by Nicola Marsh
But working at Sizzle had been a giant step out of her comfort zone and dating Ryder was another. She needed to do this, for her, otherwise she’d regret it for the rest of her life and always wonder ‘what if’.
Ryder wanted her. That was enough.
She had no illusions of happily ever after or other such nonsense. She knew the score. They’d hook up while he was in Sydney, then he’d leave. The end.
‘I’m not an idiot, Arch. I know what I’m getting into.’
The worried dent creasing his brow deepened. ‘Do you? Really?’
‘Yeah, and as much as I appreciate the concern, I need to do this and nothing you say will change my mind.’
‘Fine,’ he huffed, throwing up his hands in resignation. ‘But you’re both being incredibly selfish, putting me in an untenable situation.’
‘How do you figure?’
‘Well, if he hurts you, I’m honour bound to defend you, and I’ll have to kick his ass.’
She bit back a smile. Ryder had several feet on Archie and a lot more muscle. She’d like to see him try.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, ready for a change of topic. ‘Hey, did Ryder ever talk to you about his gran when we were growing up?’
‘Fuck no, guys don’t talk about shit like that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I knew something was wrong with his home life considering he spent all his time at our place. And we never saw his gran so I asked him one day if he’d made her up and if he lived in that place by himself.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘That his gran was a crazy old bat who hated his guts and he avoided her at all costs.’
‘Ouch,’ she said, struck again by how awful Ryder’s upbringing had been.
Hers hadn’t been a walk in the park but at least she’d bonded with her mum over their mutual love of fashion. Their relationship hadn’t been overly effusive or affectionate but she never got the feeling her mum hated her. She felt sorry for him. Not that she’d make the mistake of telling him.
‘What are you thinking?’
She sighed. ‘Sounds like Ryder had it tough growing up and we didn’t know.’
‘I had an inkling.’ He shrugged. ‘He hid it most of the time.’
She’d been clueless, and it struck her at that moment that maybe all his teasing and joking around had been his way of deflecting attention away from himself. Maybe he’d hidden his pain behind laughter and it made her feel even guiltier she hadn’t noticed something.
‘He hasn’t been in contact with his gran in five years.’
Archie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘He told you that?’
She bit back her first retort, ‘Yeah, Einstein, we’re not just screwing,’ but settled for a more sedate, ‘We’re still friends.’
A glint of admiration lit his eyes. ‘Have to say, it doesn’t surprise me, you two hooking up.’
‘You’ve made reference to it before.’
He managed to look sheepish. ‘Yeah, that’s because I had my suspicions and I was fishing for intel, knowing you’d be more likely to crack than that doofus.’
She chuckled. ‘Who knew giving each other grief was one giant exercise in foreplay?’
‘Ew, too much information.’ He screwed up his nose and leapt to his feet. ‘That’s my cue to leave.’
Polly grinned and followed him to the door where he paused, staring at her intently, as if searching for answers she hadn’t given him.
‘You’re happy, Pol, yeah?’
‘I am,’ she said, and embraced him in a quick hug. ‘Now go, before I mention the F word again.’
He shuddered. ‘I’m outta here.’
She laid a hand on his arm. ‘Thanks, big brother, for looking out for me.’
‘Anytime, sis.’
As Polly watched him stride down her path and disappear from view, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more behind Archie’s visit.
Was he just being overprotective or did he have genuine concerns considering he knew Ryder better than her?
Would the man she’d lusted after her whole life ultimately break her heart?
CHAPTER TWELVE
RYDER HAD HONED avoidance to a fine art over the years, and the day after he’d mucked things up with Polly was no exception.
He knew he owed her a phone call at least but every time he reached for his mobile he’d stop. In the past, his MO would be to laugh off the way he’d acted like a jerk in shutting her out, or to ignore it and pretend it had never happened. He’d become an expert at it and the fact that she and Archie rarely questioned him about his home life was testament to how damn good he’d been at hiding behind his jovial persona.
But he’d opened up to Polly last night in a way he’d never done with anybody and it had changed the dynamics completely. She wouldn’t be fooled by dismissive laughter this time. So he did what he always did when in need of a distraction.
He threw himself into work.
Not that his book was work, technically, more a labour of love. Anecdotes and snapshots and tales gathered over the years when he’d been an adrenaline junkie, chasing the next thrill. Breaking his leg in a skydiving accident wouldn’t have been a big deal in itself but narrowly avoiding death a few days later had shaken him to his core.
The fact he’d known the people who’d died right in front of his eyes in the accident had changed him. He hadn’t known the three young abseilers well, but he’d climbed with them on several trips through Europe and they’d been good people—two guys and a girl in their early twenties with stars in their eyes and adventure thrumming through their veins.
