Roughing It With Ryan

12

THE NEXT MORNING Suzanne woke and ran to her front door. Hauling it open, she looked down at her feet, and let out a helpless little hum of pleasure.

Ryan had come. She unwrapped a set of votive candles, vanilla scented. Her favorite, which he knew, and she melted all over again.

This time the card read:

Suzanne,

I couldn’t find chocolate ice cream scented candles…

Ryan

She laughed.

Then she cried.

She stood there holding the teak utensils and candles, with her pin on her pajamas, staring out into space. What would happen if she gave in?

No. No giving in. Had she forgotten what she did to men? Good men went bad because of her.

Damn, this wasn’t funny. This wasn’t something she could walk away from. Suddenly furious at herself for getting in too deep, she headed down the hall.

Suzanne found Taylor in one of the dusty, bottom floor storefronts, looking as put together as always in tan slacks and a pristine white blouse.

“Hey there,” Her friend said, not turning around. “I’m getting this unit ready. We need someone with lots of bucks to come in and open a shop or something. I was thinking- Uh-oh.” She’d finally turned and took in Suzanne’s rattled appearance. “What’s the matter?”

“Do you know where Ryan’s current job is?”

“Um…” Taylor smoothed her perfectly glossed lips together. “If I say yes, are you going to storm off in your pajamas, holding what looks like salad tongs and a set of candles?”

Suzanne looked down at her sweat bottoms and tank top. Women wore less than this every day. So her hair was undoubtedly rioted and she had no makeup on, so what? She wasn’t here to win a beauty contest. “I am, yes. He’s…he’s sending me gifts, Taylor.”

“The bastard.”

“I know!”

Taylor stuck her tongue in her cheek. “So what did he send?”

“Not generic flowers. No, nothing as simple as that. He sent good stuff. Stuff I want but would never go buy for myself.”

“Really,” Taylor said with a tsk and a serious face. “The nerve.”

“It gets worse.”

“Do tell.”

“Well…I think he likes me for more than just the sex.”

“Again, what a bastard.”

Suddenly Suzanne laughed. Just as she’d always laughed in the face of such emotion. It felt good.

“Oh, honey. Give it up. Marry him.”

Suzanne’s amusement faded. She stared at Taylor, utterly confused, and miserable in it. “You’re as crazy as he is.”

“Really? What else is he doing to you besides the gifts and great sex?”

“He won’t get out of my head, that’s what!”

Taylor grinned. “He’s at the Pasadena Target store, taming a humungous set of palm trees.”

The store wasn’t far at all. She could march over there and tell him this was not funny, that he had to knock it off, and still be back in half an hour. “Thank you,” she said, and shocked them both when she hugged Taylor.

Taylor squeezed her back. “What’s this for?”

“For laughing at me. I needed that.”

She was halfway to the door when Taylor called out. “You going to give him hell, or a big, fat, juicy kiss?”

“Hell,” said Suzanne, a thought straight from her head.

But her heart cried out for the big, fat, juicy kiss.

HELD UP BY safety gear, Ryan carefully balanced himself about sixty feet above ground, one foot braced on the roof of the building, the other on his rig ladder. Time to tackle a palm tree.

While he contemplated his next move, something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. A figure striding directly toward Russ on the ground.

A wildly curved, wildly red-haired figure. Her arms were full, her posture animated.

And even at sixty feet, he could feel the fury.

“You’ve got company,” Rafe noted from his high perch.

As if Ryan hadn’t already felt her. As if his entire body hadn’t leapt to hopeful attention. “I see her.”

They started down. Suzanne’s gaze landed on him and never wavered.

He wondered if that was good or bad.

Bad, he decided, when he caught a glint of the emotion in her eyes.

When his feet touched the ground, she stalked toward him, balancing the things in her arms to free up a hand so she could poke him in the chest with her finger. “You.”

“Me,” he agreed, rubbing his chest. Ouch. “It’s, uh, good to see you.” She was wearing hip-hugging sweats and a little tank top, showing off the body that made him want to beg. God, he missed her. “How are you?”

“I would be just fine, thanks, except you’ve been leaving me gifts.”

“Yes.”

“You bought me cooking utensils.”

Blatantly eavesdropping, Rafe took off his hard hat and sidled up closer.

“I did buy you utensils,” Ryan agreed. “For your business.”

“Why?”

Ryan glanced at Russ, who was also apparently unconcerned about eavesdropping, as he’d moved in to hear, too.

“Ryan?” Suzanne’s arms were crossed, her foot tapping the asphalt as she not-so-patiently waited.

