Chapter Eleven
After Sophie threw on a pair of shorts, she and Ryder got to work. They washed her car first, and Sophie had to admit she was having a great time. She’d always loved cars, attracted to the rev of the engine and the jerk of speed when she switched from one gear to another. Sometimes on Sundays, she’d head out of the city north toward Wisconsin, just to drive fast on the deserted back highways while the wind whipped through her hair. It was her private escape for when she needed to think and be quiet.
She also loved to baby her Porsche, a present to herself when she got promoted. And why not? She could be frivolous, she had no kids or mortgage to support. No one to depend on her.
She rarely got to wash her car because she lived in the city, so she took extreme pleasure in it now.
She glanced over at Ryder, spreading wax over her hood, his muscles glossy and glittering in the sun. She didn’t know why she’d told him about her plans to quit, plans she hadn’t even told her best friends. She’d been happy when he let it go and didn’t press for further information, even though the desire to probe had sat heavy in the way he’d studied her.
He circled over the creamy hood and she called out, “You’re doing it wrong again.” He wasn’t, but they’d fallen into a rhythm of antagonistic teasing as they worked to establish a relationship that didn’t include ripping each other’s clothes off.
He glanced up at her, that quirk on his lips. “I am not. Who’s the expert here? Me or you?”
“Me.” The word was sassy as she planted her hands on her hips.
Sophie had managed to learn a lot about Ryder over the course of the afternoon. She learned his mom and dad had a great marriage. That he loved his baby sisters. How he’d been recruited to work in Revival, that she suspected was half a story by the way he hurried through it. That Charlie was more than his boss, he was also a friend.
She also learned the only reason this house was for rent was because he planned on tearing it down next year and building one big house, which made her think he had plans for a family, although he hadn’t said as much.
She tried to picture some woman coming out onto the deck and calling him in for iced tea, or maybe washing the cars with him like she was doing. She envisioned Ryder’s future wife as her exact opposite, tall, lithe, and brunette. Maybe she’d bake cookies and wear an apron. Maybe she’d have gray-eyed little children tugging at her skirt.
Sophie immediately hated her.
Cloth still in hand, he straightened. “I wax my car weekly. How many times have you waxed yours?”
“Never.” She flipped her hair. “I’ve watched plenty of YouTube videos. I know what’s up.”
He laughed. “YouTube.”
“What’s wrong with that? They are very instructional and informational.”
“All right, then.” He tossed another cloth on the hood. “Get started, darlin’.”
“You don’t think I can do it, do you?”
“I have faith in you that you can rub circles.” He winked at her. “I just think it’s a lot more laborious than you believe.”
She walked over to stand next to him, picking up the soft cloth. He glanced down at her, and his expression darkened as their eyes met.
It had been like this too. That spark of chemistry was not easily contained, but they both seemed content to ignore it and work on the plan they’d laid out last night.
She jerked her attention away and got to work, slowly working the wax into the paint before wiping it away. Fifteen minutes later her arms ached in a way that told her she’d been slacking during her workouts.
She also found it boring.
She straightened. “You finish up, I’ll get started on hosing down your car.”
“Is that an order?” He smirked at her.
“Yes.” She tossed the cloth to him. It hit his stomach and fluttered to the ground. She swung on her heels and walked over to pick up the hose before turning back to him. “Get to it, boy.”
One dark brow slowly rose up his forehead. “And this has nothing to do with your biceps burning?”
She tilted her chin. “Of course not. I’m being efficient.”
His gaze dipped. “You don’t fool me one bit.”
That was part of the problem. She didn’t think she did, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be seen. She flashed him a smile and snapped her fingers. “Chop chop.”
He shook his head. “God, you’re a brat.”
“Uh-huh.” Without giving it another thought, she sprayed him with the hose.
He jerked as the icy water hit his skin. “Hey! What was that for?”
Sophie gave him her best wide-eyed, innocent “you can’t blame me because I’m too cute” face. “It was an accident.”
He narrowed his gaze. “You are a troublemaker, Sophie Kincaid. Pure and simple.”
She smiled, lifted the hose, and blasted him. “Oops. I slipped.”
He dropped the cloth he’d been using into the soapy water and came for her. Heart racing, she screamed, flung the hose, and ran across the yard.
