Ryan turns me to face him, scanning my face and holding my cheeks. “I talked to the therapist’s office.” He pauses to watch my reaction, but I don’t let myself react because there is no need to panic. We already agreed that we would go to therapy together. “Three days, she’ll see just you, but I’ll come with. Then we’ll go in together when she feels you are ready. Okay?”

Twitching my lips back and forth I contemplate what to say, but Ryan assures me. “We are a team. I’m your husband and we’ll do this together.”

“Okay,” I breathe out, maybe a little too sharply.

Accepting my answer, he kisses my forehead and then my lips before he says, “Yes.” Releasing his hold on me, but keeping his eyes on mine, he starts to scoot from the bed. “I have something for you. Stay here.” I open my mouth to ask what, but he’s already gone from the room.

A minute later, Ryan’s entering the room with a shopping bag from a boutique down the road from the office.
Lana and Lila’s Boutique
etched across the bag definitely catches my eye. I love this shop, but rarely buy anything there because it’s pricey.

“Okay, you won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t like it. I had Carrie pick it out. See what you think and then either way I’m taking you out. It’s Friday night, baby.” Again he cocks one of his eyes playfully at me and I can’t help the giggle that bubbles up.

“You didn’t have to get me something. I’d go out with you tonight regardless,” I say teasingly as I smack his arm and grab the bag into my lap.

He climbs back up on the bed beside me. “I have to say, I really like it and hope that you do. You’ll looking amazing in it … just like you always do.” I start to pull apart the tissue paper and get more excited as I peek at him. His charm and charisma draw me in just as they did in the beginning. “Oh, and we are not talking about the appointment next week or the car accident or your dad’s wedding. Deal?”

The material is smooth and silky; it slips through my hands landing on my lap. “Ryan, I love it!” I exclaim with joy before answering his question. The dress is a mint green tunic-style with ivory lace trim on the bottom.

“So, is it a deal?” He presses me further with amusement in his tone. Glancing at him I can see the thrill it gives him to see me happy.

Even though I know it’s only a temporary silence that Ryan is allowing and that he is probably hoping that this strategy is a means to an end … me telling him everything. On the other hand, maybe Ryan’s not ready to disturb our bubble of being newlyweds yet either. Either way, I appreciate it. “Yes, yes, it’s a deal,” I squeal and grab him to me, kissing him with a loud smack on his lips. Ryan reaches around and pinches my bare behind, murmuring for me to hurry up and get changed.

***

Pulling up to the Hollywood Bowl, I beam from ear to ear. I had always heard that it was an outstanding amphitheater to hear music. Ryan parks and comes around to open my door, which he often does if I don’t beat him to it. When I stand, I smooth my dress out, worrying about the length of it being too short.

Lacing our fingers together he whispers in my ear, “You look gorgeous, so stunning.” My skin sizzles, making the hairs on my arms stand up.

“Are you sure? Maybe this is too short for me,” I state hesitantly.

“About you being gorgeous, of course I’m sure. The dress is short and I like you in it … as long as you’re with me.” I hate the feeling of insecurity that clouds my thoughts. It seems silly because Ryan has never said anything to make me feel otherwise. The truth is I’m more comfortable in my skin than I have ever been in my life, well at least in years.

Contemplating my range of options, knowing none of them seem rational except for enjoying the evening with my loving husband. I squeeze Ryan’s hand and say, “Okay, let’s go. I can’t wait!”

“That’s my girl.”
His girl, Ryan’s girl
, I love when he calls me ‘my girl’. He doesn’t use this term of endearment as often as ‘Mik’ or ‘love’, but it makes me feel attached, that I belong here with him … protected.

Ryan pulls me close into his side and with each step we take, my insecurities subside, drifting off with the low hum of people buzzing and a melody floating from the speakers of the amphitheater. He leads us up to The Wine Bar for dinner. He orders enough food for an army, letting us sample a wide variety of flavors. We share all of the dishes and drink delicious Soju cocktails. My favorite has elderflower syrup with lemon and strawberries in it. Ryan explains, “Soju means burned liquor.”

