Chapter 6
“Open the damn door, Libby!”
She seriously thought about ignoring the angry order.
“Now!” He thumped on the glass again. “I’m not leaving until you do, which means you’ll find my body frozen out here by morning.”
It was a bluff, she knew that, but she also could not discount him smashing a window or calling Bob in to get the keys.
“You’re fired if you don’t open this door, Libby.”
“I quit!”
The fist thumped again.
Libby knew she had no choice, so she unlocked the door. It opened seconds later, and she was faced with the large, angry Ryder Duke glaring down at her.
“Are you dumb or too stubborn to ask for help?”
“Go away. I can sleep in my car. There is no law against it.”
“Dumb, then. You do realize that if those two animals had found you, they wouldn’t have played nice. They could have hurt you, Libby. You’re just lucky I had a hunch where I’d find you, or even now you could be?—”
“What I do is my business, not yours,” she said, not wanting to hear more. “They didn’t know I was there.”
“They might have decided to look in the cars and steal anything of value,” he said. “You wouldn’t have stood a chance with them.”
She felt ill at the thought of what could have happened to her.
“Get out here now.”
“No,” she said.
Large hands grabbed Libby. Ryder then hauled her out, standing her upright with more force than was necessary, causing her teeth to snap together.
He lowered his head so their eyes met. “It’s freezing. You can’t sleep in your car! The dumb pretty girl look only gets you so far?—”
“Don’t you dare call me dumb again!” She punched him in the shoulder, which likely hurt her more than him. “I can do what I like.”
The head lowered further. “Aw, hell, have you been crying?”
“No.” Libby wiped her eyes. “I had a sneezing fit.”
“Sure you did.” He grabbed her arm and marched to his vehicle. Pulling open the passenger door, he picked her up and dropped her on the seat. “Stay,” he then ordered before slamming it shut.
Libby reached for the door to get out, but the cab was warm and smelled really nice, so she didn’t. Instead, she watched as he looked inside her car. She had a sudden thought he may open her trunk and reached for the door again, but he just grabbed her suitcase, opened it, and stuffed the things she’d taken out back inside. Zipping it up, he then came back to his vehicle and threw her case in the rear seat.
“Car keys?” He then opened her door and held out a hand. “Now.” The last word came out a growl.
She slapped the key into his large gloved hand. He then locked the car and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Ryder—”
“Shut up. We need to get out of here in case Grill and his idiot gang mates come back with reinforcements.”
“Don’t—”
“Shut up, please,” he snapped. He then revved the engine loud enough to let her know how pissed he was and backed out of the driveway.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere to thaw out,” he said, cranking up the heater. “At least you changed your jacket for something that may not give you hypothermia. You do realize the danger you put yourself in, right?” The muscles in his jaw were clenched.
“I would have been all right for the night. I have on lots of clothes.”
He didn’t speak again, just drove slowly back down the main street toward his cafe with his teeth clenched. Did he live above it? But he turned at the end of town and then pulled into the driveway of a bungalow. It was nice—a place that a family would grow up together. The boards were a soft gray, and the trim white. A brick path wound its way to the front door.
Libby had seen houses like this in TV shows. Places where kids played in the streets and the neighbors knew one another. Her home had been shut away behind tall gates.
“Who lives here?”
“Me,” he said.
“I’m not staying here with you.”
His eyes raked over her. “You’re safe. I don’t go for brainless girls who worry more about what they look like than real shit that keeps them safe. Now get inside.”
Those words actually made her speechless. How dared he talk to her like that when he knew nothing about her. “I’m not brainless. I’ll have you know that I have a bachelor’s degree in accounting!” she managed to get out. “Nor do I care more about my looks than my safety.” No one in her life had spoken to her like that before.
“So you’re one of those smart people with no common sense,” he said and then got out of the car. He took her suitcase from the back seat and a bag of what she presumed was takeout and where the delicious smells had come from, and then he stomped up to the front door. Opening it without unlocking it first, he stepped inside and slammed it shut behind him.
“Well, hell,” Libby whispered.
She could go in there and get her case back from the grumpy cafe owner or just walk away. But then where could she walk to? She sat there weighing her options, of which there were none.
