Chapter 35 Ryder
RYDER
By the time Evie and I head home from the party, she’s schmoozed four couples into booking the barn, three of which have first dibs on the spring schedule, and one of which—Sana and Rohan—will be following us home to stay next weekend.
And she’s thrilled that she’s convinced the owners of Travelers Weekly to come stay in Sunflower Hill.
There were no deals agreed upon, but I know how Evie works, and when it comes to the sunflower farm, she schemes with the best of them.
Assuming all goes well, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see her little sunflower farm gracing the pages of their magazine.
We wander home late at night, my jacket around her shoulders and my hands stuffed into my pockets to keep warm.
She spins, taking a few steps backward as she grins at me. “I like New York.”
“I can tell.”
She’s quiet for a few paces before she turns around and falls into step with me again. “I don’t want you to sell your apartment.”
“No?” I ask, my heart dropping at the realization that just because I’m ready to go all in on Evie doesn’t mean that she’s ready to go all in with me.
And I might have shown my cards too soon.
“I mean, I know we’re still feeling things out and everything, but I like this.” I watch her face in the glow of the streetlights, cars flying by on the street beside us. “I guess there’s just some fantasy in my mind of, like, summering in Sunflower Hill and wintering in New York,” she jokes.
And maybe I didn’t show my cards too soon.
Because while I was the one who initially brought up the idea of selling my apartment, she’s the one running with the fantasy.
She’s the one imagining what life might be like for us.
Not just talking about a real estate deal, but really thinking about what might make her happy long term.
And it sounds like I might be part of it.
“That sounds nice,” I say.
But before we can dive deeper into that idea, her eyes light up. “Oh, we should get pizza!”
She barely glances at the road before darting across to the pizza shop on the other side, and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest when she takes off.
But Evie, as always, is aware of her surroundings.
I follow her over, shaking my head as I grab her hand. “Don’t dart off like that. I was so sure you were about to get hit by a car.”
“There were no cars coming!” she says, squeezing my hand even as she turns to talk to the man through the window and orders us a plain pizza to go. “If you haven’t jaywalked at midnight and nearly caused someone to have a heart attack, can you really call yourself a Manhattanite?”
I hand over my card to pay for the pizza. “Well, excuse me for being concerned about the farm girl crossing a busy city street.”
She gestures around us. “A busy city street?”
I slip my wallet back into my pocket as the man passes the pizza out through the window and Evie thanks him.
“Well, excuse me for being concerned that someone I”—I catch myself before I let it slip that I love her—“care about might get hit by a car.”
She holds the pizza out of the way so she can kiss my cheek. “Thank you for caring about me that much.”
I throw an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple in return and redirecting us toward my apartment.
When we get inside, she sheds my jacket and leaves it on one of the kitchen bar stools, throwing the pizza box onto the island and boosting herself up to sit next to it. She crosses her legs, the slit in her dress revealing the tiniest bit of her muscular thigh.
It’s enough to have me salivating.
She holds her slice out to give me a bite and I lean against her, anxious for any contact I can get. I keep my hands on her hips and her thighs, and every time she turns that pizza toward me, I take another bite like it might preserve this moment just a little longer.
The words are on the tip of my tongue. I love you, Evie Harper. Despite the short amount of time we’ve known each other and the project that looms over us, unresolved. I love your smile and your blue dress. I don’t care whether we’re here or in Sunflower Hill. Who we’re with or what we’re doing.
She swallows, licking her lips as she shuts the pizza box. She eyes me, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
I blink, shaking my head. “Sorry.” I run my hand along her thigh, so floored that I’m allowed to just touch someone like her. “You’re really hot.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Something tells me that’s not really what was on your mind.”
I dare myself to say it. To spit it out. If she rejects me, so what? At least I’ll have spoken my truth.
“I like you, Evie,” I say, and even as the wrong words come out, I urge myself forward. Just say it.
“I like you too,” she says, slipping off the counter and pressing a kiss to my cheek. She runs her thumb along my jaw, staring right up into my eyes, and this is the time, Ryder. Spit it out!
“You look good in your little work suits,” she says, her eyes dipping momentarily. I see the playfulness in her eyes and want to match her, but more than that, I just want to solidify this thing we have. To stop obsessing and wondering what she’s thinking and just have her.
“You look like my favorite shade of midnight.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Well, okay. Show up my compliment, why don’t you?”
“You do. You are. This dress. You in it, you out of it. The middle of the night when I wake up and you stir and you just kind of curl into me. After the sun sets and you power down like a robot with your book and eventually I have to come in and switch the light on for you and you crinkle your nose because your eyes were adjusted to the darkness but there’s no way that was comfortable.
When you were sick and I could tell you were struggling but didn’t want to wake me and as soon as I fed you medicine you just kind of crumpled back into bed and let me hold you.
This midnight, eating pizza in your fancy dress after you schmoozed every corporate guy I’ve ever met into donating to the sunflower preserve. ”
She stares at me, her eyes wide and beautiful.
