Chapter Twelve
Ryan stepped into the five-star restaurant, checked his coat, and headed straight for the bar.
Leave it to Logan to pick a fancy waterfront establishment way across town. At least it had parking.
He adjusted his red tie and scanned the main room filled with diners in suits and dresses, looking for a sign of Sarah and Logan. Man, he should never have agreed to this.
He zigzagged through the main room, taking in the glorious Christmas tree in the center with its twinkling lights and brightly colored red and green glass ornaments.
His breath caught, realizing Sarah was standing alone in front of it, looking as sexy as hell in a sleeveless red dress and matching red stilettos, her long hair stick-straight and falling well past her shoulders.
His heart beat against his chest. And that sight was exactly why he was here.
Yeah, he was a glutton for punishment, that much was true. However, after the kiss they’d shared on Monday, sitting on the sidelines wasn’t an option. He’d show up, sit through dinner, and pray for a Hail Mary.
Stopping behind her, he tapped her bare shoulder, the sensation of her skin sending electricity up his arm. “Hey.”
She turned and greeted him with a huge smile. “Ryan! You’re here. Finally.”
He kissed her cheek, feeling a little awkward. “Where’s Logan?”
“He’s at the bar.” She nodded to her left. “With your date. I guess she’s an expert in ordering holiday cocktails. Something about having been a part-time bartender during graduate school.”
“Great skill to have.”
Sarah adjusted her purse strap. “She’s cute.”
“Cute and can order cocktails. I like her already,” he attempted a joke that only got a blank stare. “Um…how was your week?”
She shrugged. “You didn’t miss anything.”
His muscles stiffened. Only her not calling this date off. How was it that they started out the week with her straddling his lap while he palmed her breasts? In no universe did he want to see the week finish off with her on a date with his best friend, but here they were.
From what he could tell, Sarah seemed fine with it.
She turned back to the tree, touching one of its branches with her fingertips. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It really is.” He pointed to the floor. “Although, I bet those boxes are empty.”
“Actually, you’re wrong. There are gifts inside them. One of the waiters told me that they put new ones out every evening and pick restaurant patrons to give them to.” She picked up a small box and handed it to him. “Maybe you could smuggle this out and give it to your Secret Santa.”
“That’s an idea.” He shook the box. Whatever was inside wasn’t making any noise. It was probably a gift certificate to the restaurant.
“I’m sure Hillary will love it.”
“Hillary’s not my Secret Sa—” he started to say before catching Sarah’s wicked grin. “I’m on to you, now.” He returned the present to the tree. “I’m not going to tell you who it is.”
“Maybe not tonight, but I’ve got a little more time to get it out of you.” She pointed at the tree. “You know, I’ve never had a real Christmas tree.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “My mom didn’t really want to deal with the hassle, and my father wouldn’t fight her on it. We had an artificial one that my dad would drag down from the attic every year. Now, my Grandma Leonard—she was a different story. She always had a real Douglas fir. She’d make my grandpa take her to pick it out shortly after Thanksgiving. My two little brothers and I would help her decorate it by making popcorn strings and homemade decorations.” Her hand rested on one of the glass bulbs. “Our ornaments were of the cheap colored construction paper and bright markers kind. Definitely not breakable.”
“The best kind.” Ryan smiled down at her, ignoring the patrons passing them on the way to the bar. Right now it was just him and Sarah. He didn’t give a damn about anyone else, and certainly not the fact that Logan and Corrine were twenty feet away. It probably made him an asshole, but he didn’t care. “Does your grandmother still get her tree?” he asked.
“No. She passed away when I was thirteen. Whenever I’m near a real tree, I think of her and the last year we decorated at her house.” She leaned in, inhaling. “It smells like her home at Christmas—at least how I remember it.”
Ryan’s heart squeezed. “We might have to do something about getting you a real tree this year.”
“I don’t know if I’d want to haul it up five flights of stairs.” She turned to face him, resting her hand on his arm. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all emotional.”
Before he could answer that he really didn’t mind and he’d love to learn more about her family sometime, Logan joined them along with a tall blonde who Ryan assumed must be Corrine.
“Well, look who finally made it.” Logan handed Sarah a martini glass with a peppermint candy cane hanging off its side. “Corrine recommended their signature Christmas martini.”
Sarah’s eyes went wide. “Wow, thanks. It sure is…festive. Did you not get one for yourself?”
Ryan quickly suppressed a smile. Sarah was more of a beer and margarita kind of gal and probably not that excited about Logan’s choice of drink for her. He liked that he knew that about her and Logan didn’t.
“No, but I ordered a bottle of red wine for the table.” Logan turned to Ryan. “Corrine this is Ryan. Ryan, Corrine.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Ryan said and extended his hand. Logan was right. Corrine was super tall, and in her mini black dress that stopped at her thigh, she’d come ready to show some leg.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Corrine flashed a toothy smile.
