A Wedding for Christmas Page 18

  If he felt like a snake belly before, he sank two rungs lower. She’d skipped out on her job because she didn’t want to see him. Cursing himself under his breath, he whipped out his cell phone.

  “In the meantime,” Jana said, and shoved a large plastic garbage can at him, “Katie said to put you to work clearing out your old bedroom.”

  “Hang on a minute.” He held up on finger while he dialed Katie’s number. Would she answer? He held his breath.

  It rang once. Twice. Three times.

  Ryder wasn’t particularly good at groveling, in fact, he couldn’t remember a time he had actually groveled, but he was going to grovel now. Just when he thought the call was going to go to voice mail, he heard Katie pick up. Thank you, he sent a silent prayer up to the heavens. Now was his chance to redeem his sorry ass.

  “Yes, neuter him,” she hollered.

  “What?” Ryder exclaimed, feeling his balls draw up tight against his body.

  “Not you,” she said. “I was talking to Sam.”

  “Your brother?”

  “You know any other vets from Twilight named Sam?”

  “Um . . . no. But I don’t know all the vets in Twilight.”

  “There you go.”

  Confused, he stabbed fingers through his hair. “There I go where?”

  “Did you need something?” she asked.

  “You’re not here.”

  “Here where?”

  “The Circle S. You’re supposed to be here.”

  “No, I’m supposed to be here. My assistant, Jana, is there in my place.”

  “I’m beginning to feel like Abbott in ‘Who’s on First,’” Ryder mumbled. “Or was it Costello?”

  “Where’s the confusion? You’re there and I’m here.”

  “Yes, but why are you there and not here?”

  “I’m here, you’re there.”

  “Okay, let’s forget the here and there stuff, and get down to brass tacks. Come to the ranch. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m an idiot. Please forgive me, and come back to work.”

  Katie laughed. “You’re an idiot all right. Get over yourself, Mr. Ego. You are not the reason why I took the day off.”

  “The hangover excuse isn’t cutting it. I upset you and I know it. We need to talk, Katie. Face to face. Sort this out.”

  “I found a stray cat in my backyard,” she said. “He needed medical attention, so I brought him over to see Sam. Sam’s gonna neuter him, and I want to be here when he comes out of anesthesia.”

  “You’re keeping the cat?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s something or you wouldn’t have said huh.”

  “I don’t see you as a pet person,” Ryder explained.

  “Why does everyone keep saying that? I love pets.”

  “You love cleanliness and order more.”

  “I’m adaptable. Some things are worth sacrifice. The cat is worth putting up with kitty litter and hairballs. Sheesh. Give me some credit. First you think I’m a big crybaby because you don’t have feelings for me, and now you think I shouldn’t have a cat because they make messes.”

  “Katie.”

  “Yes?”

  “I do.”

  “Do what?”

  “Have feelings for you,” he mumbled.

  She caught her breath. “What?”

  “I have feelings for you,” he said, raising his voice.

  Wait? What? Really? Her heart crashed drunkenly through her chest. “That’s not what you told Joe.”

  “I lied to your brother, because he’s your brother and my best friend, and lusting after you felt wrong and because . . .”

  “What?” she prompted when he couldn’t continue.

  “We need to do this face-to-face. This is not a conversation for the phone.”

  “You called me.”

  “I need to see you.”

  A long silence passed. Ryder was aware of Jana still standing there with the oversized garbage can, staring at him hard and listening intently to his side of the conversation.

  “I’ll be at the ranch tomorrow. The conversation will keep until then. In the meantime, Jana is in charge, do whatever she says.”

  “Katie, I—” He started to argue.

  But she had already hung up.

  Chapter 17

  Katie picked Harry up from Sam’s office that afternoon, and took her groggy new roommate home.

  “Okay,” she told Harry once she got him settled in on a pillow. “Here’s the deal. You didn’t catch me on my best day. I’m feeling a little sorry for myself, but I promise you my pity parties are always short-lived. I’m going to eat some ice cream and watch a silly movie. You can lie on the couch with me while you recover.”

  Harry swished his tail as if that was okay by him.

  She took a pint of cherry cheesecake ice cream from the fridge—the stash she normally kept to satisfy her that-time-of-the-month cravings—and turned on a frivolous comedy on Netflix, making sure it was not a romantic comedy. She was not in the mood to watch people fall in love. She wanted jokes and pranks and pratfalls, and lots of them. Harry crawled up in her lap to sleep and purr contentedly.

  Life was good. Who needed men? She had movies, a cat, and ice cream. What more could she ask for? She would worry about Ryder tomorrow. After she had a good night’s sleep and woke with a clear head.

  Just as the closing credits scrolled across the screen, a knock sounded on the front door.

  Taking care to ease the freshly neutered cat from her lap back to his pillow, she apparently didn’t get to the door fast enough, because the impatient caller knocked again with a rat-a-tat staccato.

  “Hold those horses,” she muttered.

  She yanked opened the door to find Ryder standing on her front porch, a big brown paper bag from Froggy’s in his hands, looking frazzled, but still incredibly delicious. His motorcycle was parked in the driveway. She’d been so busy laughing at the comedy she hadn’t heard him drive up. She wasn’t forewarned, nor was she prepared for the sight of him at her doorstep.

