Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
“HERE’S…SCOTTY!”
Caroline
I walked into my house and straight to the kitchen where I kicked off my heels and unceremoniously dropped my bags on the floor.
Miles and Stephen’s wedding was almost completely planned. There were only a few more things to check off my list. Like finalizing the music selection and hiring additional parking attendants just in case.
A black tie, three-hundred guest wedding with a sit-down dinner and on-site accommodations was a lot to put together on a standard timeline but having only a few months made it nearly impossible. Well, nearly impossible for anyone except me.
It was tiring, though, especially on top of all my other responsibilities and clients, which made me ever the more thankful for the help I’d hired. Addie had taken on two of the smaller parties and the pre-planning for a wedding set for next year. I wasn’t sure how she found the time with her other job, but she somehow got it done. And always did so with a smile.
My phone buzzed on the counter, but I didn’t check it immediately. I walked to the fridge and pulled out the open bottle of rosé I’d been thinking about the entire drive home. My first thought was to sip directly from the bottle, but I opted for a glass instead.
I poured the remainder of the bottle into the glass and took a sip as I walked back toward my phone. I wasn’t surprised to see Ryder’s name along with a new message. We’d been texting all day, well, all week really. He’d walked me to my car that next morning and made me promise to text him when I got home since I’d missed my nonrefundable workout class.
I’d let him know I was home safe, and we hadn’t stopped talking since.
Ryder: Do you think squirrels intentionally run out into traffic? It sure as hell seems that way sometimes.
I shook my head and set my glass down to type back a response.
Me: Did you know you can have a thought and not send it to me?
His response was almost immediate.
Ryder: Trust me, these are not all my thoughts. I keep many to myself.
Me: That’s terrifying.
At the top of my screen, another text appeared from Natalie. The guilt that churned in my gut every time I saw her or thought about her or talked to or about her was unfortunate but entirely self-inflicted. As much as I hated lying to my best friend, I was more worried about what might happen if she knew. And not seeing Ryder again felt…unlikely. Especially when it was temporary because I knew I was right—eventually he’d want more, and we’d have to stop .
And hopefully the aftermath wouldn’t be too disastrous.
Natalie had sent paint swatches for their bedroom and asked my opinion. I texted her back, opting for the green rather than the dark blue, and flipped back to Ryder’s messages.
Ryder: You home yet?
Me: Yes…
He didn’t respond, and I warily slid my phone back onto the counter. I picked up my glass of wine and went back to the fridge, pulling it open and surveying the contents. What I’d planned to cook—a basic chicken and rice recipe—no longer sounded appetizing. I closed the fridge and grew frustrated with my prospects when I remembered that my favorite Italian restaurant did half-price pasta on Thursdays.
I was walking back to my phone, prepared to call in an order, when my doorbell rang.
I stopped at the edge of the island and peered around the wall into the entryway. It was a stretch, but when I squinted, I could see someone standing just beyond the opaque glass.
Pulling up the front door camera on my phone, I immediately beelined for the door when I realized who it was. I yanked it open and pulled Ryder inside a second later.
“What the hell are you doing here? Your mom is going to see your car!” I whisper-yelled because it felt fitting.
“She won’t if I’m in and out of here like I plan to be!” he whisper-yelled back, which made me stop and consider how ridiculous it was.
“Answer my first question,” I said in a normal voice. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? You’re the only person who’s allowed to show up at someone’s front door unannounced?”
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “Don’t answer my question with a question. And as I know you remember, I showed up at your door wearing the outfit of your dreams, so unl ess you have something scandalous under your shirt and jeans, you lose.”
He narrowed his eyes and rubbed his stubble-covered jaw. “What would you like to see me in? Special kind of briefs? Maybe a T-shirt with the Superman emblem and Clark Kent-style glasses?”
“An Easter Bunny costume. Now, what are you doing here?”
He laughed but still didn’t answer my very pressing question. I opened my mouth to argue as much when he raised a hand and said, “I want to take you somewhere.”
“Take me somewhere?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose like I was the irritating one. “Caroline, please.”
Why did he always have to sound so sincere? It made it hard to brush him off when his voice dropped, and his excitement ebbed. “Where do you want to take me?”
“It’s…a surprise,” he said
I shook my head and stood firm. We were inching into date-like territory, and that was more dangerous than anything. “I don’t think that’s a good?—”
“They have the best mozzarella sticks,” he said, and my argument died. All substance to said argument was further diminished when my stomach growled louder than it had any right to. “It’ll be fun, I promise. I’ll even let you pay for something, so it doesn’t feel too much like a date.”
“Let me?” I questioned, but by his smile, he knew he had me. He closed the distance between us, his hands dropping to my hips, I was greeted by his scent—something deep with a touch of sweetness that I wanted to smell every single moment of every single day.
I didn’t let myself linger on that revelation too long. I leaned in as he did, but the second before our lips touched, the doorbell rang a gain. Both of us stopped, a breath apart, and looked at each other then to the door.
“Are you expecting someone else?”
“Well, I wasn’t expecting anyone to begin with,” I said. He reluctantly let me go, his fingers lingering against my waist for as long as they could. I stepped up to the door and felt Ryder close at my back.
When I swung it open, I wished I hadn’t.
“Scott,” I said by way of greeting. His smile was slow as was his voice when he said, “Hi, Caroline.”