He should’ve been in the car that had got totalled by a driver who’d taken a bend too fast and smashed into them head-on. But the girl in his crew had taken a shine to one of the guys and she’d asked him to swap out. He’d teased her about it at the time, warning against guys with wanderlust who’d break her heart. Ten minutes later, that erratic driver had broken her body along with everybody else’s who’d been in the car. Three young lives wiped out, just like that.
The accident had happened almost six years ago and not a day went by that he didn’t hear the screech of brakes, the impact of metal on metal, and see the fireball explode before his eyes.
He’d had a lucky escape that day on a mountainside in Spain and it had changed his outlook. He’d finished his psychology degree, combined his love of travel with life coaching and never looked back. Chasing the next high on a mountain had turned into finding it in the arms of a beautiful woman, losing himself in sex, blotting out memories he’d rather forget.
That was the last time he’d spoken to his gran, not long after the accident, when he’d called her to...what? Mend fences? Tell her he wished things were different? To touch base with the only family he had? He’d mentioned the broken leg and she’d lectured him about the foolishness of indulging in ridiculous pastimes, before hustling him off the phone like she had more important things to do. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her about narrowly missing death. Then again, would she have cared?
The fact she hadn’t reached out to him since spoke volumes so he’d given up contacting her out of obligation. She didn’t care about him, probably never had. But to put the past to rest once and for all he would visit her while he was in Sydney. His emotional reaction to seeing her through the window at the house last night reinforced it.
His phone buzzed with an incoming message and he glanced at the screen, his heart giving a weird little kick when he saw Polly’s name pop up.
U busy? This morning @ work has kicked my butt. Would luv 2 escape office and have lunch.
He shouldn’t. It was too soon after last night. But he found himself snatching up the phone and tapping a response with his thumb.
C U @ one?
Her response came quickly.
GR8. Meet U out front @ Sizzle
She didn’t want him coming in? Interesting. Then again, if he could avoid a run-in with her cow of a boss it would be a good thing. Polly was the sweetest, smartest woman he knew and she didn’t deserve to be treated the way her boss treated her. He hadn’t intended on doing any speaking gigs while he was in Sydney but he’d make damn sure he kicked ass at Sizzle’s fundraiser so Polly could ram it down her boss’s throat.
After riffling through more information for the book, he realised the task he’d assigned Polly was bigger than he’d anticipated. There was a lot of sorting to do before he would be ready to sit down and start structuring the book, and considering all he had to do was give a speech at a fundraiser Polly had definitely got the worse deal.
It took him thirty minutes to reach Sizzle’s offices and as he pulled into a parking space he spied Polly standing out front. She clutched a giant black bag to her chest like a shield and he hoped it wasn’t as protection against him.
Then again, he had treated her pretty shabbily last night. She’d done nothing but ask simple questions. It wasn’t her fault the complex answers made his chest ache with regret.
Determined to keep conversation over lunch light-hearted, he locked the car and strode towards her. Her first reaction when she saw him would tell him a lot about how she felt about last night.
She glanced to the right at that moment, caught sight of him, and waved, a welcoming smile on her face and he exhaled in relief, unaware he’d been holding his breath.
Of course she’d be okay. In all his travels he’d never met anyone quite like Polly Scanlon: warm-hearted, genuine, with a dry wit beneath her deliberately plain exterior. She was pretty yet played down her assets and he’d always wondered why.
‘Hey, Pol.’
He touched her arm and leaned down to kiss her cheek. It was a remarkably staid gesture considering what they’d done up against the wall in her apartment and in that lingerie store’s dressing room. ‘Ready for lunch?’
‘You have no idea how ready,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder at the entrance. ‘Get me out of here, pronto.’
‘Bad morning?’
It seemed the most natural thing in the world to take hold of her hand, the gesture surprising her by the slight widening of her eyes.
‘You could say that.’ She grimaced. ‘There’s a trendy café around the corner from here. One of their giant chicken schnitzel focaccias will go some way to soothing my soul, then I’ll tell you all about it.’
‘Deal.’ He squeezed her hand as they fell into step. ‘I’m glad you asked me to lunch.’
A cheeky glint lit her eyes. ‘That’s what friends who date do, right?’
‘Right,’ he said, joining in her chuckles, grateful she was making this so easy for him.
She wouldn’t rehash last night, she was too clever for that, and it made him even more thankful for their friendship and the ease with which they’d slipped into something more.
They’d barely rounded the end of the block when he spied a café with wrought-iron chairs and tables filling every inch of the sidewalk. ‘This it?’
‘Yeah, though I’d rather sit inside.’
‘Why?’
‘Because if I see Andrina walk past I may be tempted to hit her over the head with one of those chairs.’
‘Okay then, inside it is,’ he said, biting back a grin at her bristling indignation. She looked incredibly cute with her face flushed and her mouth pursed in disapproval.
Thankfully, there were three empty tables for two tucked into the back of the café and they made a beeline for the one furthest away. ‘This okay?’
