Authors: Angela Verdenius
“Except one word.”
About to give a sharp retort, Ryder stopped then slowly closed his mouth again. Lips tight, he stared out into the night-darkened garden.
Damn it, he wasn’t good with emotions and shit like that. He’d never had to tell a woman a lie just to get her into his bed. Never had to promise them everything, never had to put himself out much at all, not when he had so many pretty women of all shapes and sizes just waiting to fall into his arms and into his bed. He’d never had to do much than give them a bawdy wink and wicked grin, be his usual charming self with a whole lot of lusty honesty and openly sexual intentions, flirt and dance, laugh and seduce - and even that without much effort - and he had a woman in his bed more often than not. He had sex because he liked it, dated because he enjoyed a woman’s company, danced because he liked dancing, was friendly because that was his nature.
“Shit.” He rubbed his eyes.
Simon just kept sipping at his coffee.
“Look, how can I be like that with Dee? She’ll think I’m treating her like the other women.”
“Ryder, you idiot, if you don’t act like yourself around her, she’ll know it’s a pretence. How do you think that’ll go with her?”
“I can’t treat her like the others. She’s not like the others.”
“Dee knows you. Be yourself.”
“Like that’s done the job so far.” Grumpily, Ryder slouched lower in the chair.
“It’s done the job just fine. She loves you, you already have her heart. She just needs to know that you have the staying power.”
‘Staying power? Man, in the sack I can go for hours.”
“Oh my God, I think my ear drums just burst.”
“You mentioned the staying power.”
“You have sex on the brain.”
“She knows that, too. Can I point out that in the sack she can’t fault me?”
“Your humbleness is admirable.”
“I’m just saying.”
“The staying power I’m talking about, dickhead, is you being there all the time.”
“I don’t think she’ll let me move in yet.” Ryder laughed when Simon groaned.
Man, he couldn’t help stirring up his laid-back friend now and again regardless of the circumstances. It sure helped Ryder relax a little. Growing serious once more, he added, “So you reckon I should be myself, do what I’d normally do?”
“Yeah,” Simon agreed. “But there’s a difference.”
Ryder might be a little clueless when it came to winning a woman’s heart forever, but he wasn’t that dumb that he didn’t get what his friend was saying. “Because I’m doing it with Dee.”
“Exactly. What you do with others isn’t the same. You don’t do it with the same heart.”
“Listen to the wise old owl.” Ryder grinned at Simon to find him staring out into the darkness.
For the first time since he’d met him, there was a slight sadness in Simon’s face, a barely discernable melancholy. It was surprising and a little disturbing. “Mate, you all right?”
The lazy smile was back on Simon’s face, the melancholy disappearing instantly as though it had never appeared. “Sure. I’m not the one tied up in knots.”
Dropping his feet from the rail, Ryder leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all.” Simon drained the last of the coffee. “That was good. So, your plan is to be yourself.”
Taking the hint, Ryder stopped probing and nodded. “Plan done. Sorted.”
“So not a plan, just you being yourself and proving to Dee that you more than ‘just care’ for her.” Air quotes.
“Yeah.”
“She’s more than ‘just Dee’.” Air quotes.
“Stop that or I’ll break your fingers.
Simon didn’t bat an eyelid. “And you love her.”
“You just had to slip that word in, didn’t you?”
“What? And?”
“Love. You had to do it.”
“Well, shit, man, you weren’t.”
Ryder flipped him the bird.
Laughing, Simon dropped his booted feet to the veranda floor and stood, stretching indolently.
“Want another cuppa?” Ryder queried.
“Nah, I better make tracks. Work tomorrow.” Simon picked up the motorbike helmet. “DVD night next Friday at my place, don’t forget. Scott and Ash are on the dinner run, Kirk and Molly the DVD run.”
“I’ll be there.” Ryder grinned as he stood. “Make sure no one sits between me and Dee.”
“Jesus, I’m not your love helper.”
They both paused.
“You know how wrong that sounds on so many different levels, right?” Ryder asked.
“I get it.”
“If I swung that way, your red hair might turn me on, the freckles, even your reading glasses. However, I’m into the sheilas.”
“Your inability to say the word ‘love’ would turn me off anyway.”
Ryder flipped him two fingers.
“Oh yeah, because that really hurts.” Grinning, Simon sauntered down the steps. “Righto, I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.”
Gathering the mugs, Ryder went inside, rinsing them out in the sink before turning off the lights and heading for bed.
