“I’m not looking for anything from you, Ryder,” she said. And that admission should have made him feel better, but it didn’t. It hit against his chest like a rubber bullet and left a painful numbness. “You looked dressed for a night out,” she breathed against his lips.
He had decided to go to the BBQ and ask her out. Again. Then she would have turned him down. Again. Then he’d persist and, once she agreed, he’d finally prove to himself he could control himself around her after all.
The plan had been doomed from the start, though. He ought to just cut himself off from her completely. But the truth was, he enjoyed Whitney—everything from her body to her company. What was more, he enjoyed who he was with her, bad idea or not. With her, he got to be real, and she allowed that. Welcomed it, even.
He needed to lie to her now, find the words that would send her away from him before he got himself in any deeper. But she wanted from him only what was real, and though he knew it would make things worse, he wouldn’t betray her with anything less than the truth.
“I just want to spend the night with you. However you want.”
She looked him in the eyes. “How about a compromise?”
He trailed his lips along hers and said, “I’m listening.”
“You want a dinner date. I want to eat you for dinner… How about we meet in the middle and I cook for you this time?”
He smiled against her mouth and said the one word she’d given him over the past couple of weeks that always made his pulse quicken with anticipation.
“Deal.”
Chapter Eleven
“I really do love your cooking,” Ryder said, spooning up a helping of dessert.
“Yes, well, I worked hard on this meal,” Whitney fibbed. Obviously she hadn’t baked since they were in her hotel room.
He just shot her a smile. “Yeah, I saw how difficult it was dialing the phone to order room service.”
She shrugged. “It’s my version of cooking. Still counts. Sort of…”
They both laughed.
Ryder held out a spoonful of dessert and she leaned in to let him feed her.
“Oh my God, this is good,” Whitney said around a bite of apple cobbler. Yep, room service was the best idea ever. He had stayed true to his word and not touched her until after their meal. He got his pseudo date, and Whitney got him on her bed. Only he was still clothed—something she was hoping to change shortly.
She sat on the mattress, legs crossed and facing Ryder, while he leaned against the headboard and held the bowl of dessert they shared. He reached out with a spoonful for her. She took another bite, and when the spoon left her lips, he instantly brought it to his own mouth. Watching the man eat was hot. Watching him walk was hot. Watching him stand and do nothing was hot.
She was hard pressed to find anything about Ryder that wasn’t, in fact, hot. And now her train of thought was on what muscles lay beneath that perfectly pressed shirt of his. Not to mention, he was feeding her, sharing with her, like they were…
Don’t say it.
Because they weren’t a couple. Or even friends. They were just having fun. That’s it.
His cell on the bedside table buzzed. He glanced at it, then took a deep breath and ignored it.
“If you need to get that—”
“It’s fine,” he said. But just then, the phone buzzed again.
“You’re a busy man,” she said. “And apparently in high demand.”
He glanced at the bowl of dessert. “There’s a lot going on for the opening of the Davenport Hall.”
“Are you worried?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “Yes and no. There are a lot of people watching. A lot of eyes on this event.”
“The town you mean? Are they all expecting you to have built this awesome Hall, one with no equal?” She gave a playful smile, but Ryder was serious.
“Kind of…yeah.”
Wow, that was heavy. And a lot to deal with.
“This one is important because it’s a showcase of me and my crew’s work,” he said. “My men are waiting to see if we get a chance to bid on Davenport’s next project.”
“Job security,” she said.
“Yeah. But it’s more than that. We’re not just restoring the Hall. We’re restoring the city. It’s a chance for the community to come together. Penny is providing food, the booster club hired the band… Everything and everyone comes together and they earn their livings that way.”
“So basically this event has a lot of futures wrapped up in it.”
Ryder nodded and that’s when she saw the pride in his eyes. He was riding at the forefront of this community project like he was born to do it. Because he was a strong, good man who cared about his community. He was a leader.
“So, have you ever had apple cobbler before?” he asked, holding another spoonful out for her.
Part of her wanted him to go on speaking about the Hall and his love for the city of Diamond. She’d suspected that his need for self-control was about some deep insecurity. And maybe there was a little of that, but she saw, too, that it was born from a deep devotion to the people he loved. He believed they depended on him, and he’d die before he let them down. No wonder he put such pressure on himself to keep control.
She knew that look in his eye, though. He needed a little distance. So she took the cobbler with a smile.
“No, never had it before,” she said. “The group home had mostly boxed meals, and none of my foster parents ever cooked much.”
Ryder stilled.
Whitney went pale. At least, she was pretty sure she did, since she felt the blood drain from her face. She never talked about her life. Her past. Any of it. She’d had her sister to talk to, and that was it. And she was gone now. So there was no reminiscing about her less than stellar childhood required.
Yet she’d just opened up to Ryder like he was her soul mate or something.
“How many foster parents did you have?” he asked.
She shrugged, trying for a flippant demeanor, but Ryder’s gray eyes were penetrating, like he could see right through her.
“Lost count,” she admitted. “But about two a year. Then there were bouts in the group home until another family was selected.”
“That’s why you said you were from everywhere.”
“We stayed near the Boston area.”
“We, as in you and your sister.”
She leaned toward him and licked her lips. He obliged her with another bite of cobbler. It gave her a minute to think. Usually her thoughts would be about how to get out of this conversation, but for some reason, talking to Ryder didn’t feel so bad.
“Yes, we stuck together.”
“I’m glad. So you had a sense of home wherever you went,” he said, and the softness in his voice made that hole in her chest throb. He understood. They were two totally different people from totally different walks of life, and somehow he said the one thing that summed up perfectly her life, her sister, and what Kacey had meant to her.
“Yes. She was like home.” Just saying it crushed her. Yeah, she went from place to place now, no roots, because once she’d lost Kacey, no place had ever felt like home again.
“I’m sorry you lost her.”
He didn’t ask how or why, or go for the gory details. He was calm, allowing her to lead with whatever she wanted to tell. And she appreciated him for that. More than she ever thought she could appreciate anyone.
“So…” She slapped her thighs, hoping for a subject detour. Because, truth was, she wanted to hear about Ryder. He’d opened up to her a little, and she valued that information dearly. It was a glimpse into the man he kept hidden. The man she enjoyed being around. “Word around the BBQ is this Hall you’ve redone is a big hit.” She snagged his hat and put it on her head.