The Rebel's Own (Crimson Romance) (11 page)

“What’s wrong, Grandma?” Riley asked as he took a bite of his dry toast. That was the only way he could eat it without getting sick.

“Your mommy is just having a bad morning.”

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, the accusatory glare Rebecca gave him immediately filling him in. He cleared his throat and looked away from her chilling gaze. “Just a few more weeks and the morning sickness will be over.”

“When she was pregnant with Riley, she barely got sick. I wonder what’s different now?”

Ryan tried to ignore the dig. He got off his stool and grabbed a glass of ice water before heading to Kennedy’s room. He found her on her bed, a look of misery on her face.

“I’m sorry. Here, drink this.”

“Why are you sorry?” she mumbled, as she reached for the water.

“Your mother seems to think it’s my fault your morning sickness is this bad. My presence apparently is making you ill. I guess you weren’t sick with Riley, so—”

“I was.” She chuckled. “She just wasn’t around. She worked the night shift at the hospital, and by the time she got in, she was tired. When she fell asleep, she couldn’t hear an earthquake let alone me puking my guts.”

“It’s nice to know it’s not me.”

“It is you. Each time my head is way down the toilet bowl, I think of you. Castrating you.”

He winced, though he knew she was teasing. “I think I should run before you act on your threat.” Ryan laughed. He couldn’t believe he was sitting down with Kennedy having a civil conversation and laughing. He also couldn’t help the guilt he felt at how miserable she looked. He guessed that was part of being a father, just like the tremendous excitement he felt for the gift he would get eight months later. “If you really don’t want to go today, I could ask Matt to sit with Riley.”

“I’ll come. You already got me a jersey. And Riley would be more excited if we were all there. Just don’t get hit too many times. We wouldn’t want you to break.”

“Of course.” He felt his joy deflate. The only thing Kennedy cared about was to make sure he was in top condition for the transplant. After the previous night, he had actually thought they had a chance. “Don’t worry,” he said curtly. “I’m sure the doctor will still be able to get to my bone marrow even if I’m broken.”

“Are you serious?” She clucked her tongue. “You need to stop seeing the negative in everything I say. We are moving forward, remember?”

Instantly, he felt chagrinned. “I remember. Sorry. Old habits. I should get going.”

“What about your parents?”

“You don’t have to entertain them. Mom will probably take over in the kitchen. Dad won’t wake up until ten. Game starts at four, but you should probably get there at two. Bring Riley down to the locker room for a second, when you get there. Or you could ask Dad to do it.”

“Is that allowed?”

“He’s my baby boy. I’m nervous and he relaxes me.” Ryan smiled. “Four years into this career and I’m already playing in the Super Bowl. But nothing compares to being Riley’s dad. I just hope I can make him proud by winning.”

“He’s already proud of you.” Kennedy rose off the bed on her knees and moved to the edge of the bed, next to Ryan. “I probably smell like puke, but I would like to hug you.”

Ryan threw back his head and laughed, “I’ll take it.” He pulled Kennedy in his arms and got lost in her warmth. He felt her arms move from his shoulders to his chest, signaling him to pull back. “Feed yourself and my baby. Both of them. Bye, Ken.”

“Bye, Ry.” He was about to pull away when her grip tightened and her face grew serious. “Ryan, about last night? Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“I needed to say it.” Ryan leaned in for a kiss and when she didn’t retreat, he claimed her lips, morning sickness be damned. When he pulled away, the smile she gave him had his blood rushing.
Finally.

• • •

Kennedy watched in a confused daze as a rack of clothes was pushed in front of her. She didn’t know what exactly went into a Super Bowl after party. But according to Matt, people got dressed up for it. She hadn’t seen Riley since the Rebels lifted the football cup in triumph. He was plastered to his father’s side enjoying his victory. She hadn’t seen much of Ryan Senior, either. But Rebecca and Elizabeth were there with her, suffering the pains of being plucked and fluffed like peacocks or supermodels about to take the runway. Ryan hadn’t told her about this party. She guessed he knew that she would have drawn the line at publicizing of their relationship to his friends. Before last night she would have been against it. Now, she was warming to the idea of being referred to as Mrs. Carville.

