Chapter Fourteen Seraphina
Chapter Fourteen
Seraphina
The smell of bacon and eggs and heaven had me walking barefoot down the hall, following the delicious aroma. I’d nearly forgotten where I was and why I was there until I found the quiet stranger who’d yet to speak a word to me, not even back in Miami, cooking in the kitchen.
“Good morning.” I hung back in the living room on the other side of the breakfast bar in the open-concept space. Bright light spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling window, offering new-day vibes I wanted to latch on to. They were certainly needed.
The guy cooking looked over at me and nodded his hello, and my greedy stomach growled at the smell and sight of the food.
“Don’t mind him. He doesn’t like people.” That was a voice I recognized.
I turned to see Alex joining us, a mug in hand, which I hoped meant there was coffee for me. I lifted my nose, searching for my favorite smell, but it must’ve been smothered by the scent of bacon and eggs cooking.
“That’s Reed, by the way. A ray of fucking sunshine, isn’t he?” Alex walked past me and went into the kitchen.
“Fuck you,” Reed countered in a semi-amused tone without looking up at him.
“See? He speaks. He’s just not people-y.” Alex set aside his cup and wasted no time in pouring one for me.
“I could fall in love with you for this,” I teased, grateful that the sleep I’d somehow managed to get had helped my mood.
“Please don’t.” Alex’s brows pinched, and he didn’t let go of the handle even though I’d parked my palms on either side of the hot-to-the-touch mug.
“Oh yeah? Why not?”
He looked over my shoulder somewhere, and then it clicked.
Ah, because of the grump. “Gotcha. You’re safe, don’t worry.”
“Appreciated. I like my head as it is: attached.” Alex winked, then finally let go of the mug and stole a piece of cooked bacon set aside on a paper towel.
“Where’s Ryder?” I asked after taking that first incredible sip.
“In his room. First door on the left.” Alex crossed one ankle over the other and rested a palm on the counter at his side. “I sent him there a few hours ago when I found him sleeping in a chair in front of the door here. Took over for him.”
“Doesn’t trust I won’t run, huh?” I gave a little teasing bow. “Still here, as you can see.” After a few more indulgent sips of the java, I turned toward the direction of Ryder’s bedroom. “Give me a minute alone with him?”
“Take all the minutes you need,” he said as I mindlessly held out my mug his way, assuming he’d take it from me, and he did.
I went to Ryder’s door, and from the corner of my eye, I could still see Alex and Reed in the kitchen, bickering now like a married couple about the appropriate crispiness of bacon.
Two knocks later, Ryder wrested my attention his way.
Door open, he was standing there with a pale-green towel hung low around his hips. Water droplets rolled down his naked chest. Wet eyelashes framed those ridiculously beautiful eyes. Hair slicked back from the shower. There were a few noticeable welts on his body from the fight last night.
“Sore?”
“I’m fine.” That was a lie. It had to be.
“I thought you were supposed to be honest?”
“I’ve dealt with much worse; that was me being honest.” His bladed jawline tightened, and I decided to leave it at that.
He propped his hand up on the doorframe, blocking entry to his room. Maybe that was for the best. Hallway conversations were safer, especially with him in a towel, with his hard body and those sexy V-lines on display.
“You’re still here, I see. You didn’t leave.”
“Not that you’d have let me escape if I’d tried.
” I planned to make a valiant effort to look away from his body and up to his face.
But God help me, a toned, strong body like this needed to be studied.
Appreciated. Maybe I was objectifying him, though?
And at that thought, I finally spoke again.
“From what I heard, you didn’t sleep much. ”
“Alex gave me no choice, forcing me to rest.” He raised his voice and added, “Thinks he’s my father even though he’s younger than me.”
“By only a year,” Alex shouted back. “And if I don’t look out for you, who will?”
Ryder shook his head, then removed himself as an obstacle to his room. “If you’d like to talk, let’s do it without him listening.”
I wasn’t sure it was the best idea to be alone with him in only a towel, but I couldn’t say no. His muscles lured me in, and I quietly obeyed without another thought.
“I take it you’re here to apologize?” His stiff arms flew swiftly over his chest as he eyed me, placing his back against the bedroom door.
“Is that your way of starting the morning off with a joke?”
“It was worth a shot.” He shrugged, still sporting a grumpy expression that he managed to pull off as sexy. “So, did you come to your senses?”
The jabs kept on coming. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person like I was.
