Chapter 41
Tackling Optional
Tessa
"So?" Ryder said. "This question of yours…are you gonna ask it?" He said it with a smile, but it still packed a wallop as we walked along the moonlit street.
Around us, everything was still and quiet except for the sounds of our footsteps and the beating of my heart. And even though I should've felt toasty warm in the thick black hoodie that he'd pulled from his hotel closet, a tiny shiver skittered down my spine.
My question – why, exactly, Ryder was here – was something I should've asked from the get-go. But then, like an idiot, I'd gone and kissed him, which made it harder to ask than it should.
I confessed, "I should've asked you in the coffee shop."
Technically, I could've asked him just now in his hotel suite, except we hadn't stayed more than thirty seconds – just enough time for him to grab the hoodie for me and a light windbreaker for himself.
He hadn't even zipped it, which naturally made me wonder if he was wearing it to make me happy instead of himself. But that was ridiculous, right?
Walking beside me, he asked, "You mean today in the coffee shop?"
I shook my head. "No. On that first day – when you came in with the duffel dude."
"Griff."
"Right. Except I had no idea who he was." I paused. "I still don't, actually."
"Yeah? Well, the way I hear it, he's a hit man." Ryder shot me an amused look. "So you'd better be careful."
"Hah! If I were careful, I wouldn't have kissed you."
He smiled. "So you admit you kissed me?"
"What? No. Definitely not. I'm pretty sure you kissed me first."
"Are you?"
My shoulders sagged. "No. Not really."
"Tell ya what," he said. "Let's call it mutual. Deal?"
"I guess so."
He laughed. "Why so glum?"
"Because…well, I'm not sure I actually believe it."
"Believe it," he said. "You want the truth?"
I nodded without meeting his eyes.
Softly, he said, "You're lucky I didn't tackle you in the street."
At the image that flashed in my brain, I didn't know whether to laugh or fan myself, because honestly? The thought of being tackled by Ryder wasn't so bad.
Okay, it was terrific, actually.
I replied, "And you're lucky ZZ didn't tackle us both."
Ryder only laughed. "What, you think I couldn't handle him?"
I paused to give it some thought. "Actually, I don't know. I mean…you seem a lot more civilized than he is."
"Trust me," Ryder said with no trace of humor. "You'd be surprised what I could handle." A hard edge crept into his voice. "And that guy? He'd never get to you."
My breath caught, not only at his words, but the way he said it, like he'd kill the guy if he tried to hurt me. But the idea was so laughable, I tried to pass it off as a joke. "So you're not as civilized as you look, huh?"
And just like that, his easy demeanor returned. "Forget me," he said. "You're the one who was giving him hell."
I made a sound – half protest, half laugh. "I was not! He totally started it."
"No, you started it by standing in the road." He gave me a hip bump as we walked. "Twice, the way I hear it."
I almost snorted. "This again?"
"Yup. And you realize what you're doing, don't you?"
"What?"
"Stalling."
He was right. I was stalling, mostly because this moment felt nearly perfect, and I hated the thought of ruining it when things were complicated enough.
It was weird in a way. My whole life, I'd been a hard-charging, get-things-done kind of gal. But not lately.
Lately, I was just drifting, like now, taking the time to savor this moment rather than crossing something off a list.
Maybe it was the island. Or maybe it was the fact that something – and yes, I was referring to that giant cluster in Chicago – had finally forced me to slow down, take a breather, and figure out who I was.
But whatever the reason, I was no longer the same person I'd been only a month ago.
Or who knows? Maybe that old Tessa had never been me at all, but rather the embodiment of parental expectations along with every ridiculous bar I'd been trained to clear.
Even so, I couldn't stall forever, not even here under the light of a glorious moon with over six feet of trouble walking by my side.
I looked to Ryder and confessed, "I knew who you were."
He laughed. "I sure as hell hope so."
I shook my head. "Sorry, what?"
His tone grew teasing. "I'd hate to think you were kissing a stranger."
I swear, he was impossible. "You are joking, right?"
He tossed me a devilish grin. "I still made you smile."
Damn it. He was right. I was smiling. Ryder had a way of doing that, making me smile when I didn't even realize it.
I was still mulling that over when he said, "And besides, you already told me that."
I did? Oh, that's right. I'd told him right before we'd kissed. But in my own defense, Ryder was so distracting, I was finding it hard to keep everything straight.
