Chapter 5
5
ISABEL
T he lobby of The Palmetto Rose was a kaleidoscope of motion—guests gliding through on their way to the shops, porters with luggage carts stacked high, and the soft sounds of polite conversations underscored by the clink of glassware from the adjacent bar. I stood behind the marble front desk, my hands moving automatically as I entered room assignments into the system.
It was a routine I could do in my sleep, and most days, I liked the rhythm of it. But today? My thoughts were everywhere except where they were supposed to be.
Last night had unraveled me.
It wasn’t just the party or the humiliating fiasco with Pia and Ben. It was him. Ryker Dane. His presence lingered like smoke—unshakable, heavy, and far too tempting for someone like me. I could still hear the way his voice dipped when he spoke, the edge of command in every word. It wasn’t fair for a man to carry that much power in silence, let alone with a single glance.
And yet, I wondered if he had noticed me beyond the bare minimum of his job. Will asked him to look out for me, and Ryker delivered. End of story.
I sighed, pushing the memory aside as I finished checking in a couple celebrating their anniversary. They looked at each other with such unguarded affection that it made something ache in my chest. I wanted that someday. But the guys I dated were always the safe ones—the ones who didn’t make my heart race or my hands sweat. Guys I could walk away from without looking back.
Not men like Ryker.
“Hey, Izzy.” Sasha Benning, my coworker, leaned over the desk with a knowing smirk. “There’s a guy over there who can’t stop staring at you. Tall, dark, and broody.”
My stomach lurched before she could even point him out. “What?” I hissed, heat rushing to my cheeks.
She nodded toward the seating area across the lobby. “By the piano. Looks like he walked out of a men’s magazine or something.”
I didn’t have to look to know who she meant. The air around me shifted, charged with a crackling tension that had nothing to do with the hotel’s signature scent of jasmine and rose. Still, I forced myself to glance over, my breath catching when my eyes landed on not one, but two familiar faces.
Will was sitting in one of the plush chairs, looking annoyingly casual in a fitted T-shirt and jeans. Ryker stood beside him, his broad shoulders cutting an imposing figure against the backdrop of polished brass and gleaming chandeliers. He was dressed simply—dark jeans, a gray Henley, and a leather jacket slung over one arm—but he looked like he belonged anywhere he damn well pleased .
“Tell me that’s your brother,” Sasha whispered, her tone dripping with envy. “Because if it’s not, I’m claiming him.”
“It’s Will,” I said quickly, though my voice came out uneven. “And his friend.”
Sasha arched an eyebrow. “Friend, huh? The kind who flirts with you at a party and then shows up at your work the next day? That kind of friend?”
I shouldn’t have told her.
I didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, I smoothed my skirt, tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and headed toward them.
Will’s face lit up when he saw me, but Ryker’s expression didn’t change. His eyes tracked my every movement, cool and unrelenting, as if he were cataloging every detail of my appearance. I felt it like a physical weight, the heat of his gaze brushing over me in a way that made my skin prickle.
“Izzy.” Will stood and pulled me into a quick hug. “Got a minute to talk?”
“Sure,” I said, glancing nervously at Ryker. He hadn’t moved, his hands resting casually in his pockets, but his presence was a tangible force, filling the space between us. “I can take my lunch break. Let’s go to the café. It’s quieter. I need something to eat, anyway.”
Will nodded, and the three of us walked past the bustling lobby toward the hotel’s café, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint sweetness of pastries. We ordered food then found a corner table by the window. I sat between them, feeling the tension knotting in my stomach.
“I wanted to check in before things get crazy,” Will said, his tone unusually serious. He glanced at Ryker, who gave him a barely perceptible nod before leaning back in his chair.
“What’s going on?” I asked, already bracing myself for the answer.
Will hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve got an assignment. Overseas. Leaving right away. It’s going to be … a while.”
My heart sank. “How long?”
“A year, maybe more,” he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. “It’s a big contract, Izzy. I couldn’t say no.”
I swallowed hard, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
“Do you?” Will’s eyes searched mine, his expression softening. “Because I know it’s been hard since Dad …”
He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. Our dad’s sudden death last year had been a blow neither of us had fully recovered from. We’d already lost our mom when we were kids—a car accident that left Will and me clinging to each other like lifelines. Now, with Dad gone, it felt like the ground beneath us was constantly shifting.
“I’m fine,” I said, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. “I’m used to being on my own.”