He looked at Jezebel sprawled out near his pillow. The doona was scruffed up on his side. Jezebel fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“Don’t you even think it.” He pointed a finger at her. “You’ve actually gone from the centre of the bed to
my
side. We’re setting boundaries, girl, right now. That,” he pointed to the empty kittening box next to the wall, “is for you. This,” he pointed to the bed, “is for me. Understand?”
With a little sigh, she dropped her head onto the bed.
“Don’t play the long-suffering sheila with me.” Crossing to the bed, he picked her up carefully and carried her to the box, gently placing her into it and stroking her head. “Your birthing box. This is where you go when those furry little parasites inside you decide to come out. You have them in here, not on my bed, never mind my side of it.” He gave her an encouraging pat. “See? It’s not too bad, right? I changed the blanket for a sheet, and now you have a throw rug Mum knitted for me years ago. She’d have a fit if she saw you lying on it in the birthing box, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.” A thought struck him. “Jesus, you and Dee. I’m trying to keep you both happy. This is enough to do any red-blooded man’s head in.”
Jezebel sniffed the throw rug, kneaded it a little and looked sadly up at him.
Hardening his heart, he straightened. “Don’t look at me like that. This is for your own good and my sanity. It’s only for a short time, Jez.”
Feeling like a real shit, he stripped his clothes off and slung them over a chair. Folding the doona back, he slid between the sheets and turned off the bedside lamp.
Rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes. Right, he had a plan to win Dee, he just had to have the patience. It would all work out. It had to. He couldn’t contemplate a future without her, he just wouldn’t, it wasn’t in his plan. True, he’d never really thought of a future without Dee in it somewhere, she was apart of his life, she was his friend, they’d always had a connection, but now he wanted more than just friendship. He wanted her in his life, in his bed, in his house. Cooking in his kitchen, snuggling up to him on the sofa.
Granted, he’d have to take her smart-mouth as well, but that was no hardship. He liked it. He loved her dry wit, her sarcasm, her sharpness. Just as he loved that soft body, those generous curves, all that lushness to sink into and explore. And man, those soft, plump lips, he could imagine them wrapped around his shaft, that little tongue flicking up his abdomen…
God yes.
Shit, now he was getting a boner.
Think of something else, quick
.
Okay, at least he’d finally won with Jezebel, that was something. She was snug in her box on the floor and - crap.
A bounce on the bed, a heavy landing, a padding up his legs and Jezebel nudged under his arm. With a sigh, he slung his arm around her, the little cat’s purring filling the room as she curled up next to him.
Great. Just great.
Bent over, Dee slipped her hand beneath the strap holding the newspapers together, only to give a startled cry when a broad palm firmly smacked her backside, she was nudged out of the way by a lean hip, and Ryder picked up the bundle.
“What the hell?” She stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“You’ll bust your stitches.” He walked into the shop.
Oh for
- She scowled. “Ryder-”
“Not listening, babe.” He strode back out, grabbed another bundle and disappeared back into the shop.
Well, good for him.
Annoyed, Dee grabbed the remaining bundle of magazines and started to lift them.
This time the smack on her backside wasn’t as light as previously, causing her to jerk upright and drop the bundle. Literally. “Bloody hell, Ryder!”
“Do as you’re told.” He grabbed the last bundle and took them into the shop.
Dee was right on his heels, her backside tingling from his hand hitting it and her girlie parts from a perverted thrill. However, thrill or not, she had never accepted being told what to do, especially with her own business.
“Look,” she began hotly as he turned around.
One eyebrow arched, he looked down at her. Hands on his hips, broad chest clad in only a thin tank top, running shorts showing off his muscular legs to perfection and sneakers. He smelled of male sweat from his run and a faint hint of soap. His thick hair was tousled, the rebellious dark lock falling across his brow adding to his roguish appeal. “Yeah?”
Forget the roguish appeal
. “Don’t come in here telling me what to do!”
Grabbing the bottom of his tank top, he pulled it up to wipe a trickle of sweat from his shoulder. That revealed his impressive six pack.
It also had her knees wobbling because she remembered the feel of that six pack pressed against her naked belly. However, she had her pride so, flushed cheeks or not, she met his determined gaze with an equally determined one.
“One.” He leaned forward slightly. “You do not pick up bundles of magazines or newspapers or anything until those stitches are out. Two, while you have those stitches I will be here every morning to bring them in for-”
“Not happening.” The man might want to make her lick him like an icy pole, but he had a bloody nerve.
“You will not touch the bundles. You will take care of those stitches.” He leaned further down, a hard glint in his eyes. “You will do as you’re told in this regard.”
“Up yours.”