She was fast, but he was faster and taller, and he caught her with ease, wrapping his arm around her waist and tackling her. They tumbled to the ground, and he shifted so he took the brunt of the impact with her on top of him before he flipped them both over so she was on the grass, trapped beneath him.
He growled. “You are going to pay for that.”
“I’m sorry!” she screeched, laughing. “I promise I’ll be good.”
His whole body covered hers, and it was fucking awesome.
He imprisoned her wrists in one hand and held them captive over her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true!”
“Liar.”
Then he started to tickle her, and she thrashed and squirmed and laughed hysterically, gasping out, “Ryder! Oh my God, stop.”
“No.” He dug his fingers into her ribs, and she bowed up and screamed.
“Stop, I’m sorry.” She giggled. Desperately trying to get away from him, she arched and his legs slid between hers, and all of a sudden she became acutely aware they were practically naked, and he was on top of her.
She felt his erection against her hip and stilled. All the laughter died away.
His hands stopped torturing her, curving around her rib cage. Both of them breathing heavy, their eyes met.
Everything turned on a dime.
He shifted, and his cock slid just where she wanted him.
“Oh,” she said on a small gasp.
He looked down at her mouth and whispered, “Are you going to be a good girl?”
“Yes.”
“I think you’re incapable of being good.”
Her breath caught. “You’re wrong.”
His hand slid down her body, cupping her hip.
She was trapped under him, and it clouded her brain and made her lose all reason. All their progress from the day evaporated in an instant.
His hips flexed, nudging her, and she bit back a moan. Unbidden, she pressed against him.
He sucked in a strangled sound. “Christ.”
She inhaled sharply.
A voice came from the opposite side of the yard. “Oh!! Shit. Sorry!”
Sophie jerked her attention away from Ryder to see Maddie standing there holding Lily, a huge smile across her face.
She looked from Ryder to Sophie and put a hand over her daughter’s eyes. “Don’t look, Lily, this is grown-up stuff.”
Ryder rolled off Sophie, who scrambled to her feet and smoothed down her hair, which had grass and dirt in it. “That . . . um . . . wasn’t what it looked like.”
Maddie laughed, shifting her redheaded little daughter to her opposite hip. “Say hi to Auntie Sophie, Lily.”
The baby chewed on her fist and looked at Sophie skeptically.
Sophie gestured toward the cars in the driveway. “We were just washing the car, I swear.”
Ryder came up next to Sophie. “We’re totally just friends.”
Maddie smiled and nodded. “No need to explain.”
“But—” Sophie began.
“Great,” Ryder said.
Maddie tilted her head. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and ask you to dinner.”
Sophie appreciated the offer, but she was worn out on people. All she wanted was to sit on the couch, eat takeout, and veg. Wait ... did Revival have takeout that delivered? She had no idea. She’d worry about that later.
She smiled. “Thanks, Mads, but I want to take it easy tonight. Big day and all that, plus it’s been a crazy weekend.”
“I get it. I figured, but since I was in the neighborhood I’d thought I’d drop by and ask.”
“Well, I love you, but all I want is to sit on my couch and watch Netflix.”
“Understood.” Maddie glanced a Ryder, a sly expression on her face. “Would you like to come?”
“I’ve got work to finish,” Ryder said, smooth and calm. As though they hadn’t been caught wrestling inappropriately on the ground.
“No worries,” Maddie said, her words breezy. She tucked a lock of flame-red hair behind her ear and grinned. “Make sure you call me after work to tell me how it went.”
“Will do.” Sophie figured that wasn’t all Maddie would want to hear about.
“Talk to you soon.” Maddie waved her daughter’s hand. “Say bye-bye, Lily.”
Lily shook her head.
Maddie laughed. “She’s a stubborn little thing.”
“Gee, I wonder where she gets that from,” Sophie said, dryly.
Maddie winked. “Her daddy, of course.” She waved and turned to walk away, calling out over her shoulder, “You two have fun.”
“Wait. No.” But the justifications were lost as Maddie disappeared into the front yard. Sophie whipped around to Ryder. “Now do you see what you did?”
Ryder folded his arms over his broad chest. “Darlin’, you rubbed your pussy against me.”