Will didn’t look convinced. “I know you’re strong, but that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”
“Who’s going to help me? Pia?” I laughed, the sound brittle. “She can barely keep her own life together. Sasha is much the same.”
Will leaned forward, his gaze steady. “You won’t be alone. Ryker’s here.”
My head snapped toward Ryker, who hadn’t said a word since we sat down. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark and unyielding—that made my pulse stutter.
“Ryker?” I echoed, incredulous. “Will, he’s …” I tr ailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Cold? Intimidating? Completely uninterested in babysitting your little sister?
“Capable,” Will said firmly. “He’s one of the few people I trust to keep you safe.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
Ryker finally spoke, his tone as measured as his gaze. “It’s not about what you need. It’s about what Will asked.”
The simplicity of his statement left me reeling. He didn’t say he wanted to help, only that he would because Will had asked. The idea of Ryker watching over me felt both suffocating and strangely reassuring, though I didn’t want to admit it.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “I can handle myself.”
Will sighed, his frustration clear. “Izzy, I’ll feel better if I know you’re not alone.”
I wanted to argue, to tell him that I didn’t need anyone, but the words wouldn’t come. The truth was, the thought of Will being gone for so long terrified me. Memories of other times he’d left resurfaced, unbidden—long nights in our empty house after Mom died, the oppressive silence after Dad’s funeral, the aching loneliness that never seemed to go away.
But Ryker? He wasn’t the kind of person who offered comfort. He was all sharp edges and quiet authority, the kind of man who didn’t ask if you were okay because he already knew you weren’t.
I glanced at him again, taking in the rigid line of his jaw and the way his hands rested on the table, steady and unshakable. The thought of him stepping into Will’s place, even temporarily, felt impossible .
And yet, a small part of me—a part I hated—wanted to trust him. A part of me wanted to do more than just trust him.
“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
Will shook his head. “Not on this.”
I exhaled slowly, nodding in reluctant agreement. “Fine. But don’t expect me to like it.”
Will smiled, his relief evident. “You don’t have to like it. You just have to let him do his job.”
I avoided Ryker’s gaze as we ate sandwiches and finished the conversation, focusing on the view of the busy sidewalk outside the window instead. As Will talked, though, his voice reassuring, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Ryker’s eyes on me. It wasn’t overt or intrusive, but it was there, like a low current I couldn’t ignore.
When we finished eating and stood to leave, Will pulled me into another hug. “I’ll call when I can,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He held me tightly, reluctant to let me go. “Take care of yourself, okay, Izzy Harper?”
“You too, Will Harper,” I whispered, squeezing him tightly. He was a good brother. “Be careful out there. I need you to come back safe. You hear?”
As Will nodded and stepped away, Ryker moved to follow, his expression as unreadable as ever. Just before he turned, he paused, his eyes meeting mine with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
“I’ll see you around,” he said, his voice low.
I nodded, unable to form a coherent response. As they walked away, I was left staring after them. The café felt quieter, though the room was still buzzing with conversations and the clinking of mugs on saucers.
I sank back into my chair, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as if that would hold me together. Will’s words replayed in my mind, blending with the memory of Ryker’s steady, unflinching gaze. I’ll see you around. He made it sound so simple, so easy.
Ryker watching over me? The idea made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t want to examine too closely. He wasn’t the kind of man who faded into the background. His presence was commanding, almost suffocating, like he could see right through the layers I used to protect myself. And yet, the thought of him being nearby—of not having to face the long nights alone—wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
What did that say about me? That I was desperate enough to feel comforted by the presence of a man who probably saw me as nothing more than a duty, a favor to his best friend? My cheeks burned at the thought.
I glanced at the clock and realized my lunch break was almost over. Pushing myself to my feet, I threw away our trash and headed back to the front desk, slipping into my usual routine like it could somehow dull the edges of my thoughts.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Ryker’s eyes lingering on me, or the way my pulse quickened when he said my name. He was a storm waiting on the horizon.
The rhythmic hum of The Palmetto Rose lobby greeted me as I slid back behind the front desk, the chatter of guests and the gentle notes of piano music filling the air like a cocoon. It was the kind of ambiance that usually helped me refocus, but today, it barely dented the whirlwind in my mind.
I leaned against the desk, staring at the system monitor as if it held answers.
A year. Maybe more. It was a timeline I wasn’t prepared for, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise.
“Back to the grind?” Sasha’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me out of the haze.
I glanced over to see her leaning on the counter, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She had a knack for showing up just when I needed a distraction—or when she sensed there was gossip to uncover.
