“Hello, Clara, You look lovely.”
“Aw.” She patted his chest.
He rose to offer his seat to her. Much as he wished she’d leave him alone, he couldn’t afford to be anything less than polite to her, not when he had so much work riding on her father’s good favor.
She took his seat, shimmying a little, and put her yellow mini purse on the bar.
“My daddy says the old hall is coming along. I can’t wait for the grand opening.”
Ryder nodded. Milton Davenport was not only Clara’s father, but a member of one of the early families of the area. Judge Davenport had been friends with Ryder’s grandfather, so it had been natural for the two families to mingle. Ryder had grown up with Clara, even dated her in high school. But they were grown now, and while Clara’s family had money, and she appeared to radiate sunshine, he knew she was a lot colder and meaner than most. The woman held a sense of entitlement like a blue ribbon.
“It’s coming along,” he said. He’d been working long days on that hall, pausing only to catch a few hours of sleep or to work on other odd jobs around town whenever someone asked. The big money that summer—and beyond, if Davenport found him worthy—was coming from renovating the Davenport Hall, but Ryder couldn’t refuse anyone who needed his help. It wasn’t just his duty as a Diamond. He genuinely loved this town and its people, and he would do anything to hold it together.
“I’ve been slaving away planning the event of the year,” she said, and did some kind of jazzy flick of her hands. “I still don’t have a date for the party.” She spun on the barstool a tad to face him.
Ryder gave a tight smile. She’d dropped hints several times about attending the grand opening with him. He had evaded and given the nicest “no” he could without pissing her off. No sense in rocking the boat with the daughter of the man his livelihood depended on. If Davenport chose to spread word that Ryder or his business was lacking in any way, that could harm future jobs, not just from Davenport, but others who listened to his opinion. And a surefire way to piss off Davenport was to piss off his one and only daughter.
“I’m just focusing on the job right now. You should have no problem finding a date, Clara.” He took a drink of his beer.
This was where nice and polite got him. A coy smile from a woman who was as shallow as she was mean. But he had a whole crew that depended on him for their living wage. Most of the guys on his team had families to support. It was all about the bottom line. And bottom line was that Ryder wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the business he’d worked hard to build, or the people that relied on him.
“You’re such a flatterer.” She giggled then turned her attention to Whitney. “Hello, miss?” She snapped her fingers twice.
Whitney’s head popped up, and a glare lit her lovely features when she zeroed in on Clara’s snapping fingers.
“You beckoned?” Whitney said, walking up and drying her hands on the rag that hung near her thighs. She was clearly upset with Clara’s behavior. Ryder couldn’t blame her. If anyone snapped at him like that, he might break their fingers.
“I’d like a chardonnay and a small salad,” Clara said. “Dressing on the side. Oh, and a fruit cup. No melon, though. If there’s melon, I’ll send it back.”
Whitney just nodded, spared Ryder a quick glance, then walked away and put Clara’s order in.
Ryder took another drink of his beer, hating this moment. Hating that he stood next to a woman that lacked any real warmth while another who was hotter than heaven and smiled all the time was just out of reach.
There was so much he wanted to say to Whitney. So much he wanted to do. But control was key. Keeping cool was key. It was how he dealt with everything.
If he went off doing whatever he damn well felt, he’d lose everything his family had built. He’d already put everything at risk once. Now he had to stick to a persona that was wholesome. Even his sister struggled with balancing her wholesome reputation with her sinful side, but she’d found her own brand of freedom in Sebastian. With Bass, Penny could let out her wild side, do all the things she’d fantasized about…
Ryder shuddered and pushed those disturbing thoughts away. Gross.
“Here’s your chardonnay,” Whitney said, placing it in front of Clara. “And for you, big guy,” she said with a saucy smile, and put a cup of coffee in front of him.
Smart-ass. A sexy as sin smart-ass, but a smart-ass all the same.
Clara frowned between the two of them. “You’re new,” she finally said to Whitney.
“Yep, just started yesterday.”
“And you know each other?” She motioned between Ryder and her.
“We met briefly,” Whitney said with a long sigh, then placed the heel of her hand on the edge of the bar and leaned in casually. “Very briefly, actually. In fact, I barely recall the details.”
“Is that right?” Ryder asked, tenacity lining his voice. Barely recalled the details? Oh, the little minx was playing with fire, and that fire had his blood boiling with the need to refresh her with all the details. “If memory serves, you were enjoying yourself. In fact, you were begging for another round.”
Her brows shot up.
Didn’t see that coming huh, city girl?
“I’m lost,” Clara said. “Another round?”
Whitney nodded but kept her eyes on Ryder. “Yeah. We were playing pool,” she said. “I beat him pretty badly. He’s afraid to play again. It was too devastating to his ego.”
Ryder laughed. “I don’t know what game you were watching, sweetness, but I walked away a winner. I think the final score was three to one.”
He tasted his bottom lip, recalling how sweet she’d tasted on his tongue, then took a long swallow of his beer. He didn’t miss the way she watched his throat work. Yeah, he got to her. The challenge, and the daring way she spoke, was fucking drugging. God help him, he wanted to play with her. All damn night.
“Maybe I let you win,” she said. And Ryder wasn’t buying it. Not for a second. He’d felt how hot she was. How wet she got for him.
Let me win, my ass.
Before he could say more, she lifted her chin at him. “Enjoy your coffee.”
Shit. So Whitney was not only sexy, she was smart. She also wasn’t one to be tied down. With coffee, dates, or politeness. She was raw and edgy, and she challenged his instincts.
Her words from earlier replayed in his mind.
Can that naughty Ryder come out to play?
His grand plan was losing steam quickly.
Whitney winked at him and went back to tending her tables. A few minutes later, he saw Penny talk with Whitney and heard the word “break,” and then he watched her ass, in those shorts he was becoming very fond of, walk toward the back exit and outside.
Ryder finished his beer and set it on the bar.
“Have a good evening, Clara,” he said quickly, then left out the front door. Any luck, he’d head Whitney off around the side of the diner. It was time he took back control.
Chapter Six
Whitney kicked the gravel and took a big bite of the apple she’d snagged on the way outside. The small rocks crunched beneath her feet as she walked from the back of the BBQ to the side of the building. The low glow of the light and muted music coming from the diner were both distant and muffled. She breathed deep of the crisp night air and the smell of wheat on the breeze.
There was a lone red truck parked in the shadows near the side of the building. It was somewhat secluded from the main parking lot around front. She leaned against the front bumper and took another bite of her apple, chewing with purpose.
That damn man inside was getting to her. He was hot, alpha, and made her skin prickle with anticipation. But maybe now she understood another side of his conflict, because he was also talking to the kind of woman that could be the right fit for him. The kind in summer dresses, with perfectly manicured nails. AKA, not Whitney.