  Oh Lord, she was in trouble.

  The sleeves of his red plaid Western shirt were rolled up, and the top two buttons were undone, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of his tanned chest. He was disheveled—hair mussed, beard stubble ringing his jaw, clothes rumpled.

  Her heart sloshed because she was so damn happy to see him. Wow, she was pathetic or what?

  “Is that fried chicken?” she asked, because it seemed the most sensible thing to focus on.

  “Straight from Froggy’s.” He offered her his charming bad-boy grin.

  “Get in here.” She grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him inside, but not before she darted a quick glance up and down the street to see if any tongue-wagging neighbor gossips were outside watching, or peeking around curtains.

  “Scared Gladys Kravitz is going to see us together, and spill the beans?” he teased.

  “You know the grapevine in this town has eyes and ears all over the place.”

  “I do. I’ve been a victim of vicious slander a time or three, yes.”

  “It’s not slander if it’s true,” she said.

  “Touché.” His grin grew more disarming. If that grin was an industrial-strength vacuum, she’d be buck naked right now, completely suctioned of all her clothes.

  “So you’ll put your motorcycle in the garage?”

  “Won’t that look worse? Like you’re hiding me from view. Like you’re ashamed of me. Are you ashamed of me, Katie?”

  The sound of her name on his tongue set her lips to tingling. Terrific. She couldn’t be in the same room with him without tingling, shivering.

  “Right.” She pressed her palm to her forehead. “Good point. Why do you have to have the same vehicle you had when you were seventeen? Everyone in town knows that Harley.”

  “For one thing, I love her.”

  Yeah, he l
oved his motorcycle, heart and soul. Why not her? Maybe if she made noises like an ironhead engine he’d have feelings for her. Vroom. Vroom.

  “For another thing . . .” His voice deepened along with the look in his eyes. “I don’t commit to many things, but when I’m committed, I’m all in.”

  “I see.” She gulped.

  “Relax about the gossips,” he said. “I have reason to be here. We’re in a wedding together, remember? Your brother is my best friend. We have things to discuss.”

  “They’ll ponder why we couldn’t discuss those things over the phone. To make me feel better about it, could you go put the Harley in the garage?”

  “Why do you care what they think?”

  “Because it will get back to my mom and that’s a conversation I do not want to have.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can hear it now. Yes, Mom, I boinked the bad boy you took into our home. Yes siree, I’m doing it with my foster brother. Proud of me, Mom?”

  “ ‘Doing’?” he said. “Don’t you mean ‘did’? It was only the one time, Miss Priss. Just the way you wanted it.”

  “Well, technically it was three times.” She skimmed over her Freudian slip. “During that one night.”

  “Does that make it better or worse?”

  “The chicken smells really good,” she said, hoping to hijack the topic and fly it to the food.

  “Looks like you’ve already eaten,” he said, staring at the ice cream carton in her hand.

  “Oh that.” She thrust the carton behind her back, having forgotten she was still holding it. “I thought I would eat dessert first tonight.”

  “That does not sound like the rule-following Katie I know.” He stepped closer.

  “No?” She didn’t back up, kept standing there clutching the ice cream carton like it could save her life.

  “But that’s not the first time you’ve surprised me. I’m beginning to think I might not know you as well as I thought.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Maybe it’s time we get to know each other all over again.” He took another step toward her.

  She raised her chin, hooked her gaze on his lips, and thought insanely, Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

  He leaned in.

  She held her breath, closed her eyes.

  And he dropped a kiss on her cheek. No, it was too quick to qualify as a kiss. It was a peck. He’d given her a peck on the cheek.

  What the hell?

  No way was she letting him get away with a peck.

  To surprise him again she wrapped her arms around his neck, dropping the ice cream carton to the floor, pulled his head down, and gave him a bona fide kiss.

  Long. Hard. Hot. Moist.

  Was it stupid? Hell to the yeah. Did she care? No. Because how much more broken could a heart get? She was already in love with him, and he didn’t love her back.

  C’mon, under those circumstances, what’s the worst that could happen? Great sex? Sign me up.

  When she pulled her lips away from his, Ryder grinned as if he’d dug up a treasure chest in his backyard and it was filled with gold. “What was that for?”

  “You looked like you needed it. Spending the day sifting through Twyla’s mess must have been exhausting.”

  “It was,” he said. “But you kissed it and made it all better.”

  “Glad I could help.” She was feeling uncertain now, but didn’t want him to know.

  “Take this.” He handed her the Froggy’s bag. “Dinner is part of the apology.”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Ryder. You’re entitled to your feelings. Or lack thereof.”

  “I do have feelings for you, Katie.” His eyes turned stormy. “And I hate that I hurt you.”

  “You are entitled to your feelings,” she repeated, “and you’re not responsible for mine. That last part took me a long time to learn.”

  “I was responsible for hurting you. I said something that wasn’t true.”

  “What is the truth, Ryder?”

  He paused, glanced around the room as if looking for rescue.

