Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
PENNY
A chirp from my cellphone startled me awake and very nearly out of my own skin. I lifted my head from…my steering wheel?
It’d been a long week, and I’d driven home on autopilot. Parked in the driveway, I’d set my head down for one second.
And thirty minutes had gone by. The sun had dipped behind the green rolling hills, its rays still spilling across the sky in a brilliance of reds, magentas, purples and blues above a line of churning, moody clouds.
I’d seen Kiera at work today. I didn’t always.
Hardly ever, actually. But today, I’d been cleaning up my station, which had taken longer than usual thanks to the new specs Kiera had put out.
I’d been only half paying attention to the complaining about the changes, when someone said, “She’s already a complete control freak, but now we’re going to have inspections?
What kind of bullshit is that? Doesn’t she have anything better to do?
Say, like hire more people, or better yet, pitch in herself ? What the hell?”
I’d spoken without thinking. “She’s been a fair boss, and we get slightly more money than the industry standard.”
Everyone’s eyes had gone wide, and I turned around and had come face to face with Kiera herself. Great, we’re all about to be fired…
But our boss had simply said, “Back to work, please, everyone.”
They’d all scattered like mice. Kiera had given me a brief nod, and for the first time, I saw the Colburn family resemblance, especially in her hazel eyes. I’d still been discombobulated when she walked away.
Now, in my car, an incoming text vibrated my phone.
Wyatt: I’m bored and hungry and there’s nothing to do and why r u just sitting in your car?
Wyatt, of course. God forbid he come out and check me for a pulse. With a sigh, I gathered the leftover food I always brought home from work and headed inside.
“Can you smell what The Rock’s cooking?” Pika-boo asked me.
I snorted. “Hello, smarty-pants, did you choose to use your powers for good or evil today?” It was a real question. Last month we’d had to lock down Alexa after the parrot had figured out how to order snacks from my Amazon account.
Pika-boo sighed dramatically.
I’d always assumed he’d gotten that from Wyatt, but I suddenly realized it was me. “Where’s everyone?”
“Pooping!”
Shaking my head, I looked through the glass slider and saw Grandma and Hank at the patio table, doing a puzzle and chatting. Well, Grandma was chatting. Hank was just nodding his head, occasionally pointing to where he thought a puzzle piece might go.
I could go say hi, but I needed a moment. And a snack. And possibly a new life. I headed into the kitchen and stopped short.
A man lay on his back on the floor, head under the kitchen sink. Arms too. All I could see was torso and long legs, one bent, one straight out in front of him, feet in battered work boots. But I’d recognize that body anywhere.
“Jeez, take a picture,” Wyatt said, and I jumped guiltily.
I hadn’t even noticed him crouched at Ryder’s side, manning a toolbox.
Ryder’s arms appeared from beneath the sink, reaching up to grab the edge of the counter, biceps and triceps bunching as he pulled himself out and sat up in one easy, graceful motion. He was dusty and a little sweaty, and…
Wyatt was right. I should’ve taken a picture.
I’d seen a lot of sides of Ryder. Just the other morning, I’d had to park in the back of his building again.
He had an outdoor patio and grassy area for employees to take breaks and eat outside if they wanted, complete with picnic tables, a fire pit, even a basketball court.
I’d found him and Tucker playing one-on-one with a fierce competitiveness that had been hot as hell.
Sporty Ryder had really done it for me. I also enjoyed Corporate Ryder very much, but Builder Ryder… holy cow.
Of course even Builder Ryder had nothing on Naked Ryder.
He swiped a forearm across his forehead. “Hey,” he said, and maybe it was my imagination, but the tone felt…affectionate. Ev en intimate.
“Hey back.” That was me, master of awkward conversation. I turned to Wyatt, who was watching us. “Homework?”
“Done.”
That was maybe a lie. “Did you get your clothes off your bedroom floor and either into the hamper or put away?”
“Yep.”
