Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sunny
We’re knee deep in spreadsheets, and I’m starting to feel like I’ve been living in Excel for days. But a weird rhythm has formed between Ryder and me.
I mean, who knew we’d make such a great team? Not me, that’s for sure.
I’m sitting at the desk, flicking through another stack of papers, when I realize I’ve been holding my breath.
That happens a lot lately. I forget to breathe when I’m trying to figure out if there’s a pattern hidden in the numbers.
Tinsel jumps up onto the desk, weaving between the piles of contracts like she owns the place. I let out a frustrated laugh, brushing her aside gently, but the soft weight of her curling against my arm is… oddly comforting.
Even when the numbers make no sense, at least one thing in this room isn’t falling apart.
My fingers start to ache, and my eyes feel like they’ve been sandpapered, but I’m so focused that I almost don’t notice when Ryder leans over the desk, his elbow brushing mine.
“I don’t like any of this,” I mutter, staring at the sheet in front of me.
“I can tell,” he replies calmly. “But the deeper we get into it, I don’t think Evie did anything wrong. I really don’t think she was behind this.”
I glance up to see him watching me with a quiet intensity. He’s genuinely trying to piece it all together, too.
And for a second, it’s not so overwhelming. Not so impossible.
We’re getting closer, but there’s still so much to uncover, and I don’t want to be the one to drop the ball.
“You wonder if we’re just missing something huge?” I ask, twisting in my seat, trying to shake off the tension in my back.
I don’t know why I say it. Maybe I need to talk.
Ryder looks over at me, his eyes catching mine in a way that makes my heart do a small, unexpected flip.
“I guess we are, right?”
I let out a slow breath and look back down at the paper, my finger running down a line of numbers that seems to blur the more I stare at it.
My brain is starting to melt, and I swear, if one more column doesn’t add up, I might scream.
I shift in my seat, rubbing my eyes, trying to push through the fatigue.
“You know,” I start, maybe a little too loud, “I’ve worked in a lot of different fields, but accounting? That was never on my resume.”
Ryder’s quiet laugh catches me by surprise. I look up at him, blinking.
“Really?” he says, light and teasing. “And here I thought you were a trained accountant this whole time.”
I huff, rolling my eyes dramatically. “Oh yeah, I’ve totally got a certificate in ‘Advanced Spreadsheet Wizardry.’ Didn’t you see it on my LinkedIn?”
He chuckles again, and it’s the first real laugh I’ve heard from him in days. It’s so unexpected, and it makes the tension in the room crack just a little bit.
I smile despite myself, the warmth from his laugh doing something strange to my chest.
“Well, I’ve also never been a lawyer,” I add, gesturing toward the pile of contracts we’re sifting through. “But, you know, I might just put that on my LinkedIn, too. ‘Specializing in reading legalese after too much coffee and too little sleep.’”
Ryder’s lips quirk at my words, and he leans back slightly in his chair. But then his expression softens, and there’s this strange moment where I feel like the air between us shifts.
“You know,” he says slowly, “you remind me of her.”
I blink, caught off guard. “Her?”
He nods, a quiet smile tugging at his mouth, though it’s a little bittersweet. “Evie. Your aunt. You remind me of her sometimes. The way you… dive in without hesitation, even when things seem impossible. That whole ‘fake it ’til you make it’ attitude. She used to do the same thing.”
I don’t know why, but his words make my chest tighten.
My aunt, who was always larger than life to me, who always appeared to have everything under control. How could I possibly remind him of her?
“I… I don’t know about that,” I stammer, pushing a stray curl out of my face, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Evie was… she was a force, right? She doesn’t seem like someone who’d have been caught dead panicking over spreadsheets.”
Ryder’s gaze softens even more. “No. You’re right.
She was… different. But in the way that she handled things, her ability to keep moving, no matter what, even when things were falling apart around her, that’s what I’m talking about.
She didn’t stop, even when she had reason to. She knew how to keep her focus.”
My heart skips a beat.
“You know, I always just think of her as my aunt. It’s kinda wild to think about her differently.”
He smiles. “Well, I met her last year, and it’s because of her that I took the job here.”
“Oh yeah?” I don’t think I’ve heard this story. “She captivated you that much?”
