11. Papaya #3
Evan nodded slowly. They sat quietly for a moment, then Evan said lightly, “If you accidentally sleepover and wind up here for coffee, I bought some new stuff you’ve got to try.”
“Dark roast?”
“Naturally.”
“Local?”
“Of course.”
T ablecloths were genius. Zoe wasn’t fond of them for Halseth’s, nor at home, as she preferred the raw wood look. It suited the Pacific Northwest vibe better.
However, the long white tablecloths at the Italian place covered her bloated tummy nicely.
If it was actually a baby bump, she might enjoy it, maybe, but instead, anyone who knew gushed that she was starting to show, but she was pretty sure it was just constipation and bloating puffing out her pooch and making her pants feel tight.
Going for comfort and cuteness tonight, Zoe wore a rare dress.
Simple, cotton—not a date dress—but no tummy compression.
Definitely not a date dress. It coincidentally showed off her legs, but Ryder couldn’t see her lower half anyway.
“Water for me too,” Ryder answered the server, mimicking Zoe’s order.
“You can have a glass of wine.”
“You can’t, so I’d feel bad,” he said, while the server waited patiently in his formal attire with his hands folded over his middle.
“If you order wine, I can smell it and dream.”
Ryder considered a moment, and ordered the house red. As the server walked away, he laughed softly and said, “I’m not sure if sniffing is imbibing, but I suppose you won’t be ingesting…”
“I always thought people were just trying to be funny about their cravings, but I’m craving wine—and I hate wine. I’m a beer sort of girl, but I want fermented grapes right now.”
“You know what they call alcohol cravings…” His glowy blue eyes lit up as he teased her.
“Shush. I work at least five evenings a week, thus I have no time to become an alcoholic, whether I want to overindulge or not.”
Ryder seemed to finally relax, his shoulders melting and he rested his forearms lazily on the table. Of course, in the fanciest restaurant in town, he would relax. “Early in my career, I learned to not try to outdrink clients or colleagues. It leads to sloppy work and a nasty habit.”
“I can imagine. Evan majored in business, and said half the learning curve was schmoozing, which meant partying.” Zoe copied his demeanor and took a long, relaxing breath. “How do your clients, or your boss feel, when you don’t drink them under the table? Doesn’t that reduce their liking of you?”
His eyebrows lifted, and he shook his head to add gravity to his answer.
“I finally figured out to go up to the bar—alone—under the pretense of buying a round for everyone to show off my generosity, then I order myself a cranberry and tonic or something for myself, and whatever fancy drinks they want. Expensive, but worth it for the clear head.”
“Clever. I like it.” Zoe leaned in and tilted her head for more gossip. “Tell me more trade secrets.”
Suddenly shy, his cheeks flushed and he grinned with embarrassment until his dimple dented his cheek. “I don’t want to waste a rare night out talking about work. Second, I would bore you to tears within five minutes.”
“Then tell me something you do like about your job. When you get all excited and passionate about something, you light up and it is irresistible.” Zoe flashed a giddy grin, daring him to open up.
He snorted a laugh that shouldn’t be nearly so adorable, but it was cute on him.
Dammit, she wasn’t supposed to be flirting. If she hadn’t let it slip, that she’d broken up with Raphe, she could hide behind pretending she was seeing someone else. Without that shield… she’d already proven she was a sucker for Ryder Mallory.
“Maybe,” he said, holding her look and settling so solidly in the present, making her feel like the only person in the room.
His wine slid onto the table, and he gently thanked the server, but his focus remained on Zoe.
“How about tonight, no work, no babies, just you and me. Tell me something I would never guess about you.”
“Okay, I see where you’re going with this.” Zoe drew a long sip of water and pondered. “I’m really boring.”
“You are anything but boring. Come on. I can dig deep, but just go with whatever comes to mind.”
Lips pursed together, she looked around the room for inspiration. “Oh. Got one. I hate onions—or anything crunchy—in my guacamole. Avocado, salt, lime. That’s it. Everything else messes with the texture.”