“Shall we sit down?” Logan asked. “Our table is ready.” He put his hand on the small of Sarah’s back, leading the way.
Ryan’s muscles tensed, and he fisted a hand. Seeing his best friend touch her set off every expletive in his head.
“Should we join them?”
Corrine’s question snapped him back into the moment. “Yeah…um…definitely.” He turned to his date not wanting to show how riled up he’d gotten by Logan’s simply touching Sarah. “Thanks for joining us tonight.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” She laughed. “Or agreeing to be set up for a couple of hours of awkward small talk about how beautiful this panoramic view is.” She pointed to the floor-to-ceiling window, that indeed, showed off a breathtaking view of the Manhattan skyline.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. At least Corrine had a sense of humor. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be a total disaster.
They crossed the room to their table, where Ryan pulled out a chair for his date and then took his own. His leg brushed Sarah’s, who was seated opposite him, and their eyes locked for a second. He quickly moved his leg. “Nice pick, Logan.”
“Wait until you see the menu.” Logan leaned closer to Sarah and winked over at Corrine. “Although, ladies, you may not realize that you are dining with a man that lived on street-vendor hot dogs and anything he could make in his Hot Pot all four years of college.”
“Whatever, man. It was cheap.”
Logan continued to rip on him. “I once caught Ryan sitting on our dorm floor, making dinner for our RA, who he had a massive crush on with only his Hot Pot and plates and silverware he’d stolen from the dining hall.”
Ryan dismissed that. “She was just a friend, and ‘borrowed’ is the operative word. I returned everything the next day, and, hey, what’s wrong with macaroni and cheese?”
“Nothing. I’m glad your palette finally matured,” Logan said, while offering Sarah some bread that had been set on the table.
“Do you like to cook, Logan?” Sarah said, taking a piece.
“Not so much cooking but eating. I love checking out new restaurants.” He winked. “Both for the food and the architecture. There’s this great new Brazilian restaurant in my neighborhood I’ve wanted to try that was designed by one of my dad’s former colleagues. Do you like Brazilian?”
“I’ve never had it,” Sarah said.
“We should plan on checking it out sometime.”
Ryan drained his wineglass, thoroughly pissed off that Logan had basically asked Sarah out on a second date to a restaurant around the corner from his swanky condo.
How fucking convenient. He reached for the wine bottle and refilled his glass.
“So, Ryan…” Logan winked at Corrine. “Corrine worked in the accounting office for the New England Patriots.”
“You’re from Boston?” Ryan asked, unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap.
“I lived there ten years. I’ve been with the Patriots for the last eight.”
“At the stadium in Foxboro?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She brought her drink up to her lips and took a sip. “Having my very own Super Bowl ring? You should feel sorry for me.”
He laughed. “Touché.”
“And I have a spare if you’d like to borrow one sometime.”
“Ryan wouldn’t be caught dead with it.” Logan motioned for Corrine to hand over her glass so he could refill her wine. “Ryan’s a huge Jets fan. It’s the only thing the guy can commit to.” He handed Corrine’s wine back.
Ryan stared at his friend. So, we’re going there this early in the evening? Who cared if he had commitment issues? He reached for the wine bottle from Logan, refilling his glass. “Probably why I don’t commit,” he said, taking a long sip.
“Maybe you need a winning team to support?” Corrine offered and batted her eyelashes.
“Maybe…”
“Ryan and I played football,” came a statement he didn’t expect. Ryan whipped his head in Sarah’s direction. Why was she bringing that up?
“Is that right?” Logan asked, sending an all-knowing smirk across the table aimed at Ryan.
Oblivious that Logan knew about the football-field kiss, Sarah continued, waving her empty martini glass in the air. “He was extremely thorough. Even showed me how he celebrates a tackle. It was very…interactive.”
Ryan choked on his drink. What had gotten into her?
“Did he do one of those funny dances and spike the ball?” asked Corrine.
“Not quite. He chose to do something else,” she said, cocking her head and staring straight at him with pursed lips.
Oh fuck. Ryan eyed her drink. How much alcohol was in that thing?
“Sarah, would you like some water?” Without waiting for her to answer, Logan filled the empty glass next to her.
“Thank you.” She stood and reached for her purse, slinging the strap over her shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”
Ryan watched as Sarah skirted around tables and bolted out of the room. Holy shit. She was jealous. Whatever was going on inside her pretty head, Logan seemed not to be that concerned, diverting his attention to discussing the menu and pointing out different dishes to Corrine.
Had he gotten his Hail Mary? Ryan set his napkin aside. Maybe, but he’d initiated their kissing twice. If Sarah was jealous, it was high time she took the lead and told him what she wanted—strike that, who she wanted. “If you two will excuse me as well…”
He maneuvered through the restaurant to the front lobby, where a pretty hostess pointed in the direction of the restrooms down the hallway.
He stopped in front of the ladies’ room, raking his hand through his hair. A minute went by with one woman coming out followed by two more, but no Sarah.