“Clearly not, or I wouldn’t be alone with you in your bedroom.” Zero excuses this time. Totally sober and rested just enough to make my own choices. Candy wouldn’t bait me to be alone with a stranger, but a happy trail beneath a handsome man’s navel leading to happier places certainly could.
“Would you like to go?” He motioned to the door.
“Like go go? As in leave this condo?” I smirked, and he hit me back with a little growly frown that I couldn’t help but find adorable and endearing.
Doubtful that’d been his intention. “I’m where I currently need to be.
” I extended my arm, offering my hand. “I thought we could start over. New day, new start. I’m Seraphina Torres. ”
He stared at my hand as if there were a grenade in it. So, you know, off to a great start.
“Ryder Lawson.” The hesitancy in his tone was unmistakable, but the moment he accepted my palm, a current of electricity thrummed from his warm skin up into my fingertips, shooting straight into my arm, becoming an arrow to my heart.
Still holding his hand, I lifted my eyes to register his reaction. Had he felt that, too? Based on the quickening of his breaths and nostrils flaring, albeit subtly, he had.
“Before I spill my guts about everything—like I assume you all plan to ask me to do—I thought maybe you could convince me why I should.” Message delivered. Mission accomplished.
“Would you like me to get dressed first before we have this chat?”
I finally found the strength to remove my hand from his grip. “Something about sharing your truths while naked has me believing you’ll be even more honest.” I blinked a few times. “Or maybe I’m mixing that up with the picture-your-audience-naked-when-public-speaking thing.”
He granted me the smallest of smiles, then decided to tease me back. His hand went to where the towel was tied at his hip. “So, naked naked, that’s what you want?”
Yes. But I shot my hand out to stop him, and he grinned and lowered his hand to his side. “Good to know you have a sense of humor and other sides to you. Gentleman hero one minute, cocky fighter the next. And, well”—I waved my hand between us—“whatever this side of you is.”
“We’re only just getting started,” he said huskily. “I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”
Did he realize how that sounded, especially with how he’d said it? Because damn.
His shoulders relaxed, and so did the muscles in his face. “What would you like to know that’ll have you feeling more compelled to become an open book for me?”
“Well, I assume you have a file on me, yes?” At his nod, I announced, “Then it’s only fair I know more about you.”
“Why do you need to know my background?” He angled his head, eyes tight on me.
“You want me to trust you, then prove to me I can. Stop being a stranger.”
He looked down at the floor, possibly contemplating his options. Weighing the decision of what to do and how to best handle me.
While I waited for him to make up his mind, I went over to his bed and sat.
“Thank you for wearing clothes, by the way,” he grumbled.
“As opposed to a towel like you?” I sighed, fighting a smile, knowing the effect I had on him was the same he was having on me. He wanted me to be an open book, and here we were, already on the same page.
His lips twitched, and if I were looking south of his navel, maybe his dick did, too, but I’d never know, because I was locked on to his face. That angular jawline covered in scruff. The sinful mouth I imagined against mine.
“Bullet points,” he said instead of entertaining my teasing towel comment. “I’ll give you a few.”
“Any context with them?” I set my hands on either side of me as he approached the bed.
“No context was given in my file about you. So, fair is fair.” His hands flexed and unflexed at his sides, drawing my eyes to the one vein shooting down his forearm.
“I’m thirty-eight. Raised by my mom. Went to Princeton on a scholarship because I’d never be able to afford school otherwise.
Spoke to some military recruiters my senior year and signed up for the army after graduating.
Became a Tier One guy. Delta Force. Two years ago, I got out.
Joined a PMC firm that only hires Delta. Small unit. Only three of us now.”
Ah, right, there were four Saturday. Now I was wondering what happened to the other guy, but not enough to ask.
“We take cases for the government when their hands are tied by red tape,” he added. “And also, I speak four languages, but I’m now wishing it was five.”
I’d been about to press him on which government agencies, but he caught me off guard with his last line. “Which language?”
“ Espanol. ” A smile came and went with his answer.
“Oh.” I wet my lips, and he redirected his focus to my mouth.
Moth. Flame. No chance to resist. Same for me.
“And, um, where were you born and raised?” I asked.
“Born in Chicago. Moved to North Dakota when I was seven and lived there until college.” Short, quick, and to the point, which told me he didn’t want to go in-depth.
“Any siblings?”
He shook his head. “Just me.”
“Well, um, I’m going out on a limb here and assuming you’re single?”