“Something like that,” I muttered, adjusting the name tag pinned to my blouse.
Sasha cocked her head, her eyes narrowing with interest. “You’ve been weirdly quiet all day. Spill. Did Will drop some heavy family bomb, or are you just mooning over Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody?”
I rolled my eyes, heat creeping up my neck. “Neither.”
“Uh-huh.” She drew the words out, her smirk widening. “Come on, Izzy. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the way Ryker was practically glued to your side in the café. If looks could smolder, the place would’ve gone up in flames.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I protested, though my voice lacked conviction. “He’s just … doing Will a favor.”
Sasha raised an eyebrow, her grin downright devilish. “Oh, honey. That man doesn’t look at you like you’re a favor. He looks at you like you’re a problem he’d very much like to solve.”
I groaned, pressing my hands to my cheeks as if I could cool the blush spreading across them. “Can we not talk about this?”
“Sure,” she said breezily, her tone suggesting the opposite. “But just so you know, if you don’t go for it, I might.”
I shot her a glare, but she laughed, leaning closer. “ Seriously, though. What’s the deal? You two have this whole tension thing going on, and don’t even try to deny it. I saw the way you were looking at him.”
“There’s nothing going on,” I said firmly, though the words felt hollow. “He’s … not interested in me like that.”
Sasha snorted. “Girl, you need to give yourself more credit. Men like him don’t waste their time unless they’re interested.”
I wanted to argue, but the words stuck in my throat. Ryker was an enigma—silent, imposing, and completely out of my league. The idea of him being interested in me was absurd. Yet, I couldn’t stop replaying the moments we’d shared, the way his gaze lingered a second too long or how his voice dipped when he spoke my name.
“Let me guess,” Sasha said, breaking into my thoughts again. “You’re thinking about all the reasons it would never work. He’s too cold, too serious, too … what’s the word? Intimidating?”
I didn’t answer, but the look on my face must have been enough, because she let out a triumphant laugh. “Knew it. Izzy, let me give you a little advice. Sometimes, the best things are the ones that scare the hell out of you.”
Her words hung in the air, teasing at the edges of my resolve. She wasn’t wrong. My entire dating history was a series of safe choices, of relationships that were comfortable but lacked spark. Ryker was the antithesis of everything I thought I wanted, and maybe that was exactly why I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Still, the idea of pursuing anything with him felt impossible. He was older, more experienced, and carried himself with a confidence that made me feel like a naive little girl in comparison. He probably saw me as a kid—Will’s baby sister who needed watching over, not someone worth noticing.
“I’m not his type,” I said finally, trying to shut the conversation down.
Sasha shrugged, her grin softening into something more sincere. “Maybe. But you’re someone’s type, Izzy. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Her words stayed with me long after she went back to her work, leaving me to finish out my shift in relative silence. I tried to focus on the tasks in front of me, but my thoughts kept drifting, circling back to Ryker. Ugh .
By the time I got home that night after my double shift, I was no closer to sorting out my feelings. Pia was sprawled on the couch with her laptop, barely looking up as I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my shoes.
“Long day?” she asked, glancing at me over the top of her screen.
“You have no idea,” I muttered, collapsing into the armchair across from her.
She smirked. “Well, at least you’ve got Mr. Bodyguard to keep things interesting.”
Will must have texted her.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Not you, too.”
“What?” she said innocently. “It’s not every day a brooding billionaire takes an interest in your roommate. I’m just saying, if you don’t want him, I’ll gladly?—”
“Pia,” I interrupted, shooting her a warning look.
She laughed, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But seriously, Izzy. Don’t overthink it. If he’s offering to look out for you, let him. You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know. ”
Her words were well-meaning, but they only reminded me of how much I hated feeling dependent on anyone. I’d spent years building a life for myself, working my way through college and landing a job in hospitality—my dream career. I wasn’t about to let anyone, not even Ryker, make me feel like I couldn’t handle things on my own.
As I climbed into bed that night, though, I couldn’t stop the flicker of doubt creeping in. Maybe Pia and Sasha were right. Maybe I was overthinking it. Or maybe Ryker was just doing what he always did—analyzing the situation, finding the safest path forward, and keeping his promises to Will.
As I closed my eyes and let sleep take me, it wasn’t Will’s words that echoed in my mind. It was Ryker’s. Call it whatever you want. But I’m not the kind of person who walks away when there’s a job to do.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine.