Let Me Be the One

Chapter Four

In an effort to keep his hands to himself, Ryan grabbed a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge and handed her one. When both of them took a good long slug from their bottles, he got a couple more and put them near the boxes of food.

"Now that we're finally together again," she said, "I need you to fill me in on everything I've missed about your life."

Ryan had always been more comfortable coasting in the middle of a family full of loudmouths rather than talking about himself. "Life is good," he said, even as that faint sense of dissatisfaction tried to rear its ugly head.

He had everything. Maybe not as much as his brothers and sisters who were so in love and building new lives, but that didn't mean he had the right to sit around and complain.

"I'm still planning on playing baseball for as many years as my arm will let me, hanging with my family, enjoying my new niece." He pulled out his cell phone and showed Vicki the pictures of the baby he'd taken at the party. "Chase and his wife, Chloe, had Emma a few weeks ago." He couldn't have been happier for his brother, who had already practically taken more pictures of his daughter than he had throughout his entire career as a photographer. "Emma is amazing."

"She's beautiful, Ryan. Everyone must be over the moon about her."

"We are. I was at my mother's house with all of them when you texted."

"Oh no, I can't believe I pulled you away from your family."

"The party was winding down anyway." But he'd stayed because he didn't have anywhere else to be. He didn't have anyone to go home with or even a dog to feed. Used to be, he'd been glad for all that freedom. It was only recently that he'd started to feel as if he were waiting for something else. Something more. "And you know how glad I am that you asked me to come tonight."

"I'm not letting you off the hook that easily," she said to him, "but now that you've started, why don't you fill me in on the rest of your family? I thought I read about Marcus dating a pop star?"

"I never saw that one coming," he said about his oldest brother who owned Sullivan winery, "but Marcus and Nicola are a surprisingly good match even though she's quite a bit younger than he is. Pretty sure we'll be seeing another engagement in the family soon. Maybe by Christmas."

"Another engagement? How many have there been?"

"Gabe is marrying Megan this winter up in Lake Tahoe. Summer is her seven-year-old daughter and she's a total spitfire. He saved Megan and Summer when their apartment went up in flames earlier this year and his station got called into to fight it." At Vicki's horrified look, he let her know, "Everyone was fine. Gabe ended up in the hospital for a couple of days, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have wanted to miss that fire for anything. Actually, Summer's eighth birthday party is in a few days and I know they'd all love to see you if you want to come."

"Of course I would," she agreed with a smile, even as she marveled at the way Ryan was integrating her into his life without so much as blinking.

"Zach fell hard for his dog trainer and they're sickeningly happy now and heading to the altar at some point." He could still hardly believe how fast his brother, owner of Sullivan Autos, had fallen for Heather. "Only Naughty, Smith, and I are still single. You'll never believe who Nice ended up with." Normally, he wouldn't have used Lori and Sophie's nicknames, but Vicki knew his family well enough that she also used to call the twins Naughty and Nice when they were kids.

"Sophie's with Jake, isn't she?"

He stared at her in disbelief. Had she really thought his librarian sister and Irish Pub owning friend were a good match? "How did you know that?"

She shrugged as if it were completely obvious. "She had stars in her eyes every time she looked at him when we were kids. And he always went out of his way to steer clear of her. I'm glad he finally gave in and admitted his feelings for her."

Was Vicki trying to tell him something? Was this a sign that she wanted him to finally get up enough guts to make another move after that first pathetic attempt to kiss her had crashed and burned so hard back in high school?

But when he looked back at her, she was picking up a container of mu shu pork and focusing on pulling out the slivers of cabbage with her fork. Not exactly looking at him with lust in her eyes.

Feeling like an ass for even thinking about hitting on her, especially when it had barely been three hours since they'd reconnected in person after so many years apart on separate continents, he said, "Only problem was, he got her pregnant with twins before he admitted a damn thing to anyone. Including her. She's due soon."

"Twins. That's amazing. I'm so happy for them." She picked up the second bottle of beer and took another drink.

"Your turn," he said, his words a little hoarse from wanting so badly to press his lips against the pulse point in her neck she'd inadvertently bared to him when she'd tilted her head back.

"Well, you already know about my marriage and divorce," she said, brushing off a good ten years in less than a dozen words. But he could hear the pain behind every single one of them. "After spending the past year in Prague, I heard about this fellowship opportunity in San Francisco and here we are."

Ryan could tell she didn't want to talk about herself any more than he did, but he'd spent so long wondering about the guy who had been lucky enough to marry her - and then was stupid enough to lose her - that he had to probe deeper.

"Was the fact that your ex is also a sculptor part of the problem?"

"Talk about stars in your eyes," she said in a hard voice. "I was fresh out of art school and he was a legend." She put quotes around the word legend. She took another drink from her bottle as if she needed the liquid courage to talk about it at all. "I was so flattered that he was pursuing me, and he made my life such a crazy whirlwind, that before I knew it I was married. Until one day I realized I would be way happier being single than I ever had been when I was married. Good thing I was smart enough, at least, not to take his last name. I could never stand the idea of drafting off his success in any way, even if he thinks he taught me everything I know."

All of Ryan's protective instincts had already been roused tonight, and hearing the hurt vibrating in her voice as she talked about her ex ripped even deeper into him. Thank God he'd been there to protect her from James tonight, but she'd been all on her own with her ex-husband.

"Did he hurt you, Vicki?"

She shook her head, but wouldn't meet his eyes. "I made a big mistake with Anthony by focusing on him instead of moving my own career forward. I'm not going to be stupid enough to let a relationship sidetrack me again." She shrugged as though it was all just water under the bridge. "I'm fine, really. Chalk it up to being young and stupid."

"This is me you're talking to," he told her in an echo of what she'd said to him a few minutes earlier. "Just because we didn't see each other for too many years doesn't mean I didn't think about you all the time. I'm still your friend and you can still tell me anything."

"I know. It's just - " She licked her lips and took a breath. "I'm not trying to hide things from you, Ryan. Especially after what you did for me tonight. Ask me anything and I promise I'll answer. Better than I have so far."

Damn it, he didn't want to hurt her more by opening up old wounds. "Tell me about your sculptures. What are you working on right now?"

The relief on her face was palpable and even though he knew there was more to the story with her ex - way the hell more, and most of it likely to piss him off and make him want to hunt the guy down - Ryan was glad when the darkness left her eyes.

"I've been working on a piece called Overflow. I don't know if you remember, but I was always so inspired by water. How it feels. How it moves. The way light and color play off it."

Some of his favorite memories as a teenager were of the two of them going hiking out along the wetlands at night. No matter how cold it was outside, Vicki always had to put her hands in the water. He'd known just how much she'd love his view of the ocean, and he'd always hoped he'd get a chance to show it to her in person.

He scooted his chair back and reached for her hand to pull her off the bar stool and out the French doors in his living room. "Of course I remember. Which is why I'm taking you outside to catch the last of the sunset on the beach."

He grabbed a thick, oversized beach towel from a storage container on the deck and headed down the stairs after her. She'd kicked off her heels on the deck, and her bare feet and legs were gorgeous as she made her way down the staircase from his house to the beach below. When she got to the bottom, she gave a happy sigh.

"I love the feel of sand between my toes."

It was the most natural thing in the world to wrap his arms around her from behind. She was stiff for a moment, before she finally relaxed into him and leaned her head back against his chest.

"This is what I've been working on," she said softly. "I've been trying to sculpt water."

"Sounds amazing."

"More like crazy, but I can't stop wanting to do it anyway."

The wind blew the ends of her hair against his face and the sun was just falling behind the waterline. In that moment Ryan wanted her more than he ever had, with her soft curves in his arms, her passion for her art pulsing just as strong as her heart beating beneath his forearms.

"I can't wait to see it."

"It doesn't look like much yet. Just a bunch of blobs I'm hoping it will actually come together at the end. Cross your fingers for me, will you?"

