Chapter Nine

Ryker

Ryker was mesmerized by Wes’s TV

interview.

Much as he loathed this type of thing, he

had to admit that Wes was very good at the public relations stuff.

He had charisma to spare.

When the topic of the book collaboration

came up, he could see the momentary flicker of unease on Wes’s

face. How the hell did she get that information? Wes’s jaw

clenched before he resumed that practiced smile and turned the

tables on the interviewer. And then there was that comment about

Mac.

If that had been me, I would’ve told her to

fuck off and walked right off the set.

Was it possible there was something between

Wes and Mac? Wes hadn’t fully acknowledged the rumor, but he hadn’t

squelched it either. That was probably how you had to play the

media game to keep them guessing and hold their attention. But just

the thought of Wes and Mac being intimate together made Ryker’s

stomach revolt.

Pushing that thought, and the interview,

aside, Ryker went back to work. Several hours later, and after all

his revisions were complete, Ryker was standing in the kitchen,

prepping a chicken and veggie stir fry, when his phone beeped.

Mac: You got a few minutes to

chat?

Ryker: Yup.

His phone rang almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?” Ryker answered on

speakerphone while chopping zucchini and carrots, occasionally

throwing Spock a piece of food to avoid his sad but persistent

stare-down.

“I’ve reached out to Wes’s assistant to set

up a conference call for tomorrow at seven PM. I thought we’d

formalize a few things.”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun, Mac? Or maybe

you just want to talk to Wes again, since apparently you two are an

item now?” Ryker commented, only half joking.

Mac snorted. “Yeah, no. Wait, you watched

the interview today? Taking a new interest in daytime TV, Ry?”

“Research. I need to learn all I can about

Wes so I can make an informed decision. You know me. Logical and

practical. And Mac, Wes and I need to get to know each other and do

some work together before we can say yes. This is a big deal for

me. For both of us.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m so glad your

previous ‘no way’ is now ‘an informed decision.’ I’m going to chill

the champagne just in case. I’ll text you the details for tomorrow.

Call your agent! Ciao.”

Mac’s call reminded him of something else he

had to do. Ryker picked up his phone again.

“Hey, how are you? Good. Listen, I have a

favor to ask. Can you be here tomorrow morning at nine thirty? I’d

like to introduce you to someone.” He paused. “No, not in that way.

Have you ever known me to do that? This is business. I’ll call you

later with more details. Okay, thanks.”

Ryker’s gut tightened at the thought of

seeing Wes again. Was it apprehension or pleasure? Admittedly, a

little bit of both.

****

Wes

Rush hour on a Monday morning in New York

City was frenetic and entertaining. Wall-to-wall traffic and masses

of people pushing to get ahead—and that was just the line at the

bagel shop.

This was Wes’s first time at Sadie’s in

SoHo, and what a revelation. The sweet aroma of freshly baked

bread, toasted sesame seeds, and other spices wafted through the

vintage bakery. Wes waited twenty minutes for his

delicious-smelling order: six sesame seed and six poppy seed

bagels, along with a container of cream cheese and homemade

lox.

What should have been a five-minute ride

from the bagel shop to Ryker’s took almost half an hour due to

gridlock. Next time I’ll walk. If there is a next time.

Luckily, he still arrived ten minutes early. Being late was one of

Wes’s few pet peeves.

Stepping out of the car, Wes glanced up at

his destination, a stylish old building on Park Avenue with ornate

stonework and large windows that looked out over one of the world’s

most iconic places: Central Park. Wes had pictured Ryker in some

industrial loft in Brooklyn, but he couldn’t deny the appeal of

this location.

Wes gave his name to the concierge, added

his details to the security system, and was then escorted to the

elevator. Exiting on the twenty-eighth floor, he walked down a

narrow hallway lit with bronze wall sconces until he reached

Ryker’s door.

Wes knocked twice, and a barrage of barking

and footsteps could be heard behind the door. A flutter in his

stomach took flight. A combination of nerves, hunger, and some

other form of anticipation filled him, and he took a deep breath.

He smoothed down his olive-green Henley. He’d opted for a casual

look today with black jeans and boots.

When the door opened, Wes was greeted by a

smiling woman in her fifties. She was petite and very beautiful.

With long, dark hair, wide brown eyes, and a smile that was now

familiar to him, he eagerly put out his hand.