“What are you—what are you doing here? I didn’t know you were in town.”
“Last minute business trip in the city, and I have a free night tonight. I figured I’d surprise you. I have a reservation already. It’s a new French restaurant downtown.”
Two months ago, I would have jumped at his offer. Scott was an executive at an oil and gas company, which required extensive travel. He didn’t live in the city, but when he was here, he always called me. And I always answered.
He didn’t expect anything more than the one night we usually had. It started with dinner at some very nice, expensive restaurant and ended with us in a very fancy penthouse suite at a hotel downtown. He didn’t spare any expense, and it was a good time for all.
Now, I was dumbstruck and not pleasantly surprised.
“I—I see. It’s good to see you, but I don’t think I can?—”
“Hi,” Ryder interrupted my stuttering and stepped into view of the open door. I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath. I was living a nightmare, but unfortunately, it was my real life. Waking up wasn’t an option.
I opened my eyes in time to see Ryder extending his hand. Scott quickly glanced from me to it.
“I’m Ryder. It’s nice to meet you, Scott, was it?”
Scott took Ryder’s hand and shook it once with a tight-lipped smile. The saying, “you could cut the tension with a knife,” wasn ’t strong enough. You would need a chainsaw or some other gas-powered tool to cut through the tension weighing down the air around us.
“Nice to meet you,” Scott said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I probably should have called first.”
“It’s not a problem,” I said automatically, and I caught Ryder glance at me out of the corner of my eye. I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t know what else to say that didn’t involve screaming and running away.
“I’ll just call you later, Caroline,” Scott said, and rather than open my mouth to cause more of an issue, I nodded and tried for a smile. “Nice to meet you, Ryder.”
Ryder waved, and I couldn’t get the door closed quickly enough. I shut it, locked it, and leaned against the glass. Deciding that it wasn’t a good idea to bang my head against it, I shut my eyes and attempted to recompose myself.
Scott was a man of his word—he would absolutely call me later, and I had no idea what I was going to do when my phone rang. It wasn’t my intention to sleep with anyone else—honestly, I wasn’t really interested—but doing so would unequivocally prove to Ryder how serious I was about not wanting anything more.
I knew it was an awful thing to do or to even think, but that didn’t keep the thought from creeping in and taking root.
I opened my eyes and straightened to find Ryder watching me, arms crossed in front of him and eyebrows raised. Smoothing my hands down my dress, I matched his stance, crossing my arms but trying for an unbothered expression.
We stared at one another for a long while. Long enough that my eyes went dry, and I began to feel uncomfortable with the distance between us. The urge to cross to him was strong. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and I noticed his hands flex from beneath his arms.
Finally, he relaxed and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I know you’re hungry, so we should probably get going. ”
“What?” It wasn’t the last thing I expected him to say, but it was definitely low on the list.
“Do you want to change first or…?”
My arms fell to my sides, and I shook my head as I walked past him and down the hallway toward my bedroom. I heard Ryder’s steady steps behind me and headed straight through my bedroom and into my closet.
I surveyed the clothes hanging around me and spun around when I heard him enter. He was leaned against the doorframe, arms and ankles crossed, looking better than he had any right to which made me even more frustrated.
“What should I wear?”
He shrugged and glanced around the room. “Something casual. Jeans, shorts, sneakers, that kind of thing.”
With a huff, I found a pair of jeans and pretended to ignore the feeling of Ryder’s eyes on me as I tried to unzip my dress. Getting it on was easy, but removing it was much harder. Especially when I was amped up.
Before I had a chance to try again, Ryder was behind me. Tender fingers brushed against my neck and lowered the zipper. He didn’t linger and stepped back far enough for me to slip the dress off and my jeans on. I grabbed the first top I saw and a white pair of sneakers.
Dressed and ready to go, I turned to find Ryder had gone back to leaning against the doorframe.
“Good?” I asked, walking toward him and motioning to my new outfit. He inclined his head as I stopped in front of him but didn’t appear interested in moving to let me pass.
A stare-down commenced. But it didn’t last as long as the one in my entryway. Ryder’s offset smile graced his face, and I stiffened.
“Why are you mad, Caroline? Because he showed up or because I didn’t react?”
I brushed a piece of hair that had fallen from my clip out of my face and cocked my head to the side .
“I’m not mad.”
He snorted out a halfhearted laugh and straightened to his full height. “Okay, whatever you say. I just don’t think there’s any reason for me to be jealous.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“Because he left, and you’re coming with me. In this scenario, I won. And when he calls you later, you’re not going to pick up.”
I ran my tongue along my teeth and stuffed my hands into my jean’s pockets, searching for something to do with them. I felt raw under Ryder’s stare. Like he was seeing too much of me, knew too much of me.
“He probably won’t call. I think you did a good job scaring him off.”
Ryder laughed, and the sound bounced off the walls of my small walk-in closet.
“He’ll call.”
“You sound very confident discussing the behavior of a man you don’t even know.”
He took a step forward, one hand in his own pocket, the other reached for me. I could’ve stepped back or ducked around him. I had an opportunity to flee the closeness, but I didn’t. I stood there as he clasped my jaw and ran his thumb over my cheek. I was frozen as he surveyed my face with a sweet tilt to his lips.
“I know he’ll call, pretty girl, because you’re Caroline Grant. And no man is stupid enough to let you slip away without a fight.”