Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
RYDER
It was nine when I walked into my building. Grif, as always, appeared like magic. “Hey, boss, how you doing?”
“Great.” Lie number one, although I was feeling much better after pancakes with the twins, and then an hour at the park behind the Colburn Restorations building, playing tennis with Hazel, where she’d handed me my own ass.
But I’d rebuilt my inner crumbling walls and hopefully at least looked like I had my shit together.
But apparently not enough to fool Grif, who handed me a smoothie. “Drink this.”
I stared at it. “Again with the green.”
“Yep, and again, you’ll feel solid as a rock after.”
“Great,” I said again. Lie number two. Even though I appreciated his fueling me up, I still had to force them down. “Thanks.”
Next he handed me an iPad loaded with all my messages, my schedule for the day, and probably my blood pressure and sugar levels. Grif was nothing if not thorough.
In the office that was never supposed to have become mine, I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows and let out a slow breath.
I knew it was the nightmare bringing everything to the surface, but I couldn’t help but remember how much Auggie had loved it in here.
Loved the way the early morning sun cast the entire room in gold.
Loved the view of the cliffs and bluffs.
Loved that he could hear the hustle and bustle in the building from here. I tried to find the comfort in that.
“Hey,” Caleb said from the doorway.
I turned to face him and Tucker, and both of their easy smiles faded.
“What’s wrong?” Tucker asked, voice low and calm, body braced for anything.
“Nothing,” I said, lie number three. Look at me go.
“Lie,” Tucker said in that same I’m-prepared-for-anything voice.
“It’s nothing.”
“Another lie,” Caleb said. “Something definitely crawled up your ass this morning. Spit it out.”
I blew out a breath. “Hank…held my hand.”
They both blinked.
“I’m sorry,” Caleb said. “What?”
“He held my fucking hand. And then he patted me on the head.”
Caleb dropped into a chair. Tucker, also looking stunned, remained upright.
I shook my head. “He’s never…”
“Touched any of us for anything remotely related to comfort?” Caleb asked.
“Yeah.”
Caleb looked unsettled. “What a mindfuck, huh?”
Tucker didn’t say anything, just stood there, shields up as always when it came to dealing with Hank, never revealing his feelings on the matter. Or on anything, really.
I shook it off. “Why are you guys here? Aren’t you two supposed to be walking the new Henderson job?”
At the subject change, Tucker stirred. “It’s in the center of the area that flooded during last week’s rains,” he said. “Apparently, the road to the property is closed this week for repairs. Caltrans is on it. Didn’t you read your texts?”
Caleb shrugged. “Maybe he’s been busy planning how to get injured on the job so he could play doctor with Penny again.”
I drew a careful breath instead of wrapping my hands around his neck as I wanted. “If you’re not in the field, then spend the day taking that online course on the new inventory system we’re going to implement. I need an expert. You’re it.”
Caleb, who’d hated school, grimaced. “You know that I can figure out the inventory system on my own once we get it.”
He was excellent on the fly, going through life by the seat of his pants. He’d actually turned it into an art form, but he didn’t always think everything through.
“It’s also a cert program. It’s good for your resume, it’s good for us, and it comes with a pay hike.”
“Well, damn. You should’ve led with that.”
The guy was full of shit. He wasn’t motivated by money, never had been. He wanted to be valued, craved a challenge, and needed to know he mattered. He’d found all of that here, and I was grateful. All I wanted was for him to be happy. Same with Tucker and Kiera.
So far, it’d been an uphill battle.
Tucker stepped out to take a call, and Caleb headed to the door after him, stopping to casually say, “Oh, and she’s in the kitchen.”
“Who?”
He snorted. “I hope that smoothie has ginkgo biloba in it, old man.”
“Oh, it does. Make sure you go see Bill. He’s got a permit problem. Apparently he and Scott at the city office got into it. Bill told him he’s an idiot.”
“Because he is an idiot.”
“Irrelevant,” I said. “Scott said you’re up. He’ll get you through in a timely manner.”
“Yeah, well, his sense of timely and the rest of the world’s sense of timely are two different things.”
“This is a you problem. Fixer .”
Caleb handed me his coffee, taking my smoothie instead. “For your attitude problem.”
“I don’t have an attitude problem.” I sniffed his coffee. “Decaf ?”
“Hell, no. Decaf only works if you throw it at people.”
I took a tentative sip and nearly gagged. “This isn’t coffee. It’s sugar with a drop of coffee.”
“And?”
I swapped back for the smoothie.
He shrugged and, sipping his sugar, walked out.
I eyed the clock and told myself it was the perfect time to grab my own caffeine—from the staff kitchen. This made lie number four.
It wasn’t caffeine I sought.
I stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight of Penny singing and shimmying as she unloaded her cart, her tone so horrifically and endearingly off-key that I couldn’t even place the song.
“Morning,” I said.
Nothing. She was wearing earphones, continuing to shake her groove thing. Moving into her line of sight, I waved.
With a squeak, she dropped into some sort of kung fu pose, similar to that morning all those weeks ago in Nell’s dark hallway.
“Ohmigod,” she gasped when she realized it was me. “What are you doing?”
“Watching you dance like no one was watching.”
“Because I thought no one was watching!”
“I couldn’t look away,” I admitted.