Frustration, anger—it all warred inside her for supremacy. Her life had been so good. Everything where she’d wanted it to be. Even her father was beginning to take her seriously, and then she’d chosen to walk away. When she saw the plumes of smoke wisp through the air, she knew Ryder Duke had lit the fire. Getting out, she walked up to the door and knocked.
“It’s open!”
She’d known that but hadn’t wanted to just enter. Opening the door, she stepped inside. He was seated on the sofa facing the fire. The huge TV above was playing a game. Not just any game—it was the team her family supported.
“I want my suitcase, please,” Libby said with her eyes on the TV.
“Sure. It’s down the hall, first door on the right. But you’re not leaving this house tonight.”
She watched as he took a huge mouthful of meat loaf that looked good even though she’d eaten waffles not that long ago. Libby had always had a big appetite.
“Go shed some layers and then grab a plate and dish up some food from the containers in the kitchen,” he said like she was a friend or girlfriend and they were comfortable with each other… which they weren’t because he’d just yelled at her and called her dumb.
“Ryder—”
“Libby, I have no clue what your deal is, but you can’t sleep in your car. I know all the accommodations are booked up in town. I worked my ass off today, and I’m tired. So go to bed if you want. The bathroom is next door, and I’ll see you in the morning. If not, get food and shut up. I want to watch the game.”
He’d spoken the words while watching the TV.
She looked at the screen and froze as the camera flashed to where the sponsors all sat.
“Or stand there, because that won’t be annoying,” he said.
“Look, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. I’ll add we don’t like each other. I can’t just stay here.” Libby felt like the panic was choking her now.
“Ryder Duke. Third eldest out of five. Owner of the cafe you start work at in the morning. A few annoying habits and other shit, but for the most, a goodish guy—ask anyone.” He was still looking at the TV as he spoke. “Your turn. I mean, how do I know you won’t jump me in the middle of the night?”
She actually gasped at those words.
“Or you could rob me and make a run for it… on foot because Bob’s fixing your car.”
He had a nice voice, deep and even. Calming, Libby thought, when inside she was anything but.
“Libby Gulliver,” she said, “and I won’t steal from you or… ah, or jump you.”
“Okay, so we’re sweet?” He shot her a look. “And I don’t dislike you—we’re just not each other’s type.”
“How do you know my type?”
He did look at her now, running his eyes over her body. “Rich guy, classy suits, who can take you on vacations in the Bahamas and throw plenty of money about the place?”
She should be really insulted, but the truth was, he was right. She’d only ever dated guys like that.
“And you like girls who bake apple pie from scratch and want a house, kids, and a homey life.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” He raised a brow but didn’t seem overly upset by her words.
“No, it’s not a bad thing, but it’s not my thing.”
“Okay, we got that sorted, so you can relax and stop hovering over me.”
Could she stay here? Alone with a man she didn’t know. June Matilda told her he was a good man, and Meadow worked for him. Surely, she wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t?
She was so tired and just wanted to fall into that enormous chair beside his sofa. Instead, she walked away from him, down the hallway. The first door on the right was open, so she entered.
The room had a double bed and thick deep-green curtains closed against the cold. The comforter was patchwork, and Libby wondered who’d made it for him. Across the foot of the bed was a thick blanket. There was a wardrobe and a chest of drawers.
Nice, she thought, and homey. Finding her case beside the bed, she opened it and started pulling off all the clothes she wore. Taking out her toiletries, she found a bathroom next door and locked it. Not knowing when she would get another shower before leaving Lyntacky, Libby turned it on. Stepping into the warm spray, she saw a bar of soap, one thing of shampoo, and nothing else.
Her parents’ home had four bathrooms, and each was loaded with products from the women who lived there. Thinking of her sisters made her sad, so Libby washed, then shut off the water. After she’d dried and dressed, she went back to the bedroom and repacked her bag.
One night, and she’d put her case against the door. The chair in the corner would probably wedge under the door handle too.
Libby could honestly say she’d never believed her life would end up here, in a house with a stranger because she had nowhere else to go.