For sure a lie. “How about?—”
“Trying to get rid of me?” he asked with a lot of attitude for someone who still texted me when he was hungry. Or inconvenienced by life in any way, shape, or form. “Because I fixed the leaky roof.”
I blinked. “What?”
My brother laughed. For whatever reason, he laughed, and the sound sent my heart pitter-pattering with joy. It’d been a long time, way too long, and I couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my arms around him and squished him in a big hug.
“Ugh,” he said, his arms trapped at his sides. “ Why? ”
I kissed the top of his head. “To torture you.”
“This is child abuse. Call the authorities.”
I tightened my grip. “Tell me you love me.”
He was squirming, but also still laughing. “You need help, you know that?”
“Tell me, or I’ll kiss your face all over.” I made kissy-face noises and he caved like a cheap suitcase.
“Fine! I love you!” When I let him go, he jabbed a finger at me. “That was under duress, so it doesn’t count.”
“Totally counts,” I said.
“Even if I admit I didn’t fix the roof, Ryder did?”
“I’d say duh.”
Ryder grinned at me. At least someone thought I was funny.
“But he showed me how,” Wyatt said, looking so twelve that I wanted to hug him again. “So I can do it next time.”
Ryder nodded, and now my heart pitter-pattered for another reason entirely.
“He let me go up on the ladder and everything,” Wyatt said.
“Happy to have an extra set of hands,” Ryder said.
I knew my brother was starved for a male role model, I’d just never been able to figure out what to do about it.
That Ryder had included him, taught him something new, made him feel important…
I was so grateful. But I knew Wyatt would rather die than have me say any of that, so I looked at Ryder and changed the subject.
“So…did you make cookies?”
He grimaced.
“You didn’t have time,” I guessed. “That’s okay.” I understood. He was a busy guy. It’d been silly for me to even think he’d try?—
“Oh, he made them,” Wyatt said.
Ryder shifted on his feet, a rare tell. “They’re…subpar.”
“How subpar?” I asked.
Ryder rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Let’s put it this way. If the cookies were a restoration job, the building would have collapsed in on itself.”
I fought a smile. “Are you telling me that The Ryder Colburn is bad at something?”
“I didn’t say they’re bad. I said they’re subpar.”
Wyatt snorted, then turned it into a cough when Ryder swiveled to give him a look.
“I wanna see,” I said with gimme hands.
Ryder put his hands on his hips. “Hard pass.”
“I got to see,” Wyatt said, looking quite pleased at being trusted more than me.
“No fair.”
Ryder rolled his eyes but pointed to the container on the counter behind him.
I just about danced over there and opened it up. Then bit my lower lip at the small, flat disks masquerading as cookies. Gamely, I reached for one, but they were stuck together. Still, I was no quitter, especially when it came to cookie tasting, so I broke off a piece and popped it into my mouth.
Wyatt watched me with a grimace, foretelling that I wasn’t in for anything good.
Ryder watched me too, but his gaze was glued to my mouth, darkening as I sucked a bit of chocolate from my thumb. The cookie crunched in my mouth, and not in a good way, but I tried to keep a straight face. And failed.
He put a hand to his chest like I’d stabbed him, watching as my smile grew bigger and bigger. “My cookie failure makes you happy?”
“ Very .”
“She does that,” Wyatt said. “Next she’s going to tell you what you did wrong.”
“I’m not. I wouldn’t do that.” Much. “But…since you asked?—”
“He didn’t,” Wyatt said.
I poked at the cookies. “You didn’t use enough flour, so they didn’t rise. And they spread out too much because you used too much sugar.”
“Told ya,” Wyatt said.
Ryder eyed his cookies with annoyance, then lifted his gaze to mine, shaking his head at my expression.
I playfully poked him in the gut. My finger bounced off his abs. “At least you’re for sure human.”
“What were the options?”
“When I first met you, I thought you might be perfect.”
He blinked. “I’m nowhere near perfect.”
I patted his arm. “Don’t worry, I know that now .”