Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
RYDER
I’d just gotten Hank to bed and was flipping through Reels instead of catching up on paperwork when someone knocked on my front door. Since people usually just let themselves in, I figured it was a late delivery of some sort.
Turned out to be something better.
Penny. “You live in a farmhouse on acreage?” she asked, gesturing to the land all around them.
“Hello to you too.”
She held two grocery bags and wore a sundress, sandals, and an irresistible smile that most would probably label sweet, but I labeled Trouble with a capital T . The very best kind of trouble.
“Busy?” she asked.
For her? Never. “Why? Are you ready to let me take you out for ‘just dinner’?” Something I anticipated far more than I’d let on, not wanting to rush her.
To my surprise, she said, “I’m leaning towards a solid maybe. But not tonight.”
“Still feeling me out?” I teased.
“Can’t be too careful.”
“You’re going to come inside though, right?”
She smiled. “Right.”
I took the bags from her and she walked through my mudroom and into the living room, looking around with interest. “Tell me about this place,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”
“It was built in 1902. I bought it eight years ago, with every inch in disrepair.”
“You renovated.”
“In bits and pieces in my spare time, so it took me five years. There’s still stuff to be done.”
“Did I see a barn?”
“Yes, which is now my woodshop.” I peered inside the bags she’d brought. Flour, salt, butter, chocolate chips… “Round two?”
“If you’re up for it.” She flashed me a grin as she headed toward my kitchen, and I followed after her like a lovestruck puppy. “Figured we could try it the right way this time,” she said, a laugh floating back to me.
“Ha ha.” Her sundress had little straps crisscrossing her back and the lightweight material flowed around her thighs, showing off her toned legs as she moved. I liked the dress, a lot. I’d like it even more on the floor.
“How did you find me?”
“Grandma.” She glanced back. “Wyatt told her about the cookies and how we laughed at your attempt, and she shamed me into coming over here and making it up to you.”
Note to self: Nell deserved a gift basket with her favorite whiskey.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Penny said quietly. “I didn’t even think about what an invasion of your privacy this was.”
I realized she’d stopped, a worried look on her face. “Pen.” Catching her with my free hand, I shook my head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you’re here. I was just about to go dig up some store-bought cookies.”
“The horror.” She smiled with relief, and something else that called to a spot deep inside my chest. Lust, yes, but also…more. “It’s nice in here,” she said. “It’s masculine, but cozy. Like a real home.”
“Thanks.” I tried to see it as she might.
Old, dark gleaming wood floors, high beamed ceiling.
Tall windows. Massive fireplace. A wall lined with shelves and bookcases with a hodgepodge assortment of books and family photos.
My couch was a huge, overstuffed U-shape sofa, big enough for everyone who showed up for game nights.
“I like it too.”
Penny took in the kitchen and sighed in pleasure.
I’d heard that sound from her before, when my mouth had been on her sweet body, but this time, she was melting over the large, open room in front of her.
She ran a hand over the rustic wooden countertops, taking in the handcrafted cupboards, the island with cushioned bar stools.
Last, she looked out the large picture window, past the yard to the creek beyond, lined by weeping willows dipping their long tendrils into the water.
“I’ve got some serious kitchen envy,” she breathed. “Gorgeous.”
I agreed, but I wasn’t looking at the kitchen or the view. Just the amazing woman who was now unpacking everything she’d brought, before hopping up onto my counter to sit, making herself at home. There she brandished a hand, like go ahead.
I laughed. “You’re not going to help?”
“Of course I’m going to help. Think of me as your director. Get out your pan.”
So bossy. It both turned me on and did something to my heart again. I could hear Caleb’s shocked voice saying you’re in love with Penny? I’d denied it then. I still wanted to deny it, but it was getting more difficult by the day.
“Ryder?” she asked while I stood there trying to catch my breath over my shocking epiphany.
Right, she wanted a pan. Which I didn’t have… When I grimaced, she laughed. “I knew it,” she said. “What did you use?”
“An upside-down pot.”
She shrugged. “Nice improv. There’s a new pan in the bag. Where’s Hank?”
“Sleeping.” And hopefully his nosy ass stayed that way.
She walked me through each step, jumping in to help here and there, and before I knew it, the dough sat in a bowl looking…most definitely not like spackle. I followed her lead on forming the dough into little circles and finally slid the pan into the oven.
“I’m setting a timer on my phone,” she said. “Eight minutes.”