He nods, his lips tight as if to hold something back. “Yeah. I still can’t believe she’s gone. I met her at a café not far from here. Just over breakfast over a few days.”
I can’t help but smile at the thought of them, two strangers with similar habits, probably both lost in their own lives without knowing how they’d eventually connect.
“But eventually,” he continues, “we started to talk. She kinda lured me in, you know?”
I chuckle softly. “I can see that. She always did have a way of drawing people in, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, and then we became friends, and I eventually just wanted to work for her, to help her with the hotel. To figure things out.” He sighs heavily. “But I didn’t have time to help her before she passed away.”
I bite my lip, trying to process everything Ryder’s just shared.
The way he talks about my aunt is so tender, so full of respect, and I can almost picture the two of them at that café—two strangers brought together by routine, then by Evie’s quiet insistence on connection.
“I guess I never realized how much of an impact she had on people outside of our little bubble,” I say quietly, feeling a strange knot of pride and sadness form in my chest. “It makes me sad that I was always so busy trying to hold my life together that I didn’t get down here more.”
Ryder nods. “Well, she obviously understood that, because she left the place to you.”
I let out a little chuckle. “Unless this is my final punishment.”
“Yeah… that too.”
I smile, but I don’t believe those words, not even for a second.
“She had a vision for this place, didn’t she?” I ask. “And I… I need to make sure it doesn’t just slip away. I’m not as good at this as she was, but I can’t let her dream die.”
Ryder looks at me for a long moment, his expression intense, as if he’s weighing something inside himself. Then he nods, just slightly, which feels like a promise.
“I’m glad you’re here, Ryder,” I say, the words coming easier than I expect. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”
I can’t help but laugh, the tension between us breaking like a wave. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll both be Excel experts in no time.”
And that’s when it happens.
Ryder leans in, just a little too close, enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my skin.
His eyes flick down to my lips and then back to my eyes, like he’s not sure if he should, but his body’s already made up its mind.
I’m not sure what happens next, whether I close the distance or if he does, but before I can even take a breath, his lips are on mine.
It starts as a spark, a playful dare, like we’re both testing the waters, even though we’ve been here before, more than once. But tonight, his lips are warm and surprisingly soft, a little teasing, but it’s enough to make my heartbeat faster, my entire body tingling with the heat between us.
I almost laugh, but then it deepens. His hand brushes my arm, and suddenly the world is spinning.
Everything I thought I knew about spreadsheets, about focus, about logic… gone. There’s only this kiss.
Ryder’s lips move against mine, a little impatient, like he can’t get enough. I don’t want him to.
The kiss deepens even further, and I feel my body respond instinctively, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of him all around me. His lips move urgently, like he’s been holding this back as much as I have.
He slides his hand down to my waist, pulling me so close that the space between us is nonexistent. I can feel the thrum of his heartbeat against mine, and the rush of desire floods my veins.
Ryder’s hand slips beneath my shirt, the warmth of his touch sending shivers across my skin. His fingers trace the curve of my waist, making my breath catch in my throat. I tug at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, to close the space between us completely.
His lips break away for a fraction of a second, just enough for me to gasp for air. But then he’s kissing me again, this time more insistent, his tongue brushing against mine in a way that makes me dizzy with need.
I feel his breath on my skin, hot and ragged, as if he’s trying to catch his own breath, but he can’t stop. Neither of us can.
“Ryder,” I murmur, the word slipping from my lips like a plea.
He groans, his hands pulling me even closer, his fingers threading through my hair as if he wants to keep me right here, in this moment, where nothing else matters but the two of us.
His mouth travels down to my neck, and I tilt my head back, letting him explore the sensitive skin there. A shiver runs through me, and I can feel the tension coil in my belly, tightening with each touch, each kiss.
This… this is precisely what I’ve been craving.
His lips find mine again, urgent, desperate, like we’ve been starved for this. I lose myself in it, the taste of him, the heat of him, until my hands are on his chest, pushing his shirt off, eager to feel every inch of his skin.
He groans again, breaking away only to look at me, his eyes dark with desire. The way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing in the world, sends a rush of heat through my body.
It’s just the two of us. And neither of us is holding back.