  “Hey,” she said. “It’s my turn to apologize for putting you on the spot. Seems like you’re not real familiar with feelings in general. But you were a solider. You had to go to war. I get that you got used to suppressing your feelings.”

  “Katie . . .” He swallowed so savagely his Adam’s apple jumped. “That night we shared was special to me—”

  “We could do it again,” she interrupted, and then paused to let him consider it. When he didn’t immediately respond, she added, “If you want to. But no pressure.”

  Dear God, had she just propositioned him?

  “I’m pretty beat,” he said. His eyes looked tired, and she noticed he was favoring his left leg. “And hungry.”

  “Oh,” she said, feeling deflated. She’d started having visions of him whisking her off to bed and eating fried chicken off her naked belly, but apparently they were not riding the same train of thought. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Aw.” He smiled. “There’s the good girl. I knew she was still in there somewhere.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The people-pleaser thing. You think it’s your fault when people aren’t happy. It’s not you, Katie. It was never you. In my book, you can do no wrong.”

  She touched her lips, wanting to believe him, but not sure she did.

  “I’m pooped. Today, besides digging through ruins of my childhood at the ranch, I went to talk to my father’s doctor. Dad is facing some tough challenges. If that wound on his toe doesn’t heal, he could very well end up losing his foot or even the whole leg. That’s what it’s so important for him to come home to a clean place.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Let’s eat and I’ll”—he raked an appreciative gaze over her body—“see if I can rally and take you up on that offer.”

  “We don’t have to. I . . .”

  “I want to.”

  “All right,” she said, and took the food into the kitchen, stopping long enough to scoop up the ice cream carton.

  Ryder trailed after her. “Nice house.”

  “I bought it this summer.”

  “Putting down roots.”

  “Finally got my act together. I was in flux what with Matt dying and getting laid off from Lockheed.”

  “Matt?”

  “My fiancé.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot his name.”

  “Anyway, swapping places with Gabi, going to LA, meeting up with you . . . it changed me. Made me realize I’d been drifting along in life, letting other people steer the boat. I took the helm for the first time in my life. Started my business, bought this house, and I’m truly happy.”

  “It shows,” he said. “Your face . . . you shine. I’m glad for you.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled and ducked her head, suddenly feeling shy in the face of his praise. “Could you go stash the Harley in the garage now?”

  “Yes, Miss Paranoia. I’ll go stash it. I won’t sully your reputation.”

  Whew. She felt better knowing the Harley was out of sight, just in case someone from her family happened to drive by.

  Ryder dashed outside, and came back a few minutes later to lean his butt against the kitchen counter, watching her as she got plates down from the cabinets. Sunflower and lemongrass Fiestaware that matched her yellow and green kitchen. She set the plates on the counter and turned around to open the paper bag, but Ryder took her elbow.

  “What—”

  Drawing her into his arms, pulling her against his chest, tipping her chin up, he kissed her, planting his mouth over hers, solid and seeking.

  The sudden rush of energy dizzied her. She fisted his shirt in her hands to keep from falling over. His arms tightened around her, and he deepened the kiss until they were both breathless and trembling.

  “Now that makes up for this morning,” she said, and stepped back so she could study his face. His eyes were swamp
y with desire, and they triggered a chain reaction inside her. Detonating her nerving endings in a series of tiny bomb explosions until her entire body was ablaze.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered. “I hurt you and there’s no excuse for that.”

  “You didn’t know I was standing behind you.” His words had hurt her that morning, but it wasn’t his fault. She was the one who’d let her fantasies go wild with impossibilities. Ryder was who he was. That’s why she loved him. The last thing she wanted was to change him. She accepted him for who he was. Her white unicorn. The beautiful creature she could not possess. For the very act of possessing him would forever change who he was.

  “I should not have said it. I didn’t mean it.”

  “Did you see your father today?” she asked.

  “For a couple of minutes.”

  “How was he?”

  “They came to treat his wound while I was there so I didn’t stay long.”

  “In other words, he was the same.”

  “He was better. At least physically. Mentally, emotionally . . .” Ryder rubbed a palm down his face. “That’s another story.”

  “It’ll take time. He’s got a hard callus over his heart.” And so do you. She rubbed a hand over Ryder’s shoulder, felt his taut muscles. “What I want to know is how are you?”

  He smiled, but didn’t mean it. “Fine.”

  “Tell the truth. This can’t be easy.”

  “Not much in life is easy. Except being with you.” He tugged her close again. “I missed you all day.”

  She leaned against him, trying not to read too much into his sweet talk and hot kisses.

  He was saying nice things, and making her feel both wanted and needed, but she knew he would not stay in Twilight, and she was as rooted here as that hundred-year-old elm tree in the front yard. She should untangle herself from his arms, but she didn’t because he smelled too damn delicious.

  Or maybe it was just the fried chicken.

  He tightened his grip around her waist and kissed her forehead. “God, you feel good.”

  “I missed you too,” she confessed, even though that was probably a bad idea. Dangerous stuff, letting him know how much he meant to her. That gave him all the power.

  Who was she kidding? He’d had the all power from the beginning.