He could feel her being pulled toward the ocean and said, "Go do it already. I know you're dying to get your hands into the water."

She laughed as she pulled him toward the surf. The wind blew her dress against her figure and he was pretty sure he'd embarrass both of them when she finally noticed the effect she was having on him.

"You're the only one who doesn't think I'm weird for doing this."

She hissed as she walked into the cold water, but it didn't stop her from bending down to put her hands into it.

Ryan had already taken off his shoes in the house, but he didn't bother rolling up his jeans before moving beside her and doing the same thing.

"I guess that makes both of us weird, then. Because I've done it ever since, you know."

It had been a way to remember her at first, but then he'd realized she was right: The water did feel different every single time.

She shot him a surprised look before looking down at his hands and saying, "Funny, I never really thought about the fact that both of us use our hands for our jobs."

Under the water, he reached for her and took her hand in his. Her eyes met his in surprise, but she didn't pull back. Instead, she closed her eyes and he knew she was taking in the way their connection changed how the water moved around both of them.

It was one of the best sunsets he'd ever seen, but Ryan couldn't tear his eyes away from Vicki. He stroked his thumb across her palm and she shivered.

Too soon, she slid her hand out of his.

"My hands and feet are numb already," was her excuse as she moved away from him to head for dry land.

He'd dropped the towel onto the sand when they'd arrived, and after she sat down on it, he sat behind her so that she could lean into his legs the way they had so many times before as teenagers, sitting out and watching the stars blink over the wetlands.

It had killed him to keep things platonic back then, but even though he was supposed to have more control as an adult than as a horny teenager, it was just the opposite.

"This is exactly what I needed." She turned her face to smile at him and he was a breath away from kissing her when she said, "Thank you for still being the one friend I can totally relax with."

It didn't take a genius to hear what she was telling him, loud and clear: I need you to be my friend, Ryan. Nothing else.

So despite how badly he wanted her, Ryan knew he would never forgive himself for being like all the other guys who had wanted something from her...and had taken it from her without thinking about anything but their own needs and desires.

She yawned and leaned back into him. "You know, I've never been much of a sleeper, but the last few nights were really bad with all those cockroaches at the motel waiting for me to fall asleep so that they could come out to feast on me."

Her words had grown fuzzier and fuzzier as she spoke and he wasn't surprised when, a few minutes later, she fell asleep in his arms. It was hugely tempting to stay like that with her, to listen to her soft breathing, to memorize the feel of her beautiful curves against him...and to pretend that she was more than a friend.

Biting back a curse, Ryan easily lifted her up to carry her to the guest bedroom. Her legs were soft and smooth against his arm where her dress hiked up, and the feel of her br**sts against his chest, her h*ps against his groin, made it difficult for him to think clearly.

Somehow he made it up the two flights of stairs without giving in to the urge to kiss her gorgeous lips, but he barely bit back a needy groan when she turned her face into his neck and he felt her warm breath against him.

He was breathing hard by the time he made it to the guest bedroom. Not because of her weight - he had a good foot in height on her - but because of the fight to control his arousal.

At last, he laid her down on the bed, her beautiful hair falling across the pillows as she immediately moved to curl up on her side.

Knowing he was going to spend the rest of the night wishing he could be there wrapped around her, Ryan barely trusted himself to stay in the bedroom with her for another minute, let alone touch her again to get her under the sheets so she wouldn't wake up cold.

But even as he was pulling back the covers and getting ready to slide her beneath them, he knew she wouldn't be comfortable sleeping in her form-fitting dress. It was going to have to come off...which meant he was going to have to stop being a jackass and remember how to be her friend.

One who just happened to want her like crazy.

Ryan was famous for his steady hands, and for the fact that nothing riled him. But tonight, just the thought of undressing Vicki had his hands shaking like a blade of grass in the breeze.

He thanked God that her zipper was on the side of the dress so he could reach it without having to touch her too much. As he slowly pulled it down, he was torn between wanting her to wake up and praying she'd stay asleep.

What would she think if she found him undressing her in the dark bedroom without her consent? Would she slap him and throw him out?