She stared at the red jersey thrown on her bed. Even though she was draped in a soft cotton robe, she preferred the Carville jersey. At least wearing that she’d felt like she belonged. Kennedy picked it up; the fabric smelled like hot dogs and the cola Riley had managed to pour on her when his father threw his third touchdown for the night. She smiled at the sweet memory of her son’s excitement. But she did feel a little sorry for him, having to watch all the action from the private box seats instead of out among the crowd. The only people there to share his enthusiasm were businessmen and models who had no interest in the game. She felt so bad that she’d let him go sit in the stands with his grandfather at the beginning of the second half.

Kennedy stared at the name on the back of her jersey.
Carville
. As a teenager she had dreamt of being Mrs. Carville. Now that she was, she didn’t find it as glamorous as she thought she would. But it meant something more to her. She belonged, to him, to his family, and in his world. By just wearing the jersey and turning up at the game she had showed her support and made a statement: She was Ryan’s wife.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Rebecca stared at her suspiciously, as if expecting the confusion of emotions churning inside her about to spout out like volcanic lava.

Kennedy shook her head, then neatly folded the jersey and placed it in her bag. With all the chaos in the room, she was afraid she would lose it. “Nothing, Mama. You look pretty.” She admired the emerald-green dress Rebecca wore. The fabric shone brightly against the rich chocolate of her skin; she looked beautiful.

“Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I don’t know what to wear.” Kennedy noticed, for the first time, the lethargic woman standing next to the clothes rack. The stylist flinched, apparently not amused with Kennedy’s indecision.

“How about ivory, dear?” Elizabeth put in, as she joined them in her red floor-length gown. “Ivory is Ryan’s favorite color.”

“But beige suits you so well, sweetheart.” The chilly tone in Rebecca’s voice was enough to give everyone in the room frostbite.

Kennedy didn’t want Ryan to think she had been trying to please him. But this was his night, and she’d just caught sight of an ivory gown with gold embellishments that made her skin itch with want. She turned to the stylist and said, “I’ll wear the ivory one. I’d like my hair up to showcase the choker at the neckline.”

Kennedy turned away from her mother’s frown and sat in front of the mirror. She was going to be Ryan’s eye candy, but just for tonight. The stylist, with a much more relaxed smile, brought forward a pair of gold slippers for her to approve. Once her hair was done up, Kennedy moved to the bed. She took in the beautiful dress and, lying beside it, a gold clutch bag studded with gems that shone brilliantly. Matt had told her the importance of appearance, but he seemed to have gone all out providing these. She had the wild suspicion that the jewels were real diamonds.

“When do I return this?” Kennedy asked the stylist.

“Never. Mr. Carville asked for everything to be delivered to your house once you chose what you wanted to wear tonight.”

“What!?” Kennedy’s gaze shifted to the rack of clothes. “These gowns will not fit in a month. Did Mr. Carville tell you I’m pregnant?”

“Yes. He’s very excited about it.”

“Yeah, but he won’t be the one staring at gowns he can’t wear just because he looks like a whale,” she mumbled.

Kennedy couldn’t believe that it was her when she finally took inventory in front of the mirror. She looked beautiful. She never thought of herself that way, but today she did.

“Hurry up dear,” Elizabeth called out from the foyer. “The boys are here.”

“Speaking of, ask Ryan what we are going to do with Riley,” Kennedy yelled back over her shoulder.

“He’s coming with us, I’ll keep an eye on—Oh my God, Kennedy,” Elizabeth gasped, stepping into the room behind her.

“What?” Kennedy whipped around half expecting to see something gruesome that had Elizabeth stunned.

“You look—”

“You look like a princess, Mommy!” Riley shouted when he ran into the room in his tiny suit. He was about to leap into her arms when his grandmother caught him.

“None of that, young man. At least give your daddy and the world a chance to see her before you ruin her look.”

“You look very handsome, Riley.” Kennedy took in how Riley looked in his black tuxedo with a tiny white bow tie. She bet Ryan had one hell of a time trying to get him to hold still long enough to get him dressed.

“RJ,” Riley announced.

“What?” Kennedy asked, her smile faltering.

“You see,” Riley gulped and Kennedy braced herself, “I asked daddy if I could be Ryan just like him and grandpa. He said I have to ask you, but it was okay with him.” Riley started fiddling with his thumbs, a trademark tic whenever he was nervous and a bit frightened.