“Hmmm, nothing about this burns. It doesn’t burn at all actually,” I confess as I take a healthy sip again.

“The syrup helps with that,” he laughs out.

“Well, it’s delicious and I want another,” I shoot back, the alcohol relaxing me more and more.

“Well, love, Soju etiquette is never pour your own and don’t refill your glass until it’s empty.” I look at him over the rim of my glass and finish the remaining drops of my cocktail until it is gone.

Ryan’s face flushes and he shakes his head as he holds a finger up to the waitress and signals for two more. His smile is one of those that consumes his whole face. He has that smile that stands out in a crowd; your eyes automatically come back to him every time. When the waitress set our drinks down, Ryan quickly switches them. This time ginger syrup with lime and mint cover my taste buds.

We talk. And talk some more. We talk just like when we were dating, with no inhibitions or worries. Well, I probably always had worries, but Ryan pushed those away more than anyone else could. Ryan explains the details of one of our upcoming clients and throws around some ideas.

“You’re so talented, Mik. I knew I had made the best hire with you. Your work always amazes me. You amaze me,” he whispers across the table. His hand grazing my thigh just under the table fills all of my senses.

Staring at him, feeling giddy and light-headed, I stumble on a reply. “You … you make me feel that way.”

We finish up our food and drinks. Then Ryan takes us to our box seats, both of us with a bit of sway in our steps now. Our bodies stay in constant contact. Fingers entwined, arms touching and sweet kisses. The music starts and I want to crawl into Ryan’s lap and let him hold me just like a baby. Of course, I contain myself.

When the soft melody of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game begins, everyone stands. Ryan and I face each other with our arms circled around one another. Our eyes locked, love and passion filling the small space between us. Ryan’s lips move soundlessly to the words reminding me of how I hadn’t planned to fall in this deep.

THE WEEKEND ENDS MUCH TOO
quickly and Monday morning comes without warning. I wake feeling like I slept peacefully and without interruption. My body is heated, but not sweating, with Ryan sleeping behind me. At first I think it must be really early if Ryan’s still here, but then I look at the clock and see it’s almost eight.

I turn into Ryan and shake his arm, “Ry, Ry, wake up, you overslept.”

His eyes open halfway and then close again as his lips turn upward. “No, I decided that we can drive together today.”

“Why?” I ask as he nuzzles into my chest, releasing a yawn at the same time.

“Because, we have your appointment after work and we need to figure out a new car for you,” he replies sleepily.

I stretch out of his hold on me and straighten myself up along the headboard. “I don’t need a new car, it just needs to be repaired,” I state with a bit of agitation in my tone.

“Mik, no, don’t argue with me on this. It’s not worth fixing. I want you to have something bigger, safer.” He sits up swinging his legs off the bed and runs his hands over his face, stretching his jaw out.

“But I don’t want a different car. I like my car. It’s fine.” Stubbornly, I dig my heels into the bed with frustration. I’m not really mad at Ryan, just mad at the situation.

Ryan chuckles as he walks around the bed toward the bathroom, shaking his head at me. “You’re feisty this morning,” he says as he steps into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Seems silly that I feel so attached to a car, but I am. That car was a step in the right direction for me. It’s gotten me here, away from home. It was one of the first independent things I did after that summer. I had money saved and was able to lease it even though it was used. It gave me the independence and freedom to get to school, to my part-time job and to therapy on my own. Beforehand, I was reliant on my mom and even my dad sometimes to get me where I needed. Of course, Mom helped me take this step, encouraging me all along.

This car meant something to me. It had traveled with me here to California, where I now feel destine to be … with Ryan. Ryan didn’t know this though, how could he? He was only looking out for me and my best interests.

Once I hear the shower running, I open the door to the bathroom and slip Ryan’s t-shirt off of me. Then as I slide the shower door open, I remove my panties with my other hand. Ryan moves to the side to accommodate me.