Or would she tell him to finish the job by taking off her underwear, too, and then invite him to press kisses to the skin he'd just uncovered?

By then the zipper was down, but he wasn't doing his control any favors by letting his mind wander into fantasyland when he still had the dress to slide off her incredible curves.

You can do this, Sullivan.

He'd learned early on, when the game stakes were high and it came down to him on the pitcher's mound, how to shut down everything but the one thing he needed to focus on: making enough good pitches to strike the batter out.

Tonight, that focus was entirely on getting out of the guest bedroom without kissing Vicki. Or stroking his hand over the curve of her breast. Or waking her up and begging her to let him make love to her.

Her dress was made of smooth fabric and it didn't take more than a couple of slow tugs on the hem to get it to slide off. His jaw dropped at the sight of her in a strapless bra and lace panties, both of them red. The bold color looked like fire licking across her pale skin.

He knew it was wrong to stare at her like this, while she was asleep and he was all but drooling. Knowing he still needed to get her under the covers, Ryan tried to get a grip, and swore he almost had it when she stirred slightly, just enough that he was utterly mesmerized by the way her br**sts moved beneath her bra.

Hard past the point of comfort - way past - he gave himself sixty seconds to get her under the covers and himself out of the room.

Steeling himself for the touch of her soft skin beneath his hands, he gently lifted her from the bed again before putting her back down on the sheet. And as long as he blocked out every ounce of sensation, if he didn't make the mistake of smelling her hair, or getting too close to her luscious mouth, he might be able to get out of the bedroom in one piece.

He had almost pulled his arms from her when she suddenly said his name in her sleep, pressed her lips to his neck, and tightened her hold on him as if she didn't want to him to leave.

Ryan went completely still, everywhere - apart from his erection, which was throbbing painfully against the zipper of his jeans. His hands started moving with a mind of their own down her back, over her hips. When she moved closer to him instead of farther away, he almost gave in to the need that hadn't just been eating at him from that first moment he'd seen her with James at the Pacific Union Club.

It had been eating at him since he was fifteen years old.

Ryan didn't just want Vicki anymore. He needed her. With a desperation he'd never felt before for anything or anyone but her.

Black and white turned into a dirty shade of gray as the urge grew bigger, stronger, and he teetered between right and wrong. And in the end, it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to gently lay Vicki back against the pillows and cover her with the sheets.

She trusted him, enough that she'd actually fallen asleep in his arms down on the beach. He'd never forgive himself if he selfishly took advantage of her sleepy vulnerability.

Especially when she'd just made it perfectly clear to him at dinner, and then again on the beach, that she needed him to be her friend.

And only her friend.

* * *

After leaving her alone and soft and perfect on the bed, instead of going to his bedroom where he knew he wouldn't sleep worth a damn with Vicki only a wall away, he headed for his home office and picked up the phone.

"Hey, Rafe, it's Ryan."

His cousin worked as a private detective in Seattle. Ryan always made sure Rafe had killer tickets when they played in the northwest.

"Need some pointers for the game tomorrow?" his cousin joked.

"Not tonight," Ryan replied.

Realizing he wasn't calling to shoot the breeze, Rafe said, "What's wrong? Is everyone in SF okay? Your mom doing all right?"

"They're all good. Great, actually. I'm calling for a friend of mine. I need you to dig up the dirt on one of her colleagues."

"Sure thing. What's the name?"

Ryan spelled it for him.

"I'll hand over any info as soon I get it," Rafe promised him.

A female voice sounded in the background and Ryan said, "Thanks for your help. You can hang up and roll back on top of her now." The phone went dead immediately, his cousin obviously eager to do just that.

Ryan pulled out some new endorsement contracts that could have waited. A few hours later, when he couldn't put off going to bed any longer, the situation was just as he'd figured it would be. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Vicki in her sexy red lace panties and strapless bra, reaching for him and pressing her lips against his.

At five a.m., he finally gave up and went to take a cold shower. One that wasn't even close to cold enough.