Page 84 of Bitter Haven

Ryan's mom was thrilled. Katie Walsh claimed she'd known that they were meant for each other the moment she'd met Erin.

Erin's mother, on the other hand, was appalled. And horrified. And every other description one could use to say Sharlene Murphy wasn't happy. Erin tried to be nice, and be the bigger person, but it was hard. Eventually, Mother made it impossible.

Mother invited them to a concert and dinner, and they'd gone, remaining respectful while Mother made nasty, snide comments in her ever-so-polite way. During the concert intermission, Erin reached out to hold Ryan's hand, needing the contact to keep from yelling at Mom. Mother pointed at their clasped hands and hissed at them to stop "making a scene."

Ryan stared narrow-eyed at her for a moment, then smiled very sweetly and told her—loudly—that she didn’t know what the word "scene" meant. Then he swept Erin into a blistering kiss in front of everyone. When she'd forgotten all about the audience and couldn't breathe, he'd swept her up in his arms like he was carrying her across a threshold.

As he took her out the door, with her trying to keep her not-inconsiderable weight on his shoulders rather than his prosthesis, he yelled over his shoulder. "Now you should understand what the word scene means." They'd gotten more enthusiastic applause than the musicians. Mother hadn't spoken to her for weeks. They were both pretty happy about that.

Erin might invite her to the wedding, but she wasn't willing to promise. Not that he'd asked yet, but they'd talked about it. When it happened, the only people with guaranteed invitations were Deb, Sam, and Wiz. And Ryan's family and old crewmates.

Another good thing had happened when they became a couple. Chaz Cust got the message, loud and clear, that Erin wanted nothing to do with his car or him, and he'd had somebody pick up the blasted Barracuda. Finally. It probably had more to do with Sam filing the protective order request, totally infuriating the Custs and Mother. Again.

Chaz was still skulking around, hitting on Deb and Sam, but he was very careful to avoid Erin. Nasty old Mrs. Cust took every opportunity she could to complain about Erin and her business, but it hadn't affected her bottom line at all. The Marcus City Bank notified Erin they were reevaluating her loan, but when their assessor finished his report, Mother's attempt backfired—Erin's business was worth more than ever. Mother didn't say a word about it, probably because they weren't speaking by then.

She still sent invitations for Erin to come to events, but friends told Erin that Mother was still bringing those same iffy-looking "gentlemen" to every performance. Erin turned her down via text message. But she was getting worried. Mother looked stressed, but when Erin had asked before their big blow-up, she brushed Erin's concerns away or said she was imagining things. But every time Erin drove to the bank, it seemed more of those "wise guys" were around, either waiting in cars outside or in the lobby. Deb kept turning down offers to invest in her bakery, too, reporting several of the men had warned her that not accepting their “help” was dangerous. Two of them had heavy accents; Deb thought it was Russian but couldn’t be sure. Mother wouldn't tell her what was going on, so there was nothing she could do.

Since her mother couldn’t be helped, Erin concentrated on Ryan and her business. She filled the empty spot in the garage with a 1972 Ford Bronco and was tricking it out with a hot engine and a very nice, but practical, interior. Ryan's advice was making it a true man-mobile, and he thought they were going to make a very good profit. It was really his Christmas present; she could hardly wait to see the look on his face when she gave him the keys.

Ryan quit Kelly's and was working the coffee shop full-time, but eventually, they planned to find someone new to exchange the apartment for work, and then Ryan could work with her in the garage in the afternoons. Hopefully, they could find another veteran to fill that opening, preferably a friend transitioning from military life.

Wiz asked them to look at some property and houses, and they thought they'd found the right one. It sat above the valley in the Sapphire Mountains, bordered by Forest Service land on one side and vast ranches on the other sides, all of which had conservation easements and other protections in place so they couldn't be broken up into subdivisions. The house was bigger than Wiz needed, but it was easy to add the things she wanted, like metal security shutters, a safe room, and a twelve-foot chain-link fence with razor wire at the top surrounding the house.

The property was hugely expensive, but Wiz was loaded and never spent money on anything but security and weapons, so that wasn't a problem. Besides, her Fortress of Solitude back in Washington would sell for a ton of money, so she'd probably break even. And Wiz wouldn't put any of her money in Mother's bank. She said their cyber security was completely inadequate. Erin happily relayed that tidbit to Mother the last time she'd called to complain about Ryan and Chaz Cust.

But three days ago, Wiz called her, warning Erin her mother was dealing with dangerous people. Wiz had discovered that new investors in her mother’s bank were members of the Russian Bratva—the mob. They weren’t “wise guys” like the movie mobsters—they trafficked drugs and people and killed with little provocation. But since Mother wouldn’t talk to her, and she was a fully capable, independent adult, Erin could do nothing.

Other than her worries about Mother, her life was amazingly good. Erin gazed at all the happy customers in her immaculately clean coffee shop. Ryan was joking with the older ladies but smiled and raised his brows at Erin. He said something to the ladies, making them all laugh as he walked away. But they aimed envious stares at Erin. She grinned at the women, aware her expression was terribly smug.

Reaching her, Ryan grasped her hand and tugged her into the garage. He locked the door behind them and pulled her to Smoky and into the back seat, where he kissed her wildly. He moved to her ear and neck. "Have I told you how beautiful you are today?"

"Yes, you have, but I don't mind hearing it again," she gasped.

"And did I tell you I love you?"

"Yessss."

"Good. Don't want to make the boss unhappy with me. She might stop sexually harassing me. And that would be terrible."

She slid her hand down his chest. "Don't worry, I have every intention of taking advantage of you in every way possible. But I'll reward you appropriately."

"Yes, you will." He kissed the other side of her neck.

"Sure. All the coffee you can drink." She ran her hands up to his solid shoulders.

"I'll need more than that."

She tried to concentrate, but his hand distracted her. "Ooh, umm. No, you can drive Smoky sometimes, too."

"Something else, 'cause I'd rather watch you drive Smoky. It's hot." He nipped at her earlobe.

"Oh, wow, do that again." Thinking was overrated.

He did. "What else?" Ryan nibbled down her neck.

Why was he still talking? "Your own classic car?"

"I'd rather have something else."

She cupped his face in her hands, pushing him away and ignoring his moan of protest. Erin gazed straight into his beautiful eyes. "How about every bit of my love?"

"Perfect. Coffee, cars, and Erin. There are many out there, but this one is mine. And I'm yours. Forever."

"Forever." They locked lips, and nothing else mattered.

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