Chapter 47 Louise
LOUISE
No. Freaking. Way.
I hurried across the living room. Ryder turned from the door and looked at me, his expression a mix of rage and confusion.
On the porch stood Miles, Margie, and Austin, bags in hand.
I repeat: Bags in hand.
Miles looked confused, and Austin looked wary. Margie—beautiful blond, skinny Margie—on the other hand, gawked at Ryder like a lovestruck teenager. I didn’t like it. Not one damn bit.
As usual, she was freshly showered and wearing full makeup, dressed from head to toe in designer duds. I ignored the pang of jealousy, as well as the possessiveness that settled like coal in my stomach.
Grabbing the door, I stepped in front of Ryder, whose eyes were burning holes through the side of my face.
“Hey, I’m so sorry,” Margie whispered, the authenticity of her apology fading with the grin creeping to her face as her attention flicked to Ryder.
“We checked out of the Towering Pines to head home but slid on a patch of black ice a few miles into the trip. My dad said the roads to Ponco were still bad, so we decided to wait it out until tomorrow. Thing is, all the hotels are still booked. We tried to call you, but it kept going to voice mail. I guess you don’t have reception here. ”
“Did you leave a voice mail?” I asked—which was totally irrelevant at that point.
“No. Anyway, I remembered the message you asked Austin to give us a few days ago.”
My gaze shifted to Miles, to Austin, then back to Margie, but it was Austin who spoke next.
“And Margie suggested we should crash at your friend’s house at the, quote, castle on the hill down county road 2355.”
Ryder released a pained grunt from beside me.
Shit. Damn, damn, damn, shit.
Mack’s laughter echoed from the kitchen.
“Oh. Well, uh…” I glanced at Ryder, who turned and walked away without a word. I turned back to the crew. “Um, sure. Okay… There’s plenty of room. Come on in.”
Margie wiggled her brows as she stepped past me. “Oh my God. He’s so hot.”
Mack and Roman muttered something to Ryder, then breezed out the front door chuckling. Teasing him, I’d guess, based on the grins on their faces.
After a quick survey of the place, Miles turned to me with a questioning frown.
“He just moved in,” I lied.
“Oh. Okay.”
“So, uh, yeah, come on in.”
Bags were dropped by the doorway. My anxiety hit the roof.
Margie, totally comfortable in a stranger’s house, sauntered into the living room and walked right up to Ryder, who was glowering at me with his hands on his hips.
“Beautiful place you got here.” She thrust out her hand with its long, delicate fingers. “I’m Margie.”
“Ryder,” he muttered, ignoring her hand.
Not seeming bothered at all by his rudeness, she dropped her hand and smiled up at him. “Is all this land yours?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ma’am.” She giggled.
I rolled my eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t mind us staying?” she asked, her Southern drawl suddenly twice as thick.
Ryder’s gaze shifted to Miles and Austin.
When Ryder didn’t respond, Margie took that as a yes. “Thank you. You know, I used to—”
“Louise, why don’t you introduce me to your friends?” Ryder stepped around Margie, his focus fixed on the two other men in the house.
I made introductions and hands were shaken. I swear I heard Miles wince. “This is the crew from Ponco who came over to help with the search for Kara.”
A minute of silence passed, feeling more like a year, and I clapped my hands. “So. Uh. You guys want a drink? Food?”
“Yes,” said three voices in perfect unison.
Ryder walked closely next to me as we headed to the kitchen. “I just moved in, huh?”
I groaned. “I’m sorry. But you do need to get some furniture.”
When Ryder didn’t offer the crew anything, I stepped in. I couldn’t take another second of the brutal awkwardness.
“So, what would you guys—”
“Holy crap. Is that Pappy Van Winkle?” Miles gawked at the bottle on the counter, where Mack and Roman had helped themselves.
“Want some?” I asked.
“Do I want a glass of two-thousand-dollar-a-bottle whiskey?” Miles face lit with excitement. “Yep, and make it a double.”
“Two thousand dollars?” Margie gasped. “I want some.”
“Austin,” Miles said. “You gotta try some.”
Austin pulled his gaze away from the inspection he was giving the house, stared at Ryder a moment, then nodded. “Sure.”
I raised my brows at Ryder. He was watching Austin closely.
I shook my head, grabbed five highball glasses, and poured us each a shot.
After passing them around, Ryder included, we settled into the kitchen, me leaning against the counter, Margie and Miles at the breakfast nook, and Austin pacing while continually glancing out the window.
He reminded me of Ryder, always hyperalert. I wondered why.
“So, how do you two know each other?” Margie asked.
“Ryder hired me to photograph his horses once,” I lied.
Ryder’s brow raised slightly as he sipped.
“Oh, I love horses. I grew up riding them. My grandma and grampa had an Appaloosa.” Margie scanned the walls. “Where are the pictures you took?”
“Storage,” Ryder said dryly. “I just moved in, remember?”
I cleared my throat. It was going to be a long night.