“Dinner will be at seven,” Lenore calls to us as Riggs grabs my hand and pulls me away from his parents.
Dragging me through the mini mansion, Riggs takes off like a bat out of hell. Everything about him screams that he wanted to be anywhere but here, yet this was his idea—his surprise. The fun, easy-going guy I love disappeared and I was left with the part of him I knew very little about.
I dig my heels into the grass once we reach the backyard and force him to turn around and look at me.
“What are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” Widening my eyes, I questioned him. “What in God’s name are you doing?”
“Hanging onto what’s left of my sanity?” He offers, sighing as he repositions Eric in his arms. “This fucking place makes my skin crawl,” he admits, dropping onto one of the lounge chairs and placing Eric on his lap.
“Then why are we here?”
“I thought it would be nice to get away,” he says quickly.
Too quickly.
“The truth, Riggs,” I demand softly, crossing my arms under my chest as I take in the scenery, the rolling greens, the pool that sits gated to the left of the property and the custom built bar and grill area across from it. It’s beautiful here, the perfect getaway for a family yet the memories I can see us making aren’t the type of memories Riggs has of this place.
“We used to come here every summer,” he starts. “My father would lock himself away in his office and my mother would bang her tennis coach,” he sneers. “She’d come home from the country club and they’d fight. He’d accuse her, she’d deny it—they’d scream for hours. Bones’ mom would take us out here and we’d play for hours, pretend we were soldiers fighting against the bad guys. By the time the sun went down, my father was gone and my mother was sitting in her room nursing one of those Bloody Mary’s she likes so much.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, sitting beside him on the chaise lounge.
“Seeing them like this, pretending the last twenty-five years didn’t happen is fucking driving me insane,” he grimaces, placing a kiss to Eric’s head. “Sorry, I meant to say ducking.”
“They don’t seem at odds now,” I say thoughtfully. “Maybe they’ve made peace.”
His gaze turns soft as he props his chin on Eric’s head and stares at me. There was so much in his eyes—adoration, love, forever.
“Never change, Kitten,” he pleads. “You’re all the good left in the world.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into the crook of his arm.
“I hope our kids all have your heart,” he declares.
“Are we interrupting?” Lenore questions, holding a tray full of empty glasses and pitcher of what looked like lemonade.
I smiled, leaning closer to Riggs.
“Be nice,” I warn through clenched teeth.
“Did you spike that?” He asks his mother as she fills the glasses.
“No but I can if you’d prefer that,” she lifts her eyes to his and raises an eyebrow.
“Might not be a bad idea,” he says, holding her gaze.
Riggs’ hold on me loosens a bit, and I swear his mother smiles at him. Mr. Montgomery sits across from us, waving playfully at Eric as he averts his eyes back and forth between me and Riggs.
“So how did you two meet?”
“Lauren was dancing on top of a bar when I first met her,” he says proudly.
“He kidnapped my mother,” I blurt simultaneously, before we both burst out laughing and his parents gawk at us.
“I think spiking the lemonade is a great idea,” Lenore states.
“I’ll get the Goose,” Mr. Montgomery offers, rising to his feet. Eric raises his hands as his grandfather stands, causing the man to freeze in his tracks and Riggs to wrap his arms protectively around our son.
“I’m not a vulture,” Mr. Montgomery says, smiling at Eric. “How about an ice pop?” He turns his gaze to me. “We sent Roger to the store for a couple of things, unsure what he might like. We have all different flavors of those natural fruit bars. Is he allergic to anything?”
“Who are you?” Riggs mutters.
“No, Mr. Montgomery. Eric doesn’t have any allergies why don’t you bring him out your favorite and we’ll see if he likes it.”
“Call me, Robert, please,” he requests before looking back at his son. “And to answer your question, I’m your father. I might not have been a great one, even a decent one, but you are my son and I’d like the chance to be some kind of father.”
Riggs was speechless.
Somewhere pigs were flying and hell was freezing over.