Chapter Four
“Hi.” Wyatt shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other and tried not to feel like he’d fucked up already by knocking on the front door instead of doing something silly like going to the back of the house.
But mostly he tried the hardest not to stare, because he had definitely not anticipated Ryan opening the door only wearing a pair of low-slung athletic shorts and a thin sheen of sweat on his bare, muscled torso.
“Hi back,” Ryan said, smiling so brightly it dismissed all of Wyatt’s concerns. “Is that all you came with?” he asked, glancing at the duffel bag at Wyatt’s feet.
“I have a few more boxes that are shipping down here next week,” Wyatt admitted. “Other than that, yeah. I like to travel light.”
“Live light too,” Ryan said, and there was definitely an approving light in his dark eyes. “So do I. Come see the house.”
Wyatt wasn’t sure if he and Ryan had different definitions of “living light,” because Ryan definitely had more than a duffel bag and a handful of boxes to his name.
The house wasn’t as big as it looked from the street and the gate that protected the driveway from the main road.
But everything was clean and simple—lots of modern lines tempered by a worn-in homey quality that Wyatt appreciated.
“Living room,” Ryan said, as Wyatt trailed behind him, trying really hard not to admire the firm roundness of his ass in those clingy shorts.
“Dining room, you probably sort of care about that,” he said absently.
“And here’s the one room you definitely care about.
” Ryan made some cute flourish with his hands and they stepped into the kitchen.
It wasn’t a huge space but it had been well-designed, with a big island for prep, and good, professional-grade appliances.
But if he was being honest, if there was one thing that could distract him from high quality appliances, it was a cute boy leaning against them.
“Is there a pantry?” Wyatt asked, when he realized he’d been staring—and not even at the kitchen.
He felt the exact same magnetic pull to Ryan that he had that night.
He hadn’t really expected it to diminish but he also hadn’t expected it to be blazing stronger than ever.
Especially when they still hadn’t addressed any of the growing baggage between them.
Attraction didn’t magically make any of that shit disappear, but it sure made it easier to ignore.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Ryan said. He walked past Wyatt, and Wyatt got one whiff of him.
No cologne, but something earthy, like sunshine and dirt and grass.
Wyatt wanted to know what his sweat tasted like on his tongue, what it felt like against his palms. But he kept his hands and his tongue to himself.
Whatever was going to happen with them, there was no point in rushing in before they’d even talked about it.
There was a big pantry, with lots of empty shelves that Wyatt would enjoy filling. “This looks really great, actually.”
Ryan shot him a lopsided, very charming smile.
He probably even knew how charming it was, and it still didn’t diminish the sheer wattage of it.
“Are you just saying that? You can be honest with me, you know. Like I said last night, I promise no thrown dishes or hissy fits when my meat isn’t precisely the right temperature. ”
Wyatt leaned back against the counter and shoved his hands in his pockets. Better to keep them where they needed to be, and not against Ryan’s damp skin. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Ryan flushed, and looked ashamed. That had been Wyatt’s original intention—to remind him that out of the two of them, Ryan had been the only one who’d lied. Despite that, Wyatt couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that he’d brought it up first.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you,” Ryan said. “About the interview, that is. I kept meaning to that night, and then I thought if I did, you’d really just take me home. Would you have?”
Wyatt was pretty sure Ryan already knew the answer to that question. So he deliberately skirted around it. “I don’t want to be a joke or a toy to play with. Especially now that you’re my boss.”
“It’s not like that, I promise.” Ryan sounded and looked very earnest. Trustworthy, even. But Wyatt still wasn’t sure that wasn’t his attraction to him annoyingly surfacing and interfering again.
“Look,” Ryan continued, “it’ll stay separate. The professional stuff, the you’re my boss stuff, and the personal stuff. And for the record, I don’t really consider myself your boss.”
“You pay my salary?” Wyatt pointed out, a little incredulously.
“Well,” Ryan smiled, “technically that’s Eric. And yeah, he’s my agent, but it gives some separation, right?”
Wyatt wasn’t sure he entirely agreed, but the attraction was still flaring up, brightly and almost painfully.
He’d come here, hadn’t he? He’d given up his job at Terroir, and packed his bags, and drove here, intending to work for Ryan Flores.