She slammed her hands on her hips. “I did not. You held me down and trapped me. I was trying to get away.”
“And getting turned on in the process.”
“As if,” she retorted, responding to the thrill of arguing with him. “Like you’re all pure and innocent. I swear, how do you walk around with that thing?”
He laughed. “You do know how to make a man feel good.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.” So he had a huge cock. Whatever.
“That’s why you were all hot and needy, ’cause it was so awful. I get it.”
“You are so full of yourself.”
He inched forward. He leaned down, and she could almost feel his lips on hers. He shrugged. “Fair enough.”
She was going to punch him in the face. But instead she said calmly, “Good. We’ve got that cleared up. By the way, does Revival have delivery?”
He chuckled. “No.”
She looked at him in horror. “What am I supposed to eat?”
“There’s a grocery store, you could try that.”
She huffed. “You want me to go to the grocery store? On a Sunday night ... and cook?”
He nodded. “It’s an option.”
“God, this town is the worst.” She huffed and stomped away to the sound of his laughter following her all the way in.
* * *
Two hours later, after she’d showered and put on her most comfortable gray cotton shorts and a red tank top, she stared at her empty refrigerator and cursed Revival. She hadn’t even thought about food. Why would she? In Chicago if she wanted to eat and she didn’t have anything at home she just ordered takeout, regardless of the time.
She supposed she could do the unthinkable and run to the grocery store as Ryder suggested, but that would require at least putting on a bra, and how horrible did that sound? She sighed and closed her fridge. If she wanted to eat, that’s what she needed to do.
She glanced at the counter. Ajar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread sat there. Well, her options were clear—peanut butter and the couch, or a bra and the grocery store.
It wasn’t really a contest.
She opened her silverware drawer and pulled out a knife, grabbed a paper plate, and returned to her meager dinner. She untied the loaf of bread when the doorbell rang.
There were only two people it could be—Maddie or Ryder—and since her best friend assumed she was already with Ryder and not to be disturbed, it could only be him.
She put down the knife, affixed a feigned indignant expression on her face, and went to the door.
He stood there, wearing gray cargo shorts and a white T-shirt and holding a bag.
She leaned against the door frame and eyed the brown sack. “What’s that?”
He held it out, giving her that wicked grin. “Takeout.”
Her pretend indignation fell away and she squealed in excitement and clapped. “You’re a god among men.”
He laughed and pushed toward her. “I hear that all the time.”
How could she resist a man that brought food? She was only a mere mortal.
“Stop bragging.” She snatched the bag and stood aside as he entered the house.
He peered at her newly decorated living room and shook his head. “You’re such a girl.”
She’d decided on distressed white cottage-type furniture accented with light blues and deep grays. She laughed. “Isn’t it awesome?”
“I’m afraid to sit on the couch.”
It was the color of dove’s wings, slouchy and super comfortable. She clucked. “Don’t be such a pussy.”
He jerked his head to glare at her. “Good God, you’re sassy.”
She grinned. “Yeah? So?”
“So nothing.” He skimmed down her body and sighed. “Again with no bra?”
“In fairness, you arrived uninvited, and what I do in the privacy of my own home is my business.”
“True. But still. Have pity on me.”
“What fun would that be?” She swung around and called out, “I’ll get the plates and silverware. Start setting up on the coffee table.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His tone was full of sarcasm.
As she walked away he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “bossy little thing.” She smiled. She’d think about how much she liked him later.
She got to her kitchen and called out, “Oh no, I don’t have anything to drink.”
A second later he called back, “I got you wine, darlin’.”
She was starting to believe Ryder Moore was too good to be true. She returned to the living room holding napkins, paper plates, and silverware. “What’d you bring?”
“Italian. I didn’t know what you’d like so I ordered a bunch of different things.” He pointed to the now-open containers. There was bruschetta, a salad, calamari, and three different kinds of pasta. “I’m not picky, I’ll eat whatever you don’t or we can share.”
Suddenly his thoughtfulness overwhelmed her. It filled her chest, expanded, and made pleasure bloom across her skin. It was unexpected and rare. No one had ever taken care of her. Even as a kid she’d fended for herself. She blinked and met his eyes. “Thank you.”