“Is this what you were whispering into Daddy’s ear this morning.”

Riley nodded.

“You really want Ryan to be your first name?”

Riley nodded, his eyes glued to his shiny dress shoes the whole time. How could she deny him that? The little boy just wanted to be like his daddy. Kennedy used her finger to raise his eyes to hers. With a smile, she said, “Of course, RJ.”

Riley looked up at her and bestowed her an enormous smile, the kind she hadn’t seen for weeks. Somehow those two letters had made his day. Riley grabbed her hand and started pulling her to the door. Kennedy barely had a chance to grab her purse. She ran as much as her four-inch heels allowed. Her heart thumped in her chest. Ryan had never seen her this decked out. She wondered what he would think too.

“Riley, don’t pull your mother around like that,” Rebecca chastised.

“It’s RJ now! Ryan Junior,” Riley announced, his chest puffed out and his tone filled with pride.

“RJ? What’s the meaning of that?”

“Not now, Mother. Shall we go?” Kennedy turned and stepped into the foyer, her eyes already searching the room for Ryan. He was over next to Matt. Both men were gaping, but Ryan was watching her with awe in his eyes. He never said a word as people started to shuffle out of the room and into the hallway of the hotel. When it was just them left behind, she took a nervous step towards him. His porcelain skin stood out from the all-black suit he was wearing. His muscular form filled out his jacket, the seams looking ready to burst.

“Do I look okay?”

“Perfect,” he whispered. “You look perfect.”

Ryan held out his hand for her and she took it. She felt her knees weaken as he threaded his fingers with hers. He took a shaky step towards her, uncertainty in his eyes, as he lowered his head to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her on the lips, but he gave her a peck on the cheek. “I wouldn’t want to mess up your makeup.”

Kennedy felt a pang of disappointment. She didn’t give a hoot about the Chanel gloss she wore. She would rather have Ryan’s lips on hers.

“We are going in a limo, but our cars are already at the restaurant. That way we can leave whenever you want. I know with the pregnancy you’ll get tired pretty quickly, and then there’s Riley. I don’t know how much longer that sugar high is going to keep him awake.”

“Ryan,” she cut in, “Your team won the Super Bowl. You are the most valuable player. It’s your night. I will stay as long as you want me to stay. And Riley—I mean RJ—he can sleep in tomorrow.”

“You are not upset about him wanting to be called RJ instead of Riley, are you?”

“Ryan is already his name. We’ll just make it his first name when we go change his name to Carville.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Change his name… So you’re going to stay then? After the transplant?”

He sounded breathless, and Kennedy’s own breath caught. “Yes,” she whispered.

A slow smile spread over Ryan’s face. “Even when I do stuff that doesn’t make me husband of the year?”

Kennedy grinned, but just nodded in response.

Her husband leaned in and gave her the kiss she’d been waiting for. “Thank you.”

• • •

Ryan had gotten rid of the tie and jacket halfway into the victory party. Already he had received a lot of compliments on how beautiful his wife looked. His heart was still in his throat, it hadn’t come down yet from the moment Kennedy was tugged into the room by an eager Riley—no, RJ. He had to get used to calling his son that. He and Kennedy had agreed to go to the lawyer’s office first thing in the morning and start the process of changing Riley’s name. He couldn’t be more proud.

He watched as his son played with the other children, not once did he look too tired or sick. And Kennedy seemed to fit right in with the wives. He watched as she laughed, tactfully refusing the champagne on offer and drinking the ginger ale he had sent to her.

“What are you going to do during the off season?” Matt, standing next to him, asked.

“I’m going to start getting ready for the new baby. Plus, Riley’s recovery is going to have us tied up.”

“He seems fine now. I feel so bad for your mother and Rebecca. They finally gave up chasing him around the room.”

“I’ve never seen him like this. So full of energy,” Ryan choked on the emotion. When he first heard about his son, he’d been horrified. A part of him was still sure he was going to lose him. Ryan didn’t feel like he deserved a son after what he did to Kennedy. But it was for Kennedy’s sake that he prayed every day for the life of his children, and it seemed like God was listening.

“Your rugrat just toppled a waiter. Doesn’t he have a cage?” Clara’s shrill voice cut into his happy thoughts suddenly.