“Ryder,” she says, her voice soft.
Say it, you pansy.
I test out the words in my head. Imagine how they’d feel on my tongue. But as soon as I try to imagine her expression, hearing them for the first time, I see her face falling in my mind. Her gentle reminder that we haven’t known each other all that long.
Before I can force the words out, she kisses me, one hand on my chest. My hand falls to her hip, tugging her in close because if I can’t get the goddamn words out, I can at least hug her. Squeeze her. Pretend like holding her physically close is good enough.
When I wake up with her head on my shoulder the next day, it pains me to drag myself out of bed and into work.
She never made it back into her clothes, and having to tuck the sheets in around her while she eyes me sleepily is a sort of torture I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
When I’m dressed and come in to give her a quick kiss before I leave, she sits up, holding the sheets haphazardly over her naked body as we say goodbye.
I briefly consider extending our trip so I can skip my meetings this morning.
But more than anything, I want to be back in Sunflower Hill, puttering around on the farm with her and tossing around idea after idea for the property next door that will inevitably be turned down by either her or Reed.
And maybe that’s exactly the sort of limbo I want.
As long as no plan gets approved, this glorious thing that Eve and I started never has to end.
I’ll be close enough that I can take my grandmother to the park—even though it pisses me off that she can’t just get there whenever she wants—and I can spend the rest of my time with Evie.
When I get into the office, Sana is waiting for me, a fresh cup of coffee on my desk.
“Good morning, Sana.”
She gives me a quick grin. “From now on I’m only answering to Chief Operating Officer Sana Basu.”
I snort. “Good morning, Chief Operating Officer Sana Basu.”
“Good morning.” She drops a manilla folder on my desk. “The information you asked for.”
That I had almost completely forgotten about. “Reed?”
“And his shill company.”
I blink, opening the folder. “His what?”
She takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t know anything for sure, but once I gathered everything I could find on Reed, his family, and his work as mayor, there does seem to be some sort of picture there.
I talked to a woman named Margie, who didn’t want to give me anything until I mentioned I was asking on behalf of Eve Harper—so you’re going to want to let her know I used her name—but she begrudgingly let me know that it’s not that Reed usually approves historic restoration from one company.
It’s that he only approves historic restoration from one company. ”
“So the guy’s in his pocket?”
She shrugs. “You could say that. I couldn’t find anything that connects the two of them.
But I did find a lumber company started by his ex-wife’s brother.
I don’t know for sure, but if I had to guess, I’d say Reed is a lot more involved in that company than anyone knows, and the materials being used for all those historic renovations are coming straight from him. ”
I lean back in my chair. “So Reed is bullying townspeople into getting their property designated historical, refusing funding to help them, and then only approving one guy who happens to source his materials from Reed, sending that money directly into his pocket.”
Sana nods noncommittally. “Again, I have no solid proof. I called the restoration company and they wouldn’t tell me where they source from despite coming up with a pretty intricate backstory about inheriting my childhood home and wanting to fully restore it to its original glory.
Like, if some rando called me up with the story I spit out, I would have taken that job without question and I don’t know the first thing about restoration. ”
“Well, we already knew he was a bit of an asshole so that’s not new information.”
She cocks her head to the side. “You’re welcome for the incredible amount of time and work I put into getting these answers for you.”
“Thank you, Sana. Seriously. This is so helpful.”
She sighs. “It was fun, honestly. I felt like a detective. Lost a lot of time looking into his daughter though. Charlotte Reed is a bit of a wild child.”
I snort, remembering the last few times I saw Aiden before we drifted apart.
The excitement in his eyes when he told me he found his girl.
The One. The disappointment when he realized she was using him to make another guy jealous.
Her subsequent apology and their reconciliation, and then months later finding out she was using him to piss her dad off.
Charlotte Reed might be a fun girl, but she’s not a nice one.
And Aiden, as far as I can tell, hasn’t been the same since.
“I don’t know if I’d call her fun,” I say.
Sana shrugs. “Fun to watch?”
“As long as you don’t get too close.”
Sana raises an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued.”
I flip through the folder she gave me. “Anything else?”
“Not really. Lots of uninteresting stuff in there. Wild daughter, contentious relationship with ex-wife—I guess the brother took Reed’s side—no other family to speak of. He owns a couple properties in town, which you probably knew.”
I close the folder, taking a sip of my coffee. “I didn’t, but it doesn’t surprise me. I knew he owned his house.”
She nods. “Couple other residential properties, hidden by LLCs, two of which have liens against them. My guess is they were inherited at some point since there’s so little information there.”
“Addresses?”
She stands, smoothing down her skirt. “In the folder. Looked like a whole lot of nothing when I googled them though. But to be fair, I didn’t spend too much time on them once I figured out his little restoration business scheme.”
I nod. “Thanks, Sana. You really are a jack of all trades.”
She gives me a big grin as she heads for the door. “And that’s why they call me Chief Operating Officer Sana Basu.”