He gave her that killer smile. “You’re welcome.”
She sat down next to him, putting the stuff she carried on the now-crowded table. Their knees brushed together, skin to skin, and it was like an electric shock.
He picked up the bottle of wine and poured it into two glasses before handing her one. “I assume you don’t have much of a hangover.”
“Not anymore.” She took a sip and glanced at the TV. “What should we watch?”
She didn’t ask if he was staying. It was already clear he was, and that was exactly what she wanted.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun with anyone, and despite their unfortunate chemical reaction to each other, she liked being around him. She just needed to not wrestle with him again. She picked up the remote and turned it on.
“Anything but Say Yes to the Dress or Real Housewives,” he said.
She grinned at him. “Sisters?”
He rolled his eyes. “Sisters.”
“Have you seen Making a Murderer?”
He shook his head. “What’s that?”
She furrowed her brow. “Huge hit on Netflix?”
His gaze dipped to her lips. “I don’t have Netflix.”
She gaped at him in horror. “Why? Are you living under a rock?”
“I don’t watch much TV.”
“Don’t be insane.”
“The only thing I have is HBO so I can watch Game of Thrones.”
“At least I know you’re not completely a lost cause.” Sophie started pressing buttons. “It’s a true crime documentary, you’ll like it.”
“If you say so.” He picked up a plate. “What do you want?”
“Everything. I love food and I’m starving.”
He shook his head.
“What?”
He scooped a little bit of everything onto her plate. “I love a girl who likes to eat.”
“Then, Ryder Moore, you have met your match.”
The words were flippant, but as soon as they left her mouth there was a stilling. An awkwardness that filled the air and spoke what neither of them dared to say.
That maybe he had, and that maybe she had too.
She saw now that she’d been wrong about him. He wasn’t bad, not really; he was fun and made her think risky things, but he was a good man.
Not only had he’d brought her dinner, but he’d taken care of everything. In her vast dating experience, she’d learned most men half-assed things, wanting her to do most of the work and planning. They called for a date and immediately left the plans up to her by asking so many questions she ended up with all the decisions in her lap.
But Ryder had taken care of everything. He’d done all the work for her.
She’d been right to think him dangerous.
Only now she realized it was for all the wrong reasons.
* * *
Well now, wasn’t this surreal?
If anyone had told Ryder he’d be in this situation four days ago, he’d have told them they were crazy. But here he was, stomach full, wine consumed, and sitting on Sophie’s couch.
Dinner was long over, they’d drunk two bottles of wine, cleared the table, laughed, talked, and now they were sitting on her couch, three episodes into Making a Murderer.
He was mildly buzzed as he suspected Sophie was too, considering how she lazily took up most of the couch. He was more than a foot taller than her and scrunched into the corner.
Neither had acknowledged how they’d ended up here, ignoring the scene in the yard as though it had been an aberration.
“Oh my God!” Sophie yelled at the TV before she turned to him, gesturing wildly. “Can you believe this? You’re in law enforcement. Explain how this is possible?”
Ryder figured if he had Sophie around to watch TV with all the time, he’d spend a lot more time watching. She was fun as hell. She yelled obscenities at the screen. Had arguments with the characters, bossed them around, and let out huffs of exasperation.
He could watch her all day.
She scowled, her expression fierce. “Well?”
He raised a brow. “Are you really asking? Or do you have an opinion formed and are not interested in changing your mind?”
She kicked him in the thigh. “Of course I’m not going to change my mind.”
He laughed and shook his head. It was a good thing, because he had no fucking clue what was going on in the documentary. He’d been too busy watching her, studying her to pay attention.
He gestured toward her. “Sophie, how can one small person take up the entire couch?”
She flashed him a grin. “Aren’t you comfortable?”
“I could be more comfortable.”
She clucked her tongue. “Poor baby.”
He rolled his eyes. “If you were any kind of hostess you’d make room for me. I did buy you dinner after all.”
“Because I’m awesome.”
He laughed. “Yeah, kind of.”
“No kind of about it.”
He flashed a smile, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “You could let me stretch out too.”
She stared at him for a good ten seconds before she said slowly, “I could.”
Their eyes met and he shook his head. “But you shouldn’t.”