“That sounded like work,” he teased. “Although, I like my guacamole as doctored up as possible. The works.”
“You won’t find that at Halseth’s,” she said, her smile widening as she studied him studying her. “Your turn. I’ll come up with something while you go.”
He looked around the table, at a few other tables, and scowled. “You know that thing where you tie a cherry stem in a knot with just your tongue?”
“Yes…” Zoe was already laughing, picturing it.
“I can do that.”
“Really?” A blush pinked her cheeks and she wiggled in her chair, the zing shooting straight to where she wanted to feel that tongue again. “Actually I’m not surprised.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, and tipped a nod in her direction. “You’re up.”
“I don’t know any party tricks like that.” Zoe shook her head and lifted her water glass to distract herself from staring at his mouth and wonder what that wicked tongue was up to. “Um… Oh, wait. Got it. I can break out of handcuffs.”
Ryder scowled and scrunched his nose and smiled all at once, as confused as the expression. “How, exactly, did you acquire this skill? And how do you know this?”
Zoe tipped her chin up and dared him to guess.
Adorably sweet, he just shook his head, his dimple growing deeper as his smile grew more and more confused.
“I dated a cop for a while.”
He bit his lips together and looked side-eyed at her. “Roleplaying or S-and-M?”
“Neither.” Zoe snorted a laugh, loving getting him worked up. “Mostly. I was playing around one day and discovered I have natural talent.”
“Was he impressed? I mean, it can’t be an easy thing to accomplish.”
“That might have inspired a few roleplaying sorts of…” Zoe cleared her throat and hoped her blush wasn’t obvious. “But that’s not the point.”
While Ryder watched her with curious interest, he lifted his wine to take a sip, but slid it over for Zoe to sniff first.
She inhaled deeply, and disappointment filled her senses. “That wasn’t as good as I was hoping. I mean, I’m sure it’s fine. Even pregnant, I still like the idea of wine better than the smell of it, apparently.” She slid it back over.
“I used to be obsessive about ordering a drink to match the meal.”
“Ugh, what a good way to ruin a good meal. I say you should mesh whatever drink and food suits your fancy at the moment.”
“After Claire and I broke up and after Haley’s divorce, I had this great dinner with my siblings, plus Claire and Finn, and there was some ranting about ex’s. Claire was quiet at first, but there were a few things she admitted, it was eye-opening to hear some of the shit that I completely missed.”
“Like the fact that she hates red wine?”
“How did you know?”
Zoe shrugged and scrunched her nose as she tried to read him. “At get-togethers, she and Grady always bring drinks because Finn, Evan, and I bring the food. Anyone who wants red wine has to bring their own, or it always gets missed.”
He nodded and looked into his drink. “Anyway, I guess I’m trying to say, I have messed up a lot of relationships, because I treated them like work.”
“I tend to be a little defensive in relationships.”
“Why?”
“I am a petite female defensive coordinator and a pub chef. I don’t make any sense.”
After a slow, curious sort of sip, Ryder settled comfortably in his chair and fiddled his fingers over the base of the glass.
“Pretend no little swimmers slipped past the condom, that I happened to be up visiting and we bumped into each other, and you asked me out. What would we be doing on our date?”
“Would we not be at Foothills’ favorite date restaurant?”
“I love it, but I know this friend date was entirely inspired by your craving for pasta.”
She shrugged, realizing he was exactly right. “This was probably a dumb idea. We should avoid anything even hinting at romantic.”
“True,” he said, glaring down at his glass.
Laughter, conversation, and the clanking of forks on plates filled the restaurant with sound, the background mid-twentieth century Italian music barely audible.
A second date with Ryder Mallory. What would that look like?
“Honestly, after how the first date went, we’d probably be in my room and using up a few condoms, as I would be more prepared. ”
“No preamble of conversation?” He quietly studied her, tilting a curious look, his tongue fiddling wickedly along the backs of his teeth.