What am I doing? Logan was her date, he wasn’t. He paced the hallway, his frustration building. This was all fucked up. He should have told Sarah how he felt. Instead he was waiting for her to come out of the bathroom—and to say what?
He turned to go back to the dining room but stopped in front of the glass door. Fresh air to clear his thoughts sounded good right about now. He was in no hurry to get back to the table.
Not with Sarah sitting across from him.
He pushed open the glass door but stopped dead in his tracks.
Sarah was in the parking lot, coat on, leaning against his BMW in what seemed to be a heated conversation with herself, her arms crossed.
Heart pounding, he pushed open the door and beelined straight for his car because enough was enough. There was something he needed to get out of his system—and from Sarah’s display at the table, out of hers, too.
…
“I cannot be jealous. I am not interested in Ryan Wright. Ryan is my friend. Nothing more,” Sarah muttered. “He’s on a date with someone else. I’m here with the man I want. The plan is going perfectly.”
She blew out a cold breath. How could this be happening? She was on a date with Logan—the dream date that she’d fantasized about for months, and not to forget, asked Ryan to help make a reality. Now, all she could do was sit quietly, watching Ryan with his date, wishing she were the one sitting next to him.
She shook her head. This was all Ryan’s fault. If they hadn’t kissed, she would have never known how incredible it was to taste his lips, never mind the amazing feeling of having his strong arms wrapped around her.
When Corrine started all her football double-entendre talk, it was all Sarah could do not to leap across the table and run a defensive interference play.
In that moment, she couldn’t help blurting something out to remind Ryan whose lips his had recently been on, which totally backfired because all it got her was a blank stare back. He either didn’t know what she was talking about, or worse, he did and didn’t want to show it in front of Corrine.
You need to stop this, Sarah. This isn’t the plan.
Tonight could be the beginning of a life with Logan if she would only march back into the restaurant, sit her butt down, and enjoy being his date.
But what would happen between Ryan and Corrine? Would he kiss her good night? Worse, would it go further?
Frustrated, she pushed off his car. Reaching inside her coat pocket for her phone, she decided to say that she’d gotten a call from her mother while she was in the restroom and needed to take it.
The restaurant door flew open, and Ryan stalked toward her, an unidentifiable look on his face that sent shivers scattering through her body. She gulped, and her heart pounded. “Hey, my mom called.” She held up her phone. “I was just going back insi—”
His mouth crashed down onto hers, his arms pinning her to his car. She responded immediately, latching on to his shirt and yanking him closer.
Ryan, not Logan. No matter what she told herself, that’s who she wanted tonight.
He traced the front edge of her dress, then slid his hand lower, cupping her breast. When his thumb flicked over her nipple, she moaned.
That woke her up. She pulled away, scanning the parking lot, expecting to have scandalized someone’s grandmother or the mayor or someone, but miraculously, she and Ryan were alone. Still…
“Inside,” she managed, finishing her sentence. “I was about to go inside.”
Ryan pulled her closer. “Not anymore. Call Logan and tell him you’re not feeling well, and I’m taking you home.” He gently sucked on her earlobe, causing her eyes to roll back.
For the love of God. If his tongue circling her ear could put her in this state of euphoria, how would the rest of her body respond? “What about your date?”
“She can have dinner with Logan.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He swept his lips over hers. “What I want isn’t on the menu.”
“But what about Monday?”
“What about Monday?” He nipped her upper lip.
“Is it going to be weird between us?” She kissed him again, not giving him a chance to say “yes.”
“Only if we let it.” He brought her in close, moving his hands down her back. “Stop asking questions and make the call.”
With shaky hands, she swiped and tapped her phone, holding it up to her other ear.
“Um…hey, Logan. It’s Sarah.”
“Sarah? Where are you?”
In seventh heaven. She closed her eyes and lifted her chin, giving Ryan’s mouth full access to her neck, “Um…I’m outside… I’m not feeling…” she started, trying not to sound like she wasn’t being ravished in the parking lot by Logan’s best friend. “Like myself.”
“I’m on my way to the front.”
“No!” Her head straightened. “I mean… I don’t want you to see me like this. Ryan’s here. He’s going to take me home. I know how much you love this restaurant. Stay and have dinner with Corrine. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she managed to get out as Ryan reached inside her coat, running his hand slowly up her side. “Enjoy your dinner,” she added feebly before ending the call.
It was official. She was a horrible person, but as Ryan pulled her in for another toe-curling kiss, she didn’t care.
“I’m not sorry that we’re leaving,” he said as if reading her mind. He reached down, gently brushing her bangs to the side, his fingers lingering in her hair. “Your hair is so sexy.”
“Is this what this is about?” She lowered her lashes. “You’re turned on by my blowout?”
“Maybe.” His mouth curled up in a wicked smirk, while he traced a finger across her lips. “And other parts of you that I need to explore.”
That did it. “Your place.” She gasped. “Now.”