“Hola, Mr. Stewart, come in. I’m Tina

Desoumas, Ryker’s mother. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m a big

fan of your books.” She gripped Wes’s hand firmly, her hand lightly

calloused, warm, and very strong. She couldn’t have been more than

five-foot-five and was curvaceous in stylish black yoga pants and a

long, white button-down shirt. Her feet were bare, displaying dark

blue nail polish. Beside her stood a small dog with big pointy

ears, his sleek black-and-brown pelt shimmying as he wagged his

tiny tail.

“This is Spock, and he’s also very excited

to meet you, as you can tell.” She laughed as the miniature

pinscher stood on his back legs to reach up and lick Wes’s

hand.

“Chances are he’s more excited about the

food smells than seeing me,” Wes replied as he held up the large

brown bag. “And thank you, Tina, the pleasure is all mine. I hope

I’m not too early. I’ve brought breakfast,” he said as he followed

her down the hallway into Ryker’s modern apartment, reaching the

kitchen.

Tina’s eyes widened. “Ryker made you bring

food?” She turned toward the kitchen and yelled, “Ryker! Qué

hiciste? Es un invitado en tu casa!”

Wes wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but he knew a

pissed-off mother when he heard one. Ryker appeared at the end of

the kitchen counter, arranging cups and other items for coffee. A

lovely flush of color bloomed over his cheekbones, his dark hair

sliding over his shoulders in silky waves that Wes was suddenly

very eager to bury his hands in. Wes’s gaze slid down Ryker’s form,

taking in the square, black-rimmed glasses that perfectly framed

his indigo eyes, his lean body in a black t-shirt and tight faded

jeans, and all the way down to his bare feet.

When Wes’s eyes roamed up again to meet

Ryker’s, the impact was undeniable. Wes acknowledged that he’d

never been so physically aroused by anyone in his life. He had an

overwhelming urge to grab Ryker’s stunning face in both hands and

kiss him, right the fuck now, not caring that his mother was two

feet away. Wes didn’t believe in love at first sight—but lust was

pretty close.

“Mama, it was a joke. I didn’t think he

would take it seriously,” Ryker countered, looking bashful. “But

thank you, Wes.”

“No problem. You did text me their address,

so I assumed you were serious,” Wes replied with a grin. “And I

didn’t mind at all. I love discovering new shops and restaurants in

New York City, and this place will earn a repeat visit,” he said,

taking a seat on one of the black leather bar stools at the far end

of the counter.

“My son, I will admit, he is smart. So

clever. But sometimes smart ass is more like it.” Tina grabbed a

navy-blue dish towel hanging from the oven door and swatted Ryker

on said ass. Lucky towel, Wes thought.

Tina smiled and turned back to him. “Wes,

we’re having café con leche, a sweet latte, but Ryker has

one of those machines that can make fifty types of coffee and tea,

so you can have whatever pleases you.” She waved at the gleaming

coffee machine.

“I’ll have café con leche as well,

please and thanks,” Wes answered.

He watched Ryker as he bit his full lower

lip in concentration, adjusting the machine with strong, practiced

hands. Ryker’s long, fluid body moved quietly in the kitchen space.

Wes would be happy to stare at this sexy man all day, but Tina

interrupted his lustful daydream.

“So well mannered. It is very rare these

days. You were brought up right,” she said to Wes as she placed the

bagels and cream cheese on a platter. “Please help yourself,

Wes.”

“Thank you. My grandmother did her best,”

Wes said as he took a sesame bagel and spread it generously with

cream cheese. Ryker finished making the coffees and placed them on

the counter, then took a seat on the stool beside Wes, his now

familiar spicy scent wafting over. Wes sipped on his drink and

murmured his appreciation. “Mmm, creamy and sweet. Best coffee I’ve

ever had.”

He looked at Ryker as the words left his

mouth, and all he could think of was how Ryker would taste. Wes was

glad he was sitting behind the counter so no one could see the

prominent bulge in his jeans. He shifted in his seat to ease his

discomfort and caught Ryker’s smirk. So, the hot word nerd thought

his predicament was funny, eh?

Wes raised his left eyebrow, then slowly

licked cream cheese off his fingers one at a time, watching as

Ryker’s eyes locked on his mouth, his face flushing, his body

slowly shifting on his seat, mirroring Wes. Payback’s a

bitch, Wes thought as he smirked back at him and winked.

Tina’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Ryker,

then Wes. She took a seat opposite them, and then a long sip of her

café. “So, Wes, I understand that, just like my Ryker, you

date men. Is your interest in him sexual, or is this purely

business?”

Wes choked on his bagel, and Ryker spit out

a mouthful of coffee, spewing droplets all over the glossy

countertop. Tina laughed and shook her head at both of them.

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