Ryder Cook Mom Novels & Stories

Just like that everything ruined even my confidence as a mother. I’m back to the jail of the past… “Mom!” Clyde look up and wave his hand, “come here, let’s play together!” He smiles widely at me. I wave my hand back at him, “I will cook first, just enjoy but don’t push him too hard.” About Zafer. “I won’t, Mister is just my bodyguard!” He giggles again and looks at Zafer who salutes him. They both chuckled, “can I request something, mom?” He said.

She was all about family and had shown me the joys of being surrounded by your blood. So what happened? What had caused the rift between us these last few years? I thought really hard and tried to remember but kept drawing a blank. I closed my eyes and slid down in my chair as if falling asleep, but my mind was working in a way it hadn't in a long time. I still would give my left nut for something to take the edge off. *** "Ryder, what are you doing here? I thought you were on tour halfway across the world." "I am, mom, but I need something from you. I need your help with something."

I love the way Cody looks at me, it’s like he is drinking me in like a tall glass of cold lemonade on a bright, scorching summer’s day. I woke up content this morning, albeit a little tired from being up until the early hours having sex and making love with Cody, I am sore but it’s that kind of sore that reminds you what an amazing night you just had. The restaurant was busy earlier, Mom came in with some pies and cakes and the Christmas puddings that she has been making over the last few weeks. Okay, she’s been prepping and making them since before Thanksgiving. We got a channel sorted out for her on YouTube and we did a few Christmas baking with Mom slots and you know what, I am so proud t

a poor girl like me wouldn't be able to pay for anything I dared spoil. I sat between Ryder and Debbie, across from their mother, who wore a navy blouse and that effortless calm that somehow made me sit straighter without being told. Everything about the room said watch your manners. I didn’t touch the bread. “I hope you like roasted turkey,” Ryder’s mom said kindly. “Our chef insists on doing things the old-fashioned way.” “It... smells amazing,” I replied, meaning it... but still afraid I might reach for the wrong glass and be exiled from the estate.

Mom said brightly, looking between us, "why don't we just have breakfast together? Looks like I joined you two early enough." I smiled. At least she was happy. "Sure." Ryder sat beside my mom while I took the seat opposite them. He divided his attention between his breakfast and whatever was on his phone. Mom was doing almost the exact same thing. She answered a quick phone call while eating before finally tossing her phone onto the table with an exhausted sigh. "What's up?" I asked. "Damn event planners need to give me a break." Oh. "I thought I told you to let me handle it," Ryder said.

Chelsea teased. The thing with my mom is that she likes to think and to act like a teenage girl, the fact that she is about to hit fifty as never settled in her brain. "Well," I shrugged a bit and picked up my glass of tequila. "The only way I stopped her from following me is by making her think I was going to church." "Oh girl, you could have come with her. I like your mommy, she is so fun," Stacie pouted at me making me feel guilty right now.

"Vera, you've got enough on your plate with Luca. Let someone else handle it." So I sat back down. To my surprise, the food Hailey put out looked amazing—picture-perfect and mouthwatering. And it tasted just as good. Claudia, ever the first to dig in, speared a piece of baked ribs, chewed, and paused. Her brow furrowed. "This is from the restaurant down the street, isn't it? I know their ribs anywhere." Hailey froze, her head ducking. Claudia's eyes narrowed. "That place isn't cheap. What's your plan here—takeout for every meal? Are you trying to burn through our money? If you can't cook without shortcuts, what's the point?"

She'd crack soon, drawn inexorably to him, her body surrendering before her mind caught up. The next morning, Aurelia slipped into a simple tank top with thin straps that hugged her shoulders and loose pants that swayed with her steps. The morning sun filtered through the mansion's tall windows as she padded downstairs, her phone buzzing in her hand. She typed a quick reply to Mira's latest message, fingers flying over the screen about the chaos of settling in. In the kitchen, the sizzle of eggs and the aroma of bacon greeted her, an unusual sight. Selene rarely cooked; she preferred delegating to the staff or grabbing takeout. Her mother stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practice

she said. He looked at her. “Same principle,” he agreed. Her mother at the stove, already there, already in the specific focused state of someone cooking for people she loved. Multiple pans. The smell of things she hadn’t smelled in months. “Sit,” her mother said. “Both of you. You’ve been on planes.” They sat. Her father sat across from them. He poured tea without asking. Pushed Ryder’s cup across the table. Looked at him. “You teach at Meridian,” he said.

I guess the look on my face said it all, because Drake decided to answer my unspoken question. “Not bad right? My mom catered to Ryder a lot. She was always desperate for his attention.”