She bit her lip and her foot brushed his thigh. “No, I shouldn’t.”
Transfixed by her, he encircled her ankle, stroking over the bone. “A horrible idea.”
“Worst idea on the planet.” Her tone was breathless now.
He took in her tumbled, messy hair, skimpy clothes, and tanned skin and questioned his sanity.
Time to back away. He released his hold on her. “Agreed.”
A frown fluttered over her lips for a flash of an instant before she pushed back up in a seated position. She glanced back at the TV. “Ryder?”
“Yes, Sophie?”
“Thank you for today. This is a big transition for me, and you made it fun.” She cleared her throat. “I appreciate it.”
A pretty blush spread across her cheeks, and his chest gave a hard thump. He’d never seen her blush before. He’d seen her flushed with passion but not from embarrassment. “You’re welcome. It was a good day.”
She nodded. “It was.”
He put his arm on the back of the sofa to keep from reaching for her. “Ignored everything I was supposed to do today.”
“Me too.” Her teeth slid over her bottom lip.
“Sophie?”
She glanced at him. “Yes?”
“It was worth it.”
Their eyes met.
Lust thickened the air, filling up all the space and demanding attention. It was so fucking hot between them, simmering right under the surface, ready to come to a boil.
Neither looked away.
Her breath quickened.
His did the same.
She jerked her attention away, swinging her legs off the couch and standing up. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Okay.”
She hurried to the back of the house, and a second later a door slammed shut.
He turned back to the TV, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees before dragging a hand through his hair. He muttered under his breath, “Christ.”
Okay, when she came back in he’d get his ass up and go home. It had been a great day, but it was time for it to end. They’d made a lot of progress today. They were on the right track. They just needed to stick with it.
The bathroom door opened and she made her way back to the living room. He forced himself off the couch. “I should probably go.”
She nodded. “Probably, early day tomorrow.”
She brushed past him and he followed, keeping his gaze off her little shorts. When they got to the front door, an awkwardness settled between them.
“Thanks again,” she said, not looking at him.
“It was my pleasure.” He put his hand on the handle.
She smiled, her attention darting toward the door. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Neither moved.
Her tongue swept over her lips. She fussed with her hair, her movements agitated before her hands settled back to her sides.
He needed to twist the handle and walk away. Instead he said, “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
He wasn’t quite sure what happened next. One second he was turning the knob, and the next he had her pinned to the wall, almost surprised to find himself there.
She let out an oomph, and then a moan.
He didn’t think, he just acted, covering her mouth with his.
She threw her arms around his neck, her lips as desperate and wanting as he felt. He groaned and she answered in response. The heat that had been driving him crazy kicked up another notch.
The kiss grew wetter, more insistent. Demanding and consuming.
Body tight with desire, he devoured her as she squirmed against him.
He shoved her harder against the wall, trapping her.
Her legs parted and he slid between them, lifting her legs to wrap around him.
She arched.
He surged.
Breathing hard. They rocked, hips urgent and questing. He needed to stop, but she was just so damn hot. So damn perfect.
She gripped his hips, digging her nails into his shoulders.
He grunted.
She moaned, the sound vibrating on their lips.
Their kiss turned ruthless.
His tongue invaded and captured her.
Desire pounded in his blood.
It was too much, spiraling out of control faster than he could think. Perched on the very edge of arousal, he couldn’t clear his head.
He shifted and his cock thrust in the most torturous way. She whimpered against his mouth and clutched him with her thighs to hold him there.
Her nails dug into his back as he ground against her.
The air turned humid, hot and sticky with sex and lust.
She gripped him tighter, their breathing coming so fast it was hard to maintain the press of their mouths. Panting against each other, full of tongue and teeth.
He was out of control, consumed by the rush of mad, fucking crazy lust. He needed to stop. Right now.
He pressed one more hungry kiss against her lips, growling low in his throat before forcing himself to pull away. Expending more willpower than he had in his entire life, he gentled his hold, putting his hands on her thighs before he whispered, “I should go.”
She blinked open glassy eyes, and slowly her legs slid from his waist. “Yes.”
He stepped away, gaze snagging on her swollen lips. “Sleep well.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You too.”
This time he didn’t hesitate.