Embarrassed now, I said, "Right. But that's only part of it. I mean, yeah…I knew who you were. But that wasn't the problem."
"So, what was the problem?"
"Alright. If you want the truth…I was kind of nervous that you knew who I was, too."
"But why would you be nervous?" he asked. "Don't tell me it's because of that mini-bar thing."
Damn it. Technically, that table of booze wasn't a mini bar, but I groaned, anyway. "Oh, my God. You heard about that?" Yes, I had suspected this from the start, but that was before I kissed him. Now, everything seemed different, and I couldn't even say why.
I mean, a kiss or two was nothing in the big scheme of things, right?
Keeping a steady pace, Ryder chuckled. "All of Chicago heard about that. You wanna tell me what happened?"
Relief shot through me. "So you haven't seen it?"
"Nope."
That nope was music to my ears. Footage of my viral meltdown had been making the rounds until it abruptly disappeared – no doubt thanks to the work of my employer.
One thing about Thatcher-Hale, they knew exactly how to get things pulled. But not quite soon enough. By now, probably half of Chicago had already seen it.
To Ryder, I said, "Trust me, you're not missing anything."
This made him laugh. "Oh, come on. I know better."
"How could you? You just said you didn't see it."
"Yeah, but I heard plenty."
"Then you don't need to see it, do you?" I waved it away. "But never mind that. What I really wanted to ask you was this." I blew out a long shaky breath before blurting it out in a rush. "You're not here for Evan Carver, are you?"
Abruptly, Ryder stopped walking. So of course, so did I. He turned to face me and asked, "What do you mean?"
He wasn't smiling.
And now, neither was I. My stomach twisted as I said, "Like…did he send you here?"
At this, something new flickered in his eyes. Whatever it was, it wasn't warm and cheery. Sounding incredulous, he asked, "That's what you think? That I'm here because some dipshit sent me?"
A bark of nervous laughter spilled out before I could stop it. It felt oddly good to have Evan mocked with such a silly name, something far too insignificant to be scary.
After all, nobody ever said, That dipshit terrifies me.
With a weak smile, I said, "I've never heard him called that before."
"Yeah, well, stick around, and you'll be hearing worse."
It was comforting, and yet I refused to let it go. "But you do know him, right?"
Ryder scoffed. "Everyone knows him. And he makes damn sure of it, too." But then, his gaze hardened. "Wait a minute…is that why you were so jumpy?"
"A little."
He waited.
"Fine," I said. "A lot, okay?"
He looked genuinely perplexed. "But why? I'm not even friends with the guy."
"Yeah, but I didn't know that." As I said it, a little voice whispered in my ear that I still didn't know it, not for sure. All I had was Ryder's word. And kissing or not, I still didn't know him terribly well.
With a frown, he said, "Well, know it now. The guy's a douche."
I liked dipshit better. It made Evan sound small and insignificant. Douche was okay, I guess, but it didn't shrink him down nearly enough to chase away my worries.
And now, standing on the moonlit street, I felt desperate to explain. "But look at it from my point of view. I'm here on the island minding my own business, and then you show up – and from Chicago, too."
"Forget me and Chicago," he said. "Evan Carver – what'd he do?"
"Aside from ruining my career?"
Ryder's gaze didn't waver. "Yeah. Aside from that."
My stomach sank. "So you think my career is ruined, too?"
"Fuck your career."
My jaw dropped. "What?"
"That's fixable."
"Oh, please. That's easy for you to say. You work for yourself."
"Yeah, and you could, too."
"Not without clients, I couldn't."
"Forget the clients," he said. "I want to hear why you're scared."
"I never said I'm scared." I looked away. "I'm just nervous, that's all."
"Bullshit."
My gaze snapped back to his. "You're awful cursy all of a sudden."
"And you're awful evasive."
"Yeah, but you're not listening."
"The hell I'm not." He gave me a no-nonsense look. "So answer the question. Why are you afraid?"
I let out a resigned sigh. "Okay…if you want the truth, he threatened me just a little."
At this, Ryder grew very still. "Do you mean your job or…?"
"Not just my job," I admitted.
"So he threatened you?"
"Not just me either."
Ryder gave me a look and waited.
"Fine." I swallowed hard. "He threatened me and my sister."