Chapter 52
Fort Fire, Minus the Flames
Tessa
I didn't say anything, not at first. But the sting was real, and it had nothing to do with the burn on my thumb. Perversely, we were still holding hands, which for some stupid reason, made everything worse.
Carefully, without yanking like a child, I freed my hand from his and turned to face him full-on. "I should what?"
And of course, he looked entirely unapologetic. "What, you want me to say it again?"
My jaw tightened, but I kept my voice calm. "Actually, I wish you hadn't said it the first time." But then I remembered. "Wait…you've said it twice already."
He shrugged. "So say the word, and we'll make it a third."
I fixed him with a look. "You do know you're not the boss of me, right?"
"Sure," he said, annoyingly unconcerned. "And your boss isn't even the boss of you, so your point is…?"
I wasn't even sure why I was offended. The job did suck. And just this morning, I'd pondered quitting on my own. But I didn't need him to tell me. "Well, maybe I'm the boss of myself."
He moved closer. "Except you're not. The guy runs you ragged while he sleeps in the back."
"I know, but that's not the point."
His gaze locked on mine. "Alright. So tell me. Why stick around?"
He probably meant the job, but I was in no mood to take it that way. "Good question." And with that, I turned and stalked out of the historic bedroom and into the hall.
When I heard Ryder's footsteps behind me, I kept on going, heading for the stairway. Moving fast, I walked down the stairs, dodging a noisy group of tourists, heading up.
When I reached the main level, I bypassed another group and made for the front door. All this time, I could hear Ryder following – his footsteps steady as he said nothing to stop me.
This part, I actually appreciated, because the last thing I wanted was to argue in public. In truth, I didn't want to argue at all, not when our morning had been so perfect up until now.
By the time my feet hit the lawn, I felt nearly desperate to escape, not just the argument, but my own churning thoughts.
Outside, the air was crisp and clean, but I didn't stop to appreciate it. Instead, I started walking toward the fort's nearest exit, telling myself it wasn't only irritation propelling me forward.
I really did need to get back to work.
When Ryder fell in beside me, I didn't even look his way. Instead, I picked up the pace. And of course, he did, too. When I sped up again, he did the same until soon, we were striding toward the exit like the whole fort was going up in flames.
Without looking at him, I said, "You don't have to follow me."
"Who's following?" he said. "I'm going faster."
"You are not. We're going the exact same speed."
"Yeah, but I can speed up. Can you?"
"Definitely."
A smile crept into his voice. "Without running?"
I saw nothing to smile about. "Don't tempt me."
And yet, I knew I would lose. He was nearly a foot taller with a physique that spoke of regular workouts and zero dessert. Then again, he did seem to like fudge. Did he like cookies, too?
This morning, I'd wanted to give him some in a cute little bag. But I'd resisted, telling myself I'd look a little desperate, going super domestic after three little kisses.
Okay, three terrific kisses – and none of them had been small.
But that was totally beside the point.
We were still walking fast when he said, "I'm not gonna take it back, you know."
Abruptly, I stopped – and not only because I was getting a little winded. By now, we'd nearly reached the exit, and my thoughts were so jumbled, I could hardly think. I wanted to say something, but I had no idea what.
In the end, it was Ryder who spoke first. "It's not you," he said. "It's that place."
I crossed my arms and summoned up the sarcasm this deserved. "Oh, really?"
"Yup." He gave me a penetrating look. "Tell me this. How many coffee shops have just one employee?"
"That's not the point."
"Sure it is. But it's not all of it." He held up a hand, palm out. "Just hear me out, okay?"
I gave a reluctant nod.
He leaned closer. "You're smart. We both know this. But what you're doing with that job – it's the opposite, and we both know that, too."
On the surface, he was right. But underneath? Things were a lot more complicated. "Or maybe you just think you know it."
"Nope. The facts are the facts."
I gave him a thin smile. "And what facts are those?"