“Why did I buy you cooking utensils?” Ryan scratched his head and tried to figure out if that was a trick question.

“Yes, why did you buy me cooking utensils? It’s a straight-forward question, Ryan.”

Oh, she looked magnificent, and furious.

And confused.

It was the last that broke Ryan’s heart. “Because they were beautiful and reminded me of you. Suzanne, you cook.” He lifted a hand. “It made sense to me.”

“Oh, man, you bought her cooking utensils?” Rafe shook his head. “Should have stuck with flowers, bro. Chicks like flowers.”

Ignoring that, Suzanne thrust out a votive candle. “What about these?”

“You bought those, too?” Russ winced and sent Ryan a pitying look. “Ah, jeez. It’s like watching my idol fall right in front of me.”

Shooting his brothers dirty looks was a huge waste of time. Ryan did it anyway, but they didn’t budge. Fine. He’d kill them later. Facing Suzanne, he said, “I bought those because the scent reminded me of you.”

“Oh, dude…” Rafe groaned. “You’re going down.”

“They…reminded you of me?” Suzanne stared down at the offending candles, then clutched them to her chest as if they were a dozen roses. “Really?”

Ryan nodded, a little confused himself now. Was he still in trouble? Or was he back in her good graces? His head was spinning.

“He meant to buy you flowers and make you dinner and light those candles,” Russ said, stepping forward. “He just gets all mixed up sometimes. It’s his age.”

“I didn’t get it mixed up,” Ryan said, hoping to God he was right. He had no clue, and Suzanne standing there in her little itty-bitty tank top and belly-baring sweats, with her hair wild and free, her face void of makeup, looking for all the world like she just stepped out of bed, gave him no clue.

All he knew was that he wanted to move close and touch her. So he did.

“He’s just been so swamped becoming a landscape architect,” Rafe said just as Ryan lifted a hand. “Or he would have been more romantic.”

With Ryan’s fingers on her face, Suzanne turned her lips into his palm. Kissed him. “It was romantic,” she whispered.

Ryan’s heart leapt into his throat. She got it. She really got it. She understood. She thought the gesture of buying her such personal gifts was romantic.

Thank God.

“The gifts were purchased just for me,” she said to Russ and Rafe.

Oh yeah, she got it. “Yes,” Ryan said. “Just for you.” There was no one else. There would never be anyone else.

“They’re wonderful,” she said to him now. “Wonderful and thoughtful, and…and they made me feel special.”

Ryan was pretty much glowing. From the sexual energy, no doubt. From her words and the meaning behind them, too.

And rational or not, hope surged within him.

He just might get lucky tonight. He could almost taste her now. And with his arms around her he could convince her how good they were together…

“What I want to know is,” she continued softly, staring right at him. “Why?”

And that was when Ryan got a few important life lessons. First, buying a girl a present was not a direct pass to her bed.

And second, he had no clue what did constitute that pass.

But he could see her mistrust and fear clear enough, and because of that he managed to realize something else. Matters of the heart, specifically hers, couldn’t be handled with a few little tokens.

Nope, if he wanted her love-which he definitely did-he’d have to earn it.

The hard way. “I bought you those things to make you feel good. To make you smile.”

“Not to soften me up so I’d…” She lowered her voice so only he could hear. “So I’d sleep with you again?”

Ah, hell. Nope. No way would he admit to that temporary crack in good judgment. “Just to make you smile,” he repeated, and was rewarded with exactly that.

So when she started to walk away, her hips swinging in such a way that drew his eyes, it took him a moment to assimilate she was leaving. “Hey!”

She just kept walking.

What the hell? “Suzanne?” He drew all sorts of snickers from his crew when he went running after her. Catching up to her at her car, he spun her around.

She was still smiling, so prettily just for him, that he couldn’t help but smile back. “You came to just smile at me and leave?”

“No. I came to get mad at you, but I don’t feel mad anymore.”

“Let’s have lunch.”

“It’s too early.”

“Breakfast then.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Suzanne.” He let out a little laugh. “You’re driving me crazy here.”

“I know.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “Me, too. I’m sorry. I’m a little confused, Ryan. I just need to think.”

“Can’t you think with me around?”

“Frankly, no.” She touched his jaw. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t.”

“I just…need to be alone to think, okay? Good-bye, Ryan.”

He snagged her hips and held her still, feeling unreasonably panicked, though he forced a smile. “I don’t like that word, good-bye, not when it applies to you and me.”

“It’s the only one I have at the moment.”

Be patient, he ordered himself as she drove away. She cared, she cared deeply, he could see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. Just be patient.

He might as well have asked himself to stop breathing.