“Nasty mouth you have when I’m only trying to help.”
“Bullshit. You’re trying to tell me what to do and I don’t take that crap.”
“Fine, get all shitty about it, but you’ll do as I tell you in regards to this.”
Freakin’ nerve! “Or what?”
“Or I’ll take care of you.”
“Oh, I rather thought that was what you were doing grabbing the bundles off me.”
“Nope. My hand on your arse was taking care of your stubbornness. You dare to lift any bundles, babe, and I will take care of you so well you won’t sit down for a week.”
The flush of heat that went through her was a mix of outrage and delicious decadence. That only made her madder. “You’re getting mighty free with your hands, dumb arse.”
The glint in his eyes went from determined to hedonistic in a flash. His grin was slow and so wicked her toes practically curled in her sandals.
“And you can wipe that smile off your dial before I do it for you,” she added.
Reaching out leisurely, he grabbed her blouse and reeled her in. It was either allow it or have the buttons pop off, because sure as God made green apples Ryder wasn’t going to let go.
Right at that moment the bell above the door jingled. Dee glanced over her shoulder to see her brother, Vic, and the owner of the local café, Cheryl, standing in the doorway. Both of them had their avid gazes on her and Ryder.
Damn. Her cheeks flushed. “Be right with you.” Turning her head, she looked up at Ryder to see him gazing at the couple behind her.
The widening of his smile was warning enough that he was planning something, but combined with the way his gaze slid down to her and the hotness kindling in his eyes, she just knew he was going to do something that was going to be irreversible.
“Oh shit,” she said hurriedly. “Whatever you’re thinking, Ryder, don’t you-
mmph
!”
He jerked her right up against his chest, kept her there with his fist in her blouse, and kissed the ever-loving daylights out of her.
As her hands fluttered before grabbing wildly at him, his mouth crushed hers, his lips moulded to hers, his tongue simply demanded entrance and then he was kissing her hard and hot, so ravagingly erotic that all she could do was hang onto him and be blown away by the savage desire in his kiss.
She was still wallowing in debauched delight when he set her back, his fist still in her blouse as he grinned down at her, his eyes so hot with ardour it was as though they were backlit with a fire.
“See you later, babe,” he said huskily before stepping around her, the hard muscles of his arm brushing against her softer arm, leaving the lingering heat of his body on her skin.
She was still trying to get her addled wits about her when she heard him greet Vic.
“G’day, mate.”
“G’day, Ryder.”
“Cheryl.”
“Hello, Ryder.”
The door bell jingled and he was gone.
No one said a word.
Several thoughts flew through her mind as she finally sucked in a deep breath without sucking in his scent and addling her brains further.
Shit. Vic and Cheryl saw it all. The talk will be all over town. What do I do? Do I kill Vic? Do I threaten Cheryl? The back lot’s too hard to bury them both quickly. Shit shit shit! Now what?
Vic coughed. Not politely, either. It was a big, rasping, very telling cough.
Taking another deep breath, Dee pasted a pleasant expression on her face and walked around the counter, coming to a stop to look politely at both customers. “Who was first?”
“Probably you, going by your reaction seconds ago,” Vic replied. “Ryder looked a whole lot more in control.”
The bastard. She was going to kill and bury her brother out in the back lot after all.
Teeth gritted, she looked him right in the eyes. “Do you want your newspaper?”
“Why? Are you threatening to withhold it because I saw you with your tongue down the local paramedic’s throat? Oh, wait.” Vic held up a finger, his eyes sparkling with glee. “Maybe he was teaching you the latest CPR technique?”
“Maybe I’ll teach you how morons get feet wedged up their arseholes.”
“Oh my. Are you blushing, Dee?”
“No, I’m going red with fury. If you’re not going to buy a paper then get out of my shop.”
“I’m a customer. Customers are always right.” Vic smirked. “You kissed Ryder, Ryder kissed you, there’s some hokey-pokey going on.”
If he only knew. Three times.
If she kept grinding her teeth, she’d have none left by the end of the day.
Switching her gaze to Cheryl, Dee almost snapped, “What’ll it be?” remembered who she was talking to and hastily backtracked. “Sorry, Cheryl. What can I do for you?”
“Are you and Ryder finally an item?” Cheryl asked in delight.
“Oh God, n-”
“Looks like it, huh?” Vic happily slapped the local newspaper on the counter.
“I know.” Cheryl’s eyes shone. “Oh my, it’s been so long! We’ve all been waiting for you two to finally see sense!”
Good grief, this was getting out of hand. “We’re not-”
“The way Ryder kissed you.” Cheryl elbowed Vic. “Did you see it?”