"You say you're the worst barista, but how was your training?"
I shrugged. "It was okay…I guess."
"Meaning you had none. Am I right?"
"A little," I admitted.
"And you're understaffed by a few hundred percent." He reached for my hand, the one with the burnt thumb. Slowly, he pulled it to his lips and kissed the scalded spot with all the gentleness of a butterfly.
For some reason, it made me want to cry. But that would be silly, so I blinked away the mistiness and tried to think of something to say that wouldn't make me sound pathetic.
When nothing came to mind, I gave him a long, silent look as he kept his lips glued to the spot as if daring me to pull away.
I didn't, because I couldn't.
I didn't even want to.
When he lifted his head and released my hand, I lowered it slowly, savoring the lingering warmth of his lips on a patch of skin that had felt tight and cold in spite of the burn.
Finally, I said, "But it's not like I have a backup plan."
He searched my face. "Meaning?"
"Well, let's say I quit. What do I do then?" I wasn't thinking only of money. "And don't say be your tour guide, because we both know that's a totally made-up job."
He didn't even deny it. "So what? Jobs are made up all the time." He gave me a winning smile. "Tell ya what. I'll pay you double what you're making at the coffee shop."
Now that was funny. But when I started to laugh, it sounded just a little unhinged, so I cut it short.
Ryder gave me a funny look. "You wanna share the joke?"
I didn't actually. "I can't. You'll think I'm an idiot."
"And what if I promise I won't?"
"Oh, please. Like you could stop what you think."
"You'd be surprised," he said. "So c'mon. Hit me. What's so funny about double the pay?"
As we stood there with tourists milling past, I considered everything I'd told him already – about Evan Carver, about my sister, and even about how badly I'd handled everything in Chicago. If Ryder didn't think I was an idiot by now, maybe there was some hope after all.
With a sigh, I just laid it out there. "Actually, I'm not getting paid at all."
He stared for a long, intense beat before saying, "You're right."
"What do you mean?"
He gave a slow shake of his head. "Sometimes you can't help what you think."
I almost groaned. "So you do think I'm an idiot."
"When it comes to that?" He grinned. "Yup."
"Terrific."
"What, you want me to lie?"
I made a sound of frustration. "Honestly? I don't even know."
His voice softened. "Tessa…"
"What?"
"Be honest. When it comes to that barista job, what do you think?"
"Okay, fine," I said. "Maybe it's a little idiotic. But I do get tips. And that's not why I haven't quit. I do have another reason."
"Which is…?"
"Alright, you want my reason?" I lowered my voice. "It's my sister."
"Delaney."
"Right. She loves coffee, so I figure if she shows up on the island, that'll be the first place she'll go." But then I paused as my brain caught up with what he'd just said. "Wait a minute…how do you know her name?"
He didn't even blink. "Because I checked, that's why."
"But why would you?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
Silently, I shook my head.
He reached out and took my hand in his. "I asked someone to help find her."
"Who?"
"A friend."
I was momentarily speechless. "Seriously?"
"What, you thought I wouldn't?"
The logical part of me was tempted to point out that three kisses didn't make us a couple – even if I was dying for kiss number four. But in the end, I made a different confession. "Honestly, I didn't think that far ahead."
Ryder gave my hand a comforting squeeze. "Maybe I'm thinking ahead for both of us."
"But why?" I hesitated. "It's not like you and I are, well…together…or anything."
He grinned. "Eh, give it time."
I had no idea what to say to that. But my stomach said plenty, doing a crazy flip before the butterflies had even begun to settle. And now, I couldn't stop myself from grinning in return. "You really are impossible. You know that?"
"Yup." He moved closer and leaned his forehead against mine. Softly, he said, "But you love it."
He was right. I did. And even worse than that, that little four-letter word – love – was creeping into my thoughts at a crazy speed considering our short acquaintance.
But I couldn't love him.
I barely knew him.
Right?