“I promise,” I answered automatically, having already vowed the same to myself—well about not using Ouija boards, anyway. I narrowed my eyes as I scrutinized him, surprised such an undeniably macho sort of guy didn’t laugh at things that defied explanation.
“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” he asked.
My eyebrows immediately shot toward the ceiling once I realized I’d been caught staring at him. I shrugged. “I’m just surprised you believe in all this stuff—I wouldn’t think a guy like you would believe in ghosts.”
He frowned. “What’s ‘a guy like me’ mean?”
I laughed, amused to see he was on the verge of getting his tail feathers ruffled. “Don’t get your panties in a wad,” I started.
“My whats in a wad?”
I laughed again at his baffled expression. “I didn’t mean what I said as a put-down. I just meant that you’re a man’s man, you know?”
He continued eyeing me suspiciously.
“Oh my gosh,” I continued, rolling my eyes at the thought I’d have to spell it out for him. Maybe he was just fishing for compliments. “In other words, you’re not some geeky, skinny, unattractive dude who spends all his time playing Dungeons and Dragons.”
Ryan chuckled. “Okay, I’ll take that as a compliment?”
“Yes, Ryan, it’s a compliment,” I assured him. “No more fishing.”
“Fishin’?” he asked while innocently pointing to himself, like I had to be talking about someone else.
I continued to watch him as I wondered if there would ever be a time when looking at him wouldn’t stir the butterflies in my stomach. “I just think it’s funny to find a side to you I never imagined actually existed.”
Shoving more insulation into the wall, he reached for the staple gun and attached the insulation in place before looking down at me with his eyebrows raised. “There’s a lot more to me than you probably ever imagined existed.”
I wasn’t sure how to take the comment. His tone was clearly playful, even flirty, but his eyes were smoldering and very sexy. I gulped down a tide of anxiety that suddenly flowed through me. “I’m sure there is, Ryan.”
He didn’t break his gaze but continued to stare at me with a slight smile on his full lips. “Just like I’m sure there’s lots about you that I don’t know.” He paused for a few seconds. “Lots about you that I would very much like to know,” he added, his voice deepening.
Swallowing hard, I emitted a strange giggle-choke sort of sound. The few moments when my bizarre relationship with Ryan leaned toward the more passionate than platonic side always made me uncomfortable…in a good way, if that were even possible. I immediately ceased whatever odd noise I was in the process of making and cleared my throat. “I think I’m an open book.”
“I think not,” he answered immediately, and if looks could kill, I would have died right there on the spot. There was something so feral in his eyes, my heart sped up. I broke eye contact first. He suddenly made me feel like I was stark naked, standing in front of an audience with no place to hide. When I chanced to look up at him again, his eyes were still on me.
“Remember how you promised me dinner?” he asked in a low, rough voice.
I nodded. I was completely floored that we were even having this conversation—especially with me wearing coveralls, watching him stuff insulation in the wall, errant pieces of which kept falling out all over his hair. It wasn’t the most romantic setting for what I was beginning to think might become a romantic conversation. At least, I hoped it would. “Yes, I remember.”
“What do you think about me takin’ you up on your offer now?” He asked, like there wasn’t a frayed nerve in his body—like he possessed absolutely no trepidation or anxiety at all. Instead, it was like his fair share of apprehension had been most unfairly assigned to me.
I cleared my throat again, trying to buy some time because I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant. “Um, last I checked, my kitchen wasn’t even gutted yet?”
“I didn’t mean you cookin’…”
“Okay,” I started, sounding completely confused and awkward.
Ryan chuckled heartily while shaking his head as he secured the last of the insulation in the wall, stapling it in place. Then he turned to face me, still wearing a beaming grin. “Nothin’ with you comes easy, does it?”
“Um, no?” I started, my eyebrows already rising in obvious puzzlement. “Er, I mean yes?”
Ryan’s unconcealed amusement remained on his face. He crossed his burly arms against his chest and continued smirking at me. “I’m tryin’ to ask you out on a date, Peyton.”
“Oh,” I answered immediately before chastising myself for acting so completely idiotic. I offered him a quick smile and lost the staring contest. Now I was paying way too much attention to the tops of my shoes.
“Not exactly the response I hoped for.”
I immediately looked up at him, realizing how bad my utter silence must seem. Well, blast it, but where in the hell was my cool, calm, and collected side? Where was that part of me that could handle my own with Ryan? The part that could banter with him and keep him on his toes? “Well, you didn’t exactly ask me right,” I answered, hoping that part of me had returned.
“Oh?” he asked in feigned shock. “How’s that?”
I stood up, suddenly wanting some space between us. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with him staring down at me. It made me feel like I was as tall as a Smurf. “Well, you basically just told me you want me to cook you dinner, or, failing that, to take you to dinner!”
“What? No, I didn’t.” He shook his head and narrowed his amber eyes at me, but there was a challenge in their depths. Seeing the smile already cresting his lips, it was pretty obvious he was enjoying my bewilderment.
With a nod, I crossed my arms against my chest, attempting to mimic his body language. I figured since I’d already laid down the gauntlet, I’d have to pursue my argument, although I was sure my smile was already giving me away. “Yes, you did.”
“How so?”
“If you recall,” I started, my voice sounding lofty, “my offer was to cook you dinner and you agreed, with the single stipulation that my kitchen had to be finished first.”
Ryan nodded, his grin widening. “Okay, that was true, but if you’ll recall, just now, I said I didn’t want you to cook at all.”
“Right!” I agreed although my voice came out a bit harsh. “But all that means is that you expect me to take you out to dinner, since that was my original offer,” I countered, desperate not to lose the silly argument. “Not that I mind taking you out to dinner…” I didn’t want him to think I was cheap or anything. But I also knew no Southern gentleman would like having it pointed out that I thought he expected dinner to be my treat.
He shook his head immediately, just as I supposed. “That doesn’t mean I wanted you to pay, silly woman.”
“I don’t mind paying…”
“Peyton, why is everything so difficult with you?” he asked while shaking his head again.
“Nothing’s difficult with me,” I argued. “You just don’t have a good grasp of the English language.”
He sighed. “Okay, let me do this again and make sure I word it correctly.” Then he took a deep, showy breath. “Would you, Peyton Clark, care to dine with me, Ryan Kelly, on the evening of your choosin’ this week? And I will happily pick up the tab.”
I laughed. “Um, sure, I’d love to.”
He clapped his hands together. “Finally! Something that could have taken all of two seconds ended up wastin’ a good ten minutes of our lives.”
“Blah!” I said with a laugh as I waved him away.
“Good Lord, remind me never to ask you out again!”