Lily glanced at the bottle of tequila. “Just your liver and your gossip voice. Because I’m dying to hear more about Mr. Diamond and how he’s all riled up by you.” Lily winked and headed toward the register.
Whitney watched Lily walk out into the midday sun. God, what had Whitney done to deserve that kind of goodness? Usually she couldn’t wait to get out of town, but the city of Diamond was already working its way into her heart. Heck, at this rate, she might even enjoy her summer.
Construction noises rang loudly. She peered across the street and saw a massive, beautiful, old-looking building with men in hard hats going in and out. But what really caught her eye was a familiar red truck parked out front.
Ryder’s truck.
The sounds of sawing and banging rang out again, and Whitney caught a glimpse of the tall, chiseled man who made her knees wobbly walk from the building to his truck. He was covered in sweat and dust, and a tool belt hung low on his hips. She licked her lips, watching all his muscles bunch as he hopped up into the bed of his truck and looked through some supplies.
Whitney didn’t remember when, exactly, she’d put the shirts back and walked outside. She also didn’t remember when she’d started hovering behind an antique-looking streetlamp. Her eyes just stayed on Ryder, and she lifted to her tiptoes to get a closer view of the sexy contractor bending over. Damn, those jeans molded perfectly to the finest ass she’d ever seen.
It was a work of art.
He glanced up and—shit, shit, shit, caught her staring right at him.
She spun around, but it was too late.
“You know if you stop hiding behind the pole and come closer, you can stare at me even better,” he yelled.
She turned back, and he tossed her a wink. Great. Just great. He’d caught her, and now his ego was likely off the charts.
All she could do was fake nonchalance and strut over. So she did. In her best I totally meant for you to catch me walk. And she tried not to let the heat of embarrassment show on her cheeks.
He hopped down out of his truck just as she reached him.
“Well, hello there,” he said. “Mighty fine day we’re having.”
He wanted to comment about the weather? Fine, she could dish small talk.
“Yep,” she said drily.
“Enjoying the town and all it has to offer?” he asked in a husky tone. He lifted the edge of his T-shirt and wiped his brow, putting on display those impressive abs. Holy God of all things holy, the man was made of pure stone. Tan, lickable stone.
The couple of times she’d been with Ryder, she hadn’t gotten a good look at him, and that was turning into a big fat regret at the moment, because he was not only strong, he was ripped. She was suddenly desperate to touch what she’d finally gotten to see.
“Suppose I could be enjoying it more,” she said.
“Oh?” He let his shirt drop, and she checked the urge to pout. “Well, you let me know if I can help in any way. I’m mighty proud of this town and would be happy to show you whatever you’d like to see.”
She licked her lips for the hundredth time and glanced at his belt. She wanted to see a lot, and only Ryder could help her with that. But the other night raced through her memory. She remembered how horrified he’d looked after taking her against his truck. That recollection alone made her stomach turn to ice.
“I’ll figure it out on my own,” she said and spun to walk away.
“Hey.” He caught her hand, and she froze—but not from the cold, from the heat. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
She faced him. “I’m not. Just giving you distance. Boundaries, remember? Isn’t that what you want?”
His thumb brushed back and forth over her knuckles. “Yes.”
She nodded. Super. This was just super. She was drooling for a guy that wanted space from her, and she was ready to push him into the back of his truck and jump him at the first sight of his muscles.
Get ahold of yourself!
“How about dinner?” he asked, those gray eyes glinting with the reflection of sunshine.
“I’m not working at the BBQ tonight. Day off.”
“Well, that’s great luck, because I was talking about me making you dinner.”
“Did you hit your head recently?” she asked. “Because I can’t figure out how you say you want boundaries then dinner in the same breath.”
“I enjoy testing myself,” he said with a sly smile.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “So I’m a test to you?”
“You test a lot of things. But I’d like to have dinner with you. Tonight. My place.”
She raised her chin. “And what test should I expect? The ‘coffee’ kind where you’ll polite me to death until I can’t take any more of your respectable manners?”
“Yes, that’s the test.” He stepped closer and rasped, “And it’s one I’ll likely fail.”
Her breath hitched. “I don’t want to be your buddy, Ryder.”
“Good. I don’t want that either.”
“Dinner sounds like a date. The kind I already turned down.”
“So you won’t go out to coffee with me or do anything that resembles a date, but truck sex is on the table?”
She pursed her lips, but she couldn’t deny…
“Yeah, that’s basically it.”
“You make no sense to me, sweetness,” he said, and the smell of him was getting to her. Rough, raw male, spice and sweat, all mixed with a hint of cologne. It was enough to make her crazy.
She made no sense to him? The truth was that she didn’t make sense to herself, either. She could do sex, no commitments, no dates, no expectations. Just sex. But Ryder was trying to make their interactions walk a line between friends and lovers that felt like a tightrope. One minute polite and cordial, the next wild and wanton.
“I’m not looking to date you,” she said, more for her own good than his.
He leaned back against his truck. His tool belt swayed a little, and she couldn’t help but imagine him wearing nothing else.
“Oh, I know that, sweetness,” he said with a sly smile. “So then you’ll have no problem coming over for dinner? Just two people having a meal. I promise to be on my worst behavior.”
She laughed a little, and he tilted his head to examine her with interest—a look like that did funny things to her chest.
“So long as we understand each other.”
“I understand that we want two different things. I’m going to do my best to show you that just hanging out can be worthwhile.”
She started to tell him that was the problem. She didn’t do “worthwhile,” not when she was never around long enough to get attached to anyone. The risk of losing them was too great, and she refused to ever experience that pain again.
Except Ryder wasn’t asking for her to get attached. He was playing their usual game, and she finally understood that those rules might be what would help her get another piece of him without her taking the risks she knew to avoid. This way they could stay temporary. This way she could stay safe. This way she could maybe get her lips on his again. And she’d love seeing him try to stop her.
“You mean you’re going to try to deny me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes roamed over the length of her and melted her core instantly with a single sweep of that gray gaze.
Casual was good. Casual was where she operated. Because she’d leave, he’d stay, and life would go on. He wanted dinner? She wanted sex.
“Looks like I’m going to have to bring my A game then, Mr. Diamond.”
“Game on, sweetness. Game on.”
Chapter Eight
Ryder was either the biggest idiot on the planet or plain delusional. Because he knew, knew, he was waging a losing war against Whitney, but here he was, yet again running into the fray, half-cocked and ready to go. Literally.