“Couldn’t help but see it. I thought he was trying to take my sister’s blouse right off.” Vic’s expression changed. “Wait a minute.” Hs eyes narrowed. “Was he trying to get your blouse
off
?”
“What? No!”
“I think I better have a word with him.” Vic grabbed the newspaper off the counter, rolling it up as he walked out. “See what his intentions are.”
Crap on a stick! “Vic!” She ran out from behind the counter, bolted past Cheryl and pushed through the door, almost bowling over Jaci on the way. Seeing Vic already getting into his work ute, she ran up and grabbed the door, preventing him from shutting it. “You listen to me, Vic Miller!”
“Look, I’m your big brother and I have a responsibility to make sure you don’t get hurt.” He tried to shut the door.
She hung on grimly. “You stay away from Ryder and keep your nose out of our business.”
He frowned at her. “He’s a player, Dee. I won’t have him playing with you.”
Well, too bloody late for that, not that she was telling him. But he was determined. Once her brother got it into his thick head to start going all protective, he was hard to stop. However, she had ammunition and she wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Fine.” She let the door go, watching as he slammed it shut. “But you go to Ryder and I will tell our parents that you and Martha had sex on their table and that’s how Martha got up the duff.”
“What?” He went white, then red. “That’s a lie!”
“You wish. I have it on good authority.”
“Who’s?”
Dee arched a brow.
“Oh shit, Martha
told
you?” He was horrified.
“Caught her at a weak moment. And you know me, weak moments are my forte.” She leaned down to look at him through the open window and smirked. “You tell,
big brother
, and so do I.”
He glared at her for several seconds before barking out, “Fine! Whatever!” Starting the ute, he pointed a finger at her. “Don’t think you can use that blackmail twice.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s good to go for several more rounds yet.”
“You wouldn’t want to.” With that threat, he started to back out.
She knocked on the roof. “Wait up.
“What now?”
“You haven’t paid for that newspaper. I’m not running a freebie stand you know.”
He dug some money from his pocket and dropped it into her hand. “Here, keep the change.”
“Thanks.” She looked at the money. “Wow, a whole five cents. I’m putting it towards your birthday present.”
Annoyed, he backed out onto the street and drove off.
Relieved, she walked back into the newsagent, only to groan at the sight of Cheryl and Jaci. Cheryl still looked delighted and was cooing to Jaci that wasn’t it wonderful that Ryder and Dee were finally a couple.
Jaci looked like she wanted to cry.
Feeling like a heel, Dee said, “We’re not a couple.”
“Honey,” Cheryl said, “Ryder kissed you in your shop.”
“We’re friends.”
“Ryder doesn’t kiss friends like that.” With a giggle, Cheryl elbowed Jaci. “Isn’t that right, Jaci?”
“Right,” Jaci croaked.
Crap, this wasn’t going well. Bloody Ryder came in, made a statement, then waltzed off and left her to deal with the fall-out. Next time she saw him, she’d kick his very fine arse.
Wanting both of them out of her shop, Dee looked at Cheryl. “What can I do for you?”
Obviously noting the tone of finality in her voice, Cheryl placed the newspaper and a magazine on the counter. “Just these two.”
Dee silently rung the amount up, placed the articles into a paper bag, took the money from Cheryl and handed her the change.
Just as she pulled her hand away, Cheryl leaned forward to wink. “Good on you, Dee. You landed the man you should have had a long time ago.” Giving her hand a conspiratorial pat, Cheryl left.
Inwardly cringing, Dee looked at Jaci. Her mouth was tight but it was apparent she was upset. Shit. “Jaci, about Ryder-”
“No, I know.” Holding tight to her composure, Jaci placed several pens on the counter. “Ryder’s moved on. I just thought…” She sighed, shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”
Not knowing what to say, Dee rung up the pens. As she handed them back to Jaci, the woman’s eyes fastened on the dressing on Dee’s arm. “What happened?”
“Huh?” Dee glanced at the dressing. “Oh. Stitches.”
“What happened?”
“Fell over and cut myself on some broken pots out back.”
Jaci’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Yeah.” Glad to change the subject, Dee added, “Heard them breaking last night and went out for a look, but I slipped and fell on them. Had to go to the A & E for stitches.” Just the memory was enough to make her shiver.
“Do you know who did it?” Jaci asked worriedly`.
“No, but Kirk is looking into it.”
“The police? It’s that serious?”
“Serious enough, apparently. Vandalism for a start.”
“Did they find anything else?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”