Chapter 7
Ryder had heard Libby walk away but kept his eyes on the TV, not that he’d seen what was happening. His thoughts had been on her and cooling the anger that still flowed through his veins after finding her in her car after that confrontation with Grill.
It had been a hunch that had him driving to Bob’s garage—an accurate one, as it turned out. He’d taken one look at her car and seen the condensation on the window and known he had to get the bikers out of there. So he’d focused on Grill and the other idiot with him before dealing with Libby.
Forcing down his anger, he’d fought just like all those martial arts teachers had taught him.
“Yeah,” he answered his phone on the second ring.
“They left town, Ryder. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, all good, Uncle Asher. No damage done.”
“You should have phoned me or your brother before you took them on, Ry, I know you probably dealt with them easily because I’ve seen you in action, but still, I would have rather been there at least for backup.”
“I promise to do that next time. I guess the anger got the better of me seeing them about to break into Bob’s shop.”
“Strange that, Ryder, seeing as you’re the Duke who doesn’t let his anger out often. You got nothing else riding you?” his uncle asked.
“You know the history we have with Grill and how he’s always threatening someone in the family,” Ryder said. No way was he mentioning Libby.
“I do, and because of it, I thought I told you to make sure you never deal with any of those idiots alone.”
“Okay, lecture over, and I promise I won’t again.”
“I have another question for you now because your brother’s been gnawing on something.”
“You know Dan, there’s always something on his mind.”
“True that. Do you know where Libby Gulliver is staying tonight? Dan was worried about her after he saw her when he was picking up my waffles for dinner. He questioned her about where she was sleeping, and she said she had it covered. He wasn’t so sure.”
Fuck!
“I don’t like to think she’s out there somewhere sleeping rough. I called everyone I could think of, but?—”
“Okay, if I tell you she’s here, will you swear not to tell anyone else, and by anyone, I mean my family and everyone in this town,” Ryder said.
His uncle’s chuckle was low. “Night, Nephew, you sleep well now, and your secret is safe with me.”
Ryder exhaled and then sat back to continue eating his meal. His uncle was possibly the only member of his family who would keep a secret like Libby staying at his house, but even then, he couldn’t be 100 percent sure.
What fool does something like sleep in their car in the middle of winter? A desperate one, he answered himself. Ryder remembered a few times in his life he’d been desperate, but he’d never been desperate and alone, which Libby Gulliver clearly was.
She’d come out of that car ready for an argument, so he’d dragged her to his and left her there while he collected her things and called Dan about the Bandits. He’d also taken a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
What the hell was that woman’s story, and why did he want so badly to know it?
He hadn’t been lying when he’d said she wasn’t his type. High-maintenance women never had been, but he’d felt something deep in his chest when he’d seen those red-rimmed eyes after he’d pulled Libby out of her car.
She clearly had pride, which he understood, but not when it could be dangerous. Ryder heard the shower start and thought that at least now she was showing some sense. Or would she later slip out of the house when he was asleep? He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
His eyes moved around the living room. Like the cafe, this was his place, and he loved it. He’d bought it on a whim because it was close to work and gave him space. His family thought it a good investment, but the first night he slept here he realized that this was just another something that had been missing inside him.
Ryder was cautious, and he’d not left home until now. He’d heard his mom talking years ago about it to his uncle, saying that out of all of them, it was Ryder who had the deepest scars after their father died.
More fears if he was honest. Fear that someone else would be taken from him and his life would be plunged into hell again. He was an adult now and had worked through stuff, but that small boy was still inside him.
When his uncle had told him about the old Hamilton place, as everyone in town called it and would for at least another decade, he’d gone for a look and bought it that day.
It had suited him to have his mother fuss over him and make his meals because let’s face it, why would you leave that? But it was time for him to be independent. So he’d finally moved out of the family home.
There was plenty of renovating to do. Ryder wanted to open this area up so the living, dining, and kitchen were all one big space, and he would get to that with help from his brothers—two of whom owned a timber yard and were good with their hands.
He’d worked on their properties and knew that when he asked, they’d do the same for him.
“Hey.”
Her voice had him turning his head to the doorway. She stood behind the sofa dressed in leggings and a thick black sweater. Her hair was wet, and her face scrubbed clean. Libby looked about fifteen, except for those eyelashes.
“You hungry?”
She started to shake her head and then changed it to a nod.
Pride, he thought, she had bucketloads of it like he did.
“In the kitchen,” he said, waving his fork that way. “Have at it.”
“Thank you.” Her tone was polite and distant. Then she walked away.
Had she run from her wedding, or was that someone else’s wedding dress that Bob found in her trunk?
Five minutes later, she was back with one of his plates full of meat loaf.
Ryder was on to the apple pie.
She took the armchair next to the sofa he sat on. Even from that distance, he could smell the hint of something sweet coming off her body or hair.
“I will repay you for a night’s board and the food. I also understand if you don’t want me to work for you now.”
“Because?” Ryder shot her a look; her eyes were on the game.
“Because you’re annoyed,” she mumbled. “Because I slept in my car, and you got in a fight with those two biker men.”
“Biker men?”
“Bikers?”
“Way better, and they’re Bandits. That’s the name of their club. Don’t worry about them. They’re assholes, and my family is always getting into it with them.”
“Why?” She tilted her head slightly to the right like Ally’s dog did.
“It’s a long story, but we have history.”
“I heard a bit about you Dukes today,” she said.
“All good I hope?”
“Don’t mess with a Duke, Linda told me, because they fight as a pack, and there’s just no winning against them.”
“She’s not wrong,” he said, shooting the TV another look before returning to Libby. “I said I’d give you a job, so I will.”
“And I will find other lodgings in the morning.”
“Nice new coat, by the way,” he said because she was tense and that wasn’t helping his digestion.
“I went to the thrift store.”
“June’s a good salesperson. What else did she sell you?”
“This sweater.”
“Nice. Well, at least you’ll be warm now.”
Neat, Ryder thought. She sat with her legs pressed together, dinner on her lap, and now she was calmer, speaking in a cool, precise way. He wondered again what her story was, because he just bet his new stand mixer that this wasn’t the life she’d been born and raised in. Again, just a hunch, but he was sure it was an accurate one.
She forked in a small mouthful of food and chewed but never moved her eyes from the screen. His family was used to fighting over every piece of food on a table, so no one ate small mouthfuls or took too long doing it. He turned back to watch the game.
“Aw, come on, that was a penalty all day!” Ryder bellowed in outrage.
“It was only a minor penalty,” Libby said.
“You’re kidding me, right?” He glared at her.
“Not at all. It was a minor altercation, and both should receive minor penalties,” Libby added.
“I call BS.”
She ignored his words and continued to watch. In fact, her eyes never moved as she took small, concise bites of her meal until it was finished.
“The Rangers or the Warriors?” Ryder asked at the end of the second period.
“Pardon?” She shot him a look.
“Which team do you support?”
She didn’t want to answer, and his guess was because it would give something away. He just wasn’t sure what.
“I like ice hockey” was all she said.
“And I repeat, Rangers or Warriors?”
“Warriors,” she said softly.
“I’m not sure I can let you stay here now,” Ryder said seriously. Her eyes shot to his. “That was a joke, Libby.”
She nodded.
“Apple pie in the kitchen, if you want it?”
“No, this was lovely. Thank you again.” She fell silent, looking at her empty plate. “I shouldn’t be here, Ryder?—”
“I’ve said it’s okay, so relax.”
“I’m not sure I can.”