And, if he was being really honest with himself, a good part of that was because he’d wanted more.
More money and more time with Ryan. Was it so wrong that he might get both in the same position?
“Okay,” Wyatt said, hoping that he wouldn’t regret his agreement later. Hoping that even if he did regret it, that there would be some spectacular memories to make it worth it in the end.
“I guess that means I should show you the ADU,” Ryan said.
“ADU?” Wyatt asked as he followed Ryan out of the kitchen, through the back door, and out to the lawn. There was a cute little cottage set a ways back from the main house, surrounded by flowering bushes and a palm tree.
“Attached dwelling unit,” Ryan said, opening the door and leading Wyatt inside. “Eric said I should have it built when I remodeled the house, in case I wanted someone to stay with me but wanted to make sure we each had our privacy.”
Wyatt was briefly tempted to tell Ryan that he wasn’t sure he needed the privacy. He’d much rather be right in Ryan’s pocket. He’d never considered his first instinct reckless before, but he knew he was acting reckless now.
“Eric seems like a good agent, that way,” Wyatt said instead. Even though he’d done a very good impression of a human being encasing a blood-thirsty piranha the only time they’d ever met.
“Oh, he’s an asshole,” Ryan chuckled. “But he’s my asshole. So it works out. Anyway, this is all yours. No kitchen, other than this little sink, mini fridge and microwave, but feel free to come use the one in the house at any time. I really mean that.”
There was a tiny living room with a flat screen TV and a comfy-looking couch. A separate bedroom with a queen bed and dresser—even a miniature walk-in closet. A bathroom, with a clever closet enclosing a small washer and dryer unit, finished out the cottage.
It was everything Wyatt needed, barring the kitchen, which was just a few steps away.
What he wanted was standing in the kitchenette, examining the contents of the mini fridge.
“I told Gabriela to stock this,” Ryan said, pointing out the empty shelves. “I’ll have to talk to her.”
“I can stock it, it’s not a big deal.” Wyatt was already a little embarrassed at the ridiculous salary that Ryan was paying him, never mind that he was dying to get into his pants again. He didn’t need Ryan to pay for his groceries.
“Gabriela does the housekeeping, and runs the odd errand but she doesn’t live here,” Ryan said. “I don’t really have a personal assistant. If I need help, Eric will usually loan me his. Nicole is intimidatingly efficient so I try to avoid it if I can.”
“So it’s just . . . me and you.” Wyatt tried not to make that sound like an invitation, but he was acutely aware of Ryan’s bare chest and the big fluffy bed in the next room.
It was impossible not to think of what they could do in it.
After all, it had been so good when it was just Wyatt’s bike and a swath of gravel.
The bed opened up endless possibilities that had Wyatt’s head swimming and his cock half-erect in his jeans.
“Yep.” Ryan smiled brightly. He seemed just as happy about this turn of events as Wyatt.
Wyatt wanted to reach over and pull Ryan against him, their first kiss and its incendiary intensity in sharp, perfect detail in his mind. The second, he knew, would be even better. The third might outdo every kiss he’d ever experienced before.
It was one of the reasons why he hadn’t kissed Ryan yet. He didn’t want this to be a casual, hookup sort of thing. He wanted to show Ryan that he wanted more. More than just a quick afternoon in bed together. Or a quick ride up in the Hills followed by a convenient blowjob.
And everything tempered by the sobering realization that Ryan was his boss. He’d never wanted to blow his boss before.
“We should talk about expectations,” Wyatt said, dropping his duffel on the floor and digging out a worn pad from the side. He’d written a list of questions he’d needed to ask last night, after ducking out on his own farewell party.
“Expectations? You feed me when I want food. That’s about it,” Ryan said, and even though Wyatt didn’t like the tiny crease forming Ryan’s brows, he forged on.
This was stuff he needed to know to do his job. And for what Ryan was paying him, he couldn’t shirk his responsibilities or his duties, all because he was desperate to get into his boss’ pants.
“Expectations sounds more formal than I was intending,” Wyatt confessed. “I just have a long list of questions, basically.”
“Questions?” Ryan frowned. “We’ll deal with that tomorrow. Tonight’s your first night in LA. It’s nice out; let’s go for a drive. And this time we’ll take my bike.”