Chapter 18 #2
The moment she pulled it open, I slammed my lips against hers, pushing her back inside as I kicked the door closed. My tongue tangled with hers in this sensual dance that we seemed to have perfected overnight.
She started tearing at my clothes, desperate to get me naked, but there were things we needed to talk about first. No, there were things I needed to tell her.
Pulling back, I gripped both of her arms and smiled at her. “You’ll never believe what happened today.”
“You met with Mr. Peterson,” she grinned.
“What? How did you—”
“And you’re taking over his practice. Are you going to keep the name? It’s a little old-fashioned. I think you could do better.”
I frowned, feeling like the whole thing was a little anticlimactic now. “How did you know? I haven’t told a living soul.”
“Um…because that’s the way the town functions,” she laughed. “The minute you walked through his door, everyone was talking about it.”
I thought back to this morning, trying to remember if anyone was around, but all I remembered were empty streets.
“Pam was delivering the mail, and she saw you go in. That’s how it started, and ten minutes later, over half the town knew you were sitting across the desk from Mr. Peterson. I’m pretty sure Bud had a telescope and was sitting in the drugstore reading lips.”
“So, the whole town knows?”
“Well, I’m not sure about the specific details, but the rumor is that you’re taking over the practice.” She beamed up at me. “So, is it true?”
For the first time in a long time, I smiled an actual happy smile. “Yeah, I’m gonna take it over.”
“That’s brilliant!” she squealed, jumping into my arms and hugging me tight. “Are you going to change the name? Do you have a massive amount of ideas for how you’ll run it? Do you need a secretary?”
“Hold on,” I laughed at her excitement. “I literally just signed the contract to take over and buy him out.”
She rolled her eyes at me, knowing I had more than that accomplished.
“Yes, I’m going to need a secretary. Yes, I’m going to change the name, but I haven’t thought of anything yet.
And I know exactly how I want to run it.
Bringing in clients could be difficult out here, though.
The old man hasn’t had much luck in recent years, aside from wills for the elderly and handling smaller cases. ”
“Well, I have no doubt you’ll do a wonderful job.”
That was a strange reaction to get from her. “How do you know?”
“One, you’re sexy. That smile alone will bring in customers. Two, you’re brilliant. Anyone can see that. And three, the fact that you want it tells me all I need to know. You’ll do a wonderful job, and no one will be able to hold you back.”
That kind of faith in me was something I wasn’t entirely used to. Yes, I had proven myself in New York, but no one had outright believed in me for no reason other than I had used my skills to outsmart other lawyers in the courtroom.
“So, did you tell your parents?”
“Nah. Not sure they’d care.”
“What? Ryder, you have to tell them! This is exciting news, and you can’t let them hear about it from people around town.”
“Not sure I really care,” I shrugged, taking a seat on her couch.
“But…Ryder—”
“Enough, Ellie! I don’t get along with my dad. I’ve only been a disappointment to him, so sorry if I don’t rush off to tell him my plans.”
She sank next to me, sighing. “I’m sorry. I just…”
“I know,” I said, rubbing my hand over my face. “I just want to enjoy this moment without my old man yelling at me for not thinking of the ranch.”
“He has to realize by now that you’re not taking it over.”
“You would think,” I grumbled.
“What about your sisters? Surely, you want to share this with them.”
My sisters were off living their own lives. Other than the occasional check-in, we rarely talked. And nothing was deep enough to feel meaningful.
“I just want to spend the night with you.”
Her eyes softened at my words, and she stopped arguing with me about it.
“Well, you’re just in time for dinner.”
“Yeah? Making anything special?”
“Not particularly, but I’m hungry, so come talk to me while I cook.”
I followed her into the kitchen, taking a seat as I watched her move around with ease.
“Did you get everything done at the shop today?”
“Yep. I had to send one box back because it was a duplicate order, but other than that, everything went fine.”
“Good.” I thought about the boutique, and how it seemed to be thriving in a small town. That didn’t really seem to work out somehow. “Did you have a busy day?”
“Not really. Not many customers came into the store, but tourist season is really picking up. I’ll be swamped in another week or two.”
“And the business does fine just during those months?”
She stopped cutting up the chicken and smirked at me. “Interested in my business?”
“Just wondering how a clothing shop in a small town does so well.”
She set down the knife and leaned forward. “Honestly, I only sell clothes as a front. My real business is in the drug trade.”
“You’re so funny,” I glowered.
She resumed cutting up the meat. “Actually, I’m getting my online store built up so I can start shipping out orders. That should help with the slower months. But the summer and winter really bring in a fair share of customers.”
“And right now?”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again. “It’s not going great, but things will pick up,” she said, her smile strained.
I got the feeling something else was going on, but when she didn’t immediately bring it up, I didn’t try to pull it out of her.
“What are you making?”
“Coq Au Vin.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That’s fancy.”
“I like experimenting.”
“So, you’ve never made this before,” I said hesitantly.
“Nope, but that’s the great thing about cooking. You get to experience new things every day.”
“I had no idea you liked to cook.”
“Well, I do,” she said, picking up a carrot and popping it in her mouth. “Plus, this has wine in it. What’s not to like about that?” She spun around and pulled down a wine glass. “Want some?”
“Sure. Why not?”
She poured herself a generous glass, then a second for me. I wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but I had to admit, sitting here with her while she cooked for me was appealing. I could see myself spending a lot of nights like this.
Nothing like this had ever happened with Bianca. She wasn’t much of a cook and preferred to go out to dinner instead of dirtying anything in the kitchen.
In fact, any time I suggested we cook something together, she turned up her nose at it. At the time, I assumed she just liked going out, but now I wondered if there was something more to it.
“Hey, everything okay over there?” Ellie asked, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
“Yeah.” Clearing my throat, I tried desperately to drag my mind out of that time of my life. There was nothing worse than dredging up the past and things you couldn’t change, but the longer I sat there, the more pissed off I became.
I swallowed the whole glass of wine in one go, then strode over to the counter and grabbed the bottle, pouring myself another glass.
“Ryder, is everything—”
“It’s fine,” I snapped.
Setting the knife down, she turned to me, eyeing me carefully. “What the hell happened? In the span of two minutes, you got all pissed off, and I have no idea why.”
I shoved my fingers through my hair, gritting my teeth that I had to explain myself. “I was just thinking of Bianca.”
Her eyebrows shot up at that, and she picked up the knife, resuming her chopping.
“Well, it’s nice to know that you’re thinking of another woman while you’re with me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I snapped. God, this was all coming out wrong. “You were cooking, and it just reminded me that she never wanted to cook.”
“Okay,” Ellie said slowly.
“She always wanted to go out. And at first, I thought she just wanted to go on dates, but now…”
“Now what?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Why does this even matter? It’s over.”
“You’re the one who slammed back a glass of wine. I was simply cooking.”
“Yeah, and that’s the fucking problem,” I argued. “You were just cooking. Just doing this simple thing that’s so fucking sexy. Why do you have to do that?”
“Cook? Because I would like to stay alive long enough to reach the age of ninety, and call me crazy, but eating grass doesn’t sound very appealing!”
“No, I mean, why the hell does everything you do have to be so fucking sexy?”
She flinched back in shock.
I rounded the counter, stalking her like prey. “You’re cooking for me. Do you know how fucking sexy that is?”
She swallowed hard, backing up another step. “Technically, I was cooking for myself when you showed up and inserted yourself into my dinner plans.”
A low growl sounded in my throat as I watched her breasts heave with every breath. Fuck, this was bad.
“I hope you can finish this later.”
“Why?” she said breathlessly.
“Because otherwise, dinner’s gonna be burned.”