I straightened to look at her and laughed. Somehow, she’d gotten dusted in flour.
She looked down at herself, taking in the two distinct handprints low on her hips.
Mine.
And I wasn’t sorry.
She patted her hands in the flour still dusting the countertop, then turned to me, hands out like she was brandishing a weapon, an evil glint in her eye.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned.
“You’re not going to deny my revenge, are you?”
I probably couldn’t deny her a damn thing. But I wasn’t about to give intel to the enemy.
Hopping down from the counter, she slowly sauntered toward me, the material of that sundress playing around her thighs and with my head. When she stood in front of me, she set her hands on my stomach and gave a little push, backing me into a corner.
Loving the aggression, I held up my hands in surrender.
She smirked. “Giving up already? Chicken?—”
The word squealed out of her as I hauled her into me, hoisting her up, wrapping those dreamy legs around my waist, my fingers digging into the sweetest ass on the planet.
Cupping my face, she stared down at me with hungry eyes. “Five minutes until the cookies are ruined. That’s all you’ve got.”
I gave her a wicked smile. “Plenty of time.”
This had her biting her lower lip as if greatly tempted. I promptly forgot to breathe at how heart-stoppingly gorgeous she was with flour all over her face and in her hair, smiling at me like I made her world go around.
“Do you know how hungry I am?” I asked, voice sounding husky to my own ears.
“Don’t worry. The cookies’ll be great.”
“I’m not talking about the cookies.”
Her cheeks went a little pink as we stared at each other.
Yearning. Aching… I felt bowled over with want, could’ve happily drowned in the sensation of all her soft curves in my hands.
Unable to stop myself, I lowered my head and kissed her.
With a sexy little hungry sound, she kissed me back, her floury hands gliding up my chest, my neck and into my hair, gently tightening her fingers, then not so gently, and I groaned, hungry for more of her little moans and shivers, for?—
The timer went off.
Damn.
I let her slowly slide down my body, enjoying the way her breath caught at the full body contact, and the fact we were now both covered in flour.
“Told you,” she said on a wry, regretful laugh as I pulled the cookie sheet from the oven.
Wielding a spatula with expertise, she scooped the cookies off the hot pan and onto a plate.
“Fancy,” I said. “I’d probably have eaten them right off the pan.”
“You’d burn your tongue.” She was looking at my mouth again. “Which would have been a shame.”
I laughed, and then she was sitting on the countertop again, eating a cookie and smiling at me, looking so at home in my kitchen that my heart stuttered.
I stole a bite of her cookie, put the rest of it back onto the plate, then made myself at home as well.
Between her thighs. Heaven. Planting a hand on either side of her hips, I leaned in and?—
“Do you think your dad’s still asleep?” she asked casually.
If there was a God. “Yes.” I started to lean in again, and?—
“The way you have him here with you, taking care of him the way you do…” She smiled up at me sweetly. “Not many would do that. Did you two become closer as you got older?”
I dropped my forehead to her shoulder and let out a rough laugh. I had the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about in hand’s reach and she wanted to talk about good ol’ Hank. “Don’t give me too much credit. My siblings and I drew straws. I got the short one.”
Her pretty eyes were trying to read mine. “You could’ve put him in an assisted living home, but you chose not to.”
“It wasn’t a choice…exactly.” I shook my head. “It’s complicated.”
“Family always is.”
I’d heard Nell discuss her daughter—Penny’s mom—enough to know that the woman had pretty much abandoned her kids. Penny had stepped up in a big way. She’d chosen to. I couldn’t let her think I’d done the same.
“He’s…not good with people. Especially people trying to take care of him.”
She blinked. “Hank? He’s such a quiet, calm guy.”
“Now, yes. But…” I shook my head. “He was military born and bred. He lived and breathed an extremely disciplined lifestyle and expected the same of us. And when his young wife died, leaving him with four half wild, trouble-seeking hooligans, he ruled with an iron fist. Nothing about it was good, nothing. We hated him, Penny.”
“I’m so sorry,” she breathed softly. “What happened?”
“Each of us—me, Caleb, Tucker, Kiera—we all left home the second we could get out of Dodge. I’m still not sure he ever noticed.
When he had his first stroke, he landed in rehab and then assisted living.
He then proceeded to get himself kicked out of every single facility around over the next few years.
None of us wanted him, but we had no choice.
Then, before we could make a plan, he had his second stroke and everything changed. ”