Zoe leaned in and took a measuring, steadying breath. “Then in the morning, after round four, we’d stop by Cascade Bakery for coffee and sugary carbs to compensate for a sleepless night, and we’d go for a drive.”
“In your truck or my rental car?”
“My truck, naturally. I sometimes go on long drives just to clear my head.”
“Where would we go?”
“Anywhere. Nowhere. I think it would be nice, to go with the flow with you, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking, as that is no longer in the realm of impossibility.”
A tray of steaming plates of pasta, pizza, steaks rushed past their table, the server gallantly delivering a feast to the next table over. All smiles, the lucky diners waited patiently for their food, and politely took testing steps, raving over the flavors.
Zoe sniffed the air, her stomach rumbling at the unfairness.
“Ours will be here soon,” Ryder said, with only a hint of sarcasm, and he reached across and patted her hand gently. “Soon,” he said again, full of teasing pandering this time.
Hunger was soon sated, and they managed to talk about benign things for a solid hour while they ate, and even ordered dessert. As this was about as close to a date as Zoe was going to experience anytime soon… oh fucking hell, like, probably for the next three to ten years…
The sun was low when they stepped outside, and the evening chill had blown in with the breeze. Town was bustling under the clear sky, and she knew Halseth’s would be swamped right now.
She pulled into the driveway of the rental house, and looked over at Ryder. “We should have ordered another round of dessert to go.”
“Are you always this expensive to feed?” he teased, and unhooked his seatbelt and turned subtly to face her. “Not many people order another round of bread after dinner, plus tiramisu and raspberry gelato. If this was a real date, I’d be too full to have sex.”
“Lucky thing.” Zoe’s nose scrunched as she grinned at his tease, the flirtiness of his dimpled grin setting her skin prickling. “Walk me in?”
“I’ll tuck you in if you want,” he said, grinning wider and holding her gaze in his until the liquid sky of his melted her down to her toes.
Zoe winked and quickly turned to climb out of the truck. As they neared the front door, Zoe slipped her hand into his, the sweetness of the sensation too easy, stirring but comfortable and she considered letting go before it became a thing.
But she didn’t want to.
They were quiet as they walked into the house, the front room dark aside from the entry lamp. Lights flickered under Evan’s door, and the noise from the TV was not quite audible enough to hear what he was watching.
Here would be good. She should release Ryder’s hand before walking into her bedroom. The front door would have been the wiser choice, but it was too late for that.
Zoe pushed open her bedroom door. Only the bedside lamp she’d forgotten to turn off this morning illuminated the room.
Ryder’s pace slowed, and he began to pull away before coming fully into the room behind her.
Stupid. Definitely a terrible idea.
Zoe pulled him closer and wrapped her other hand around the base of his neck. She lifted to her toes to reach him.
No hesitation, no hemming or hawing or even an awkward breath of deciding if he was in or not, Ryder clutched his free hand around her rear, released her other hand and drew her entirely in.
In the dark of the room, it was too easy to flow into the kiss.
Sweet at first, a craving easing into satisfaction.
Zoe gripped her other hand around him as a desperate yearning peaked and she needed more.
Ryder floundered as he reached to close the door behind them, but was quickly back and kissing her ravenously.
Angling, closer and hands everywhere, Zoe didn’t know where to start. She tugged up his t-shirt and he slipped it over his head before returning for her shirt.
While she worked his belt, his top button, he unsnapped her bra and palmed a breast.
“Ouch,” she hissed, and recoiled but kept her hands busy.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his mouth already trailing down her neck. Quickly shifting his approach, he brushed his thumbs over her breasts with a featherlight touch, only adding delicate pressure when she leaned into him.
The moment she had his zipper undone, she pushed his pants and underwear out of the way and grasped down hard, desperately, and holy hell she wasn’t sure she’d ever been this greedily horny before.
Ryder hissed and ground into her hand, and started working on her pants. “We already used up my wallet condom,” he murmured as he trailed a line of kisses along her shoulder.
“The damage has been done,” she said, teasing a laugh as she tugged him toward the bed.