For a split second, when Ryder opens the door to his home, I wonder if this was a mistake. How in the hell am I supposed to stay away from a man who looks like he does? He’s wearing a pair of khaki slacks that hug in all the right places and a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I know exactly what those clothes are hiding, and the mere thought makes my mouth go dry.
Then he smiles, and I’m done for. Those dimples are going to be my demise.
“Right on time,” he says, even though I’m fifteen minutes early.
I knew being punctual would be important but didn’t realize being fifteen minutes early would be considered on time.
“Come on in.” He opens the door wider, allowing me to step inside.
With nothing more than the singular bag on my shoulder, I step inside. He glances out the door, looking for what I can only assume are “my things.” Things that I don’t have.
“That’s it?” he asks.
“What can I say? I travel light.” I try to sound flippant without looking like a total flake—or setting off any red flags.
Standing in the foyer, my eyes take in my surroundings—the refinished woodwork, the fresh paint, the modern decor. It’s definitely not in line with the age of the home. I hadn’t had the opportunity to take it in the last time I’d been here. Between the heightened desire, then later the need to escape, everything had been very hurried—except the sex. That had been just right.
“You have a beautiful home,” I say, following him into the living room. The home lacks the feel of a bachelor pad, which is exactly what I would expect of a man like Ryder. It’s certainly lacking a woman’s touch, but it feels homey.
“Thank you.” He chuckles. “I can’t take all the credit. It was my grandmother’s house. I just inherited it.” Ryder takes a seat on the couch and pats the space next to him. I contemplate what to do. “It’s going to be pretty rough living together if you won’t even sit near me.”
Setting my bag on the floor I take a seat clear on the opposite side of the couch, making sure I don’t get too close, though even being in the same vicinity seems to be too close. From here, my body is humming, begging to be closer to him. Even apart, I can still smell him. The woodsy scent captures me and gives me the feeling of just how masculine he is, not that it’s hard to miss. The man is a wall of solid muscle and stands tall, well over six feet, probably closer to six and a half feet. His arms are huge, lines clearly indicating where his muscles are, each and every one of them.
“Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” That smile. Those dimples.
This was so not a good idea.
“So, do you think you could see yourself living here?”
“I’ve been sleeping on Hazel’s couch since I came to town. Believe me, this is quite the upgrade.”
“Who’s Hazel?”
“A friend of mine. The one I was with at the bar the night…” My voice trails off.
“About that…”
“Forgotten. Really. I need this job, Ryder. I promise I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.” The promise is going to be hard to keep, especially if he keeps looking at me like that.
“Same, though I do hope we can be friends.”
Friends? Most “friends” don’t know what you sound like when you orgasm. Still, when he looks at me like that, I would promise him anything. Difficult as it’s going to be—friends is good.
“Friends,” I say, taking the hand he extends. We shake hands, both of us reluctant to let go.
Ryder clears his throat and finally pulls his hand back.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page. How about a tour?”
I nod and follow him out of the living room. He shows me the kitchen, the laundry room, and an exercise room on the first floor before we make our way to the second. My eyes land on his ass, watching the way the firm muscles move with each step he takes.
“Bathroom is on the left. Amelia’s room is next to it. Mine is all the way at the end.” He opens a door on the right. “And here’s yours.” Ryder steps to the side.
I grab the handle and then hesitate to open it.
“Everything okay?”