“Creeper.” But her face softened, and she moved toward me.
And then right into my arms like she belonged there. “You were smiling,” I murmured, “looking so carefree and beautiful.”
As always, uncomfortable with a compliment, she blew it off.
“And you took five years off my life.” Slipping out of my arms—after giving me an affectionate squeeze—she went back to work, pulling leftovers from her last load, of which there was precious little since everyone here loved her food, and then replacing with new.
“You are, you know,” I said quietly. “Beautiful.”
She snorted, and as she brushed past me, I snagged her hand and reeled her in, using my other hand to stroke the hair from her face.
“Why do you always do that?”
I smiled. “For the excuse to touch you.” I did it again. “Love your wild hair. Love the color of your eyes too, and how they lighten and darken depending on your mood. Like right now for instance, they’re darker than normal because you think I’m full of shit.”
She laughed. “You are.”
“Love your voice too,” I told her. “When you’re happy, it’s light and musical.
When I kiss you, it goes all thick and throaty.
And ,” I said while she stared up at me, “when you’re pissed off…
” I smiled when her eyes narrowed. “It comes out low and husky with a tinge of I’ll-kick-your-ass. That’s my favorite.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And then there are your moods.”
“I only have two,” she said. “Working my ass off and fast asleep.”
I hated how hard she had to work, the long hours. “You’re missing a few. Like…sassy and feisty.” I smiled. “I especially love when either of those are aimed at me.”
She rolled her eyes.
“ And smart-assery,” I murmured.
“That’s not a mood.”
“It is, and you’ve turned it into a fine art.” The pad of my thumb ran lightly over her bottom lip, which I wanted to nibble more than I wanted my next lungful of air. As if she felt the same, she drew a shaky breath.
And then bit my finger.
I hissed in a breath while laughing at the same time. “See? Sassy, feisty, and smart-assery.”
“You think you’ve got me figured out, huh?” She shook her head, and began stacking the now empty trays, sliding them into big insulated bags and setting them back onto the cart. When she was completely done, she turned to me, then cocked her head. “I think I missed something.”
“What?”
“You tell me,” she said, coming close again, studying my face. “You okay?”
“Of course.” I’d lost track of what number lie that was.
Her gaze held mine for another beat, humor gone. “Do you always get away with deflecting like that?”
“I’m pretty good at it,” I admitted. “As are you.”
She dipped her head in acknowledgment.
My fingers entangled with hers. I wanted past her walls, which felt…dangerous. A woman like Penny would deserve—and expect—me to reciprocate, but after burying my emotions out of self-preservation since I’d been a kid, I was shit at it.
“Fact,” she said. “I’m good at making people believe whatever I want them to believe about me. But…” She held my gaze. “You’re different. I don’t know what it is, but something makes me want to let you in.”
“I’m irresistible.”
“Or annoying.”
I laughed. “Also that.” I held her gaze. “And you make me want to let you in too, which I’m not even sure I know how to do.”
She nodded and surprised me when she reached up and slid a hand to my jaw, her fingers gliding over the stubble there like she enjoyed the feel of it. “I’m not good at this whole opening up thing, so maybe we could start easy.”
“Your pace,” I said, not quite sure what we were doing. It didn’t matter, I was already 100% in. “How do you want to start?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lower lip. “Maybe…maybe we tell each other something that no one else knows. Just one little thing, and since we both have to get to work, we don’t have time to discuss or overthink. Ea sy peasy, right?”
I laughed. Easy peasy. “Right.”
“You first,” she said. “Tell me why your eyes are sad today.”
I almost joked it off, giving her a flip answer, but she was leaning in a little, eyes warm and curious and sweet. She really wanted to know. And in return, she’d give me a nugget of her own, and I wanted that. Badly.
So I said, “I had a nightmare about Auggie.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh,” she breathed. “How awful.” And then she stepped in close and wrapped herself around me in a full body hug.
I was so stunned it took me a moment to react, but then my arms closed around her, soaking up her warmth and the way she tightened her grip on me like I was something she cared deeply about, and I felt my throat burn for the second time today.
How long had it been since someone had hugged me like this, as if all that mattered was giving me comfort and letting me know I wasn’t alone?
I honestly couldn’t remember the last time.
She didn’t rush me, so it was several moments before we pulled back and stared at each other. No awkwardness, no regret.
“Your turn,” I murmured.
She drew a deep breath, eyes revealing some nerves, and then the words rushed out of her. “I sort of, secretly, maybe, a little bit want to have that ‘just dinner’ with you.”
I’d been expecting…well, I don’t know what. Not this. But my heart took a good running leap against my ribcage in excitement because that would be solely about just us, nothing to do with a favor. “I’d love to secretly, maybe, a little bit take you to that just dinner.”
The nerves vanished and her eyes sparkled. “Okay then.”
“When?” I asked, halfway expecting her to name a date far down the road.
“Tonight?”
I had no idea what was on my schedule. I didn’t give a shit. I’d cancel God Himself if I had to. “Where would you like to go?”
“Can I surprise you?” she asked.
“You’ve been surprising me since day one—no need to change that now.”
She laughed, the sound music to my ears. “Remember,” she said. “It’s just dinner.”
“Just dinner.” Possibly, most likely, yet another lie…