Chapter 60 No Time for Landscaping
No Time for Landscaping
Ryder
Seeing her upright should've been enough to slow my pulse.
It wasn't.
Upright didn't mean okay. And the way she kept minimizing it made me want to shake some sense into her – gently, preferably someplace warm and dry.
Regardless, there was no way in hell I'd let her sink to the dirt and start fixing flowers.
If it came down to it, I'd do it myself, but not while she was cold, soaked, and pretending she was fine.
She stared at me with rain dripping down her face. "So you are mad? But why?"
I barked out a laugh. "Because you went down in the middle of a storm and you're trying to fix everything but yourself."
"Yeah, well…maybe I don't need fixing." Her chin lifted. "And so what if I want to make things right? Maybe it's responsible."
Just then, a crack of thunder sounded overhead, and the rain started hitting harder, as if that were even possible. And right there in the middle of it, stood Tessa, streaked with mud and dripping wet.
I gave her a look. "See? Even the weather thinks you're crazy."
"Yeah? Well maybe you're the crazy one."
I didn't bother denying it. "Got that right."
She blinked. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," I repeated. "Because I should be dragging you out of the storm." I held her gaze, daring her to argue. "I swear to God, if you don't come inside right now, I'm gonna ditch the bike and stomp on the flowers."
Finally, her lips twitched with a smile. "You wouldn't."
"Wanna bet?"
"You're bluffing."
I leaned in, lowering my voice. "Try me."
She didn't. Another gust of wind hit her full-on, and that seemed to do the trick. Mumbling something about going back to fix the flowers later, she hurried beside me as I rolled the bike back to the hotel.
As we burst through the main door, both of us were soaked to the skin, earning us a curious look from the desk clerk as we made a beeline for the elevator.
Moving fast, I pushed the button, not to go up, but to go down so I could store the bike in the hotel basement with the others, including one of my own I'd purchased to get around.
If I'd had my way, I would've lugged Tessa's bike up to the suite, but I knew Tessa well enough to know she'd balk at rolling a muddy bike over the hotel carpet.
In the basement, Tessa crouched beside Maisie's bike, giving it a long, careful inspection. She looked up to ask, "This isn't a scratch, is it?"
Screw the bike. I kept my eyes trained on her. "Nope."
"But you didn't even look," she protested.
"I know, because I don't care."
When she sputtered another protest, I told her, "Don't worry. If it's broke, I'll fix it. But right now, I'm more worried about you."
I wasn't joking. She looked wrecked – muddy, dripping wet, pale, and shivering. And yet, somehow, she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
God, I'd missed her.
It had taken everything I had to stay away – or more accurately, to pretend to stay away, as I kept an eye out for trouble while working remotely from my suite.
The last time we'd talked, she had made it pretty clear that she needed some space. And me?
I was no Evan Carver – or a friend of his either.
But did Tessa know that? Within hours, I had my answer.
And let's just say, it wasn't the one I wanted.