‘Perfect.’ She semi-collapsed onto a seat and dumped her bag on the floor.
‘Want a coffee to go with that focaccia?’
‘Make it a chocolate milkshake and I’m yours,’ she said, her shoulders slumping as if an invisible weight rested there.
‘Pity a place like this doesn’t stock brandy.’
‘I need to start carrying around a hip flask if I keep working at Sizzle.’
Her mouth turned down and the urge to march back to Sizzle and give that uppity Andrina a piece of his mind was strong.
‘Offloading to me will be better than alcohol, trust me.’ He winked and headed to the counter to place their order. As the waitress rang up it up, he glanced over his shoulder to find Polly resting her chin in her hands and staring at the far wall. She looked forlorn and nothing like her usual upbeat self. Damn that Andrina woman.
After paying and taking a number, he made his way back to the table, hoping he could cheer her up. He didn’t do deep and meaningful conversations as a rule. Moving around a lot, living on the road, didn’t breed close friendships and the adrenaline junkie crowd he used to hang with would spend their downtime boasting about exploits or watching extreme sports online rather than talk. And he never let the women he briefly dated get close enough to want to open up to him.
But seeing Polly so morose stabbed at something deep inside and he found he wanted to make it better for her.
When he resumed his seat, she straightened and lowered her elbows from the table, but her posture remained defeated.
‘Tell me what the she-devil did.’
‘Rehashing it will only make me feel bad all over again,’ she muttered, with a shrug. ‘Though it might help to get it off my chest.’
‘I’m all for getting things off your chest, especially if it’s your bra,’ he deadpanned, relieved when she laughed.
‘That is so lame.’
‘Yet it had the desired effect.’ He reached across the table and traced the curve of her lips. ‘Your smile is gorgeous.’
‘Thanks.’ Her smile widened as she swatted his hand away. ‘You wouldn’t know this, but you always had the ability to cheer me up when I was a kid too.’
‘Really?’
This was news to him, considering she had seemed perfectly happy back then. Serious, and a bookworm, but happy. He’d rarely picked up on any sadness.
‘Yeah. Your infernal teasing would snap me out of whatever funk I was in, and it looks like that hasn’t changed.’
He snapped his fingers. ‘So that’s what this lunch invitation was about. You don’t want me for my body, you want me for my sense of humour.’
A blush stole into her cheeks, alleviating the paleness he hadn’t liked earlier. ‘I think you know exactly how much I want your body.’
‘Still nice to hear you reiterate it.’ He winked again and snagged her hand across the table. ‘We need to go out on a date.’
He’d given her the perfect opportunity to broach the subject of last night and how he’d screwed up, but once again she’d put him first and didn’t take it.
‘By date you mean taking me up against the wall again, right?’
His cock hardened at the memory and his hand snaked under the table to rest on her thigh. ‘That will definitely be happening, but I thought it might be nice to do the real thing too.’
He didn’t like how her eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘You don’t have to do that. I’m not expecting all that romantic rubbish.’ A faint blush stained her cheeks and he wanted to nibble it away. ‘I’m fine with our original version of “dating”.’
Usually, this would be Ryder’s idea of the perfect woman. No expectations. Great fucking. No complications. But he’d known Polly for a long time so taking her out for a meal seemed natural.
‘Pol, if we’re going to date all night, we need to keep up our strength, and there’s nothing wrong with two old friends sharing a casual meal.’
She worried her bottom lip, an innocuous gesture that had his cock straining. ‘I can do casual. What did you have in mind?’
‘Hmm...’ He tapped his bottom lip, pretending to think, when in fact he knew the perfect place, something she’d loved a
s a kid and he hoped she still did. ‘Are you free tonight?’
Some of the light in her eyes died. ‘I will be, if the boss from hell doesn’t dump another shitload of work on me.’
‘Tell me if she does and I’ll drop a hint or two that if she doesn’t lighten up on you I won’t be speaking at her precious bloody fundraiser.’
‘You can’t do that; she’ll think I’m some kind of tattletale.’
‘Too damn bad, she’s a slavedriver and a nasty piece of work.’
‘Work being the operative word.’ Polly groaned and slumped back in her seat. ‘I’m not sure if she’s trying to test me or to get me to leave so she doesn’t have to stick to her promise of hearing me pitch for a permanent position at the end of the three months, but whatever she’s doing she’s driving me nuts.’
‘So how was this morning any different?’
‘One of the designers had a meltdown and quit, then a shipment from Milan went AWOL, and somehow both were my fault and I have to resolve it or else.’ She toyed with the sugar sachets, rearranging them within their circular holder. ‘I know she’ll cool down later—she always does—but she has unrealistic expectations and I’m starting to believe the rumours.’
‘What rumours?’
‘That she goes through a new PA every few months, and that’s despite the cachet of working at Sydney’s leading fashion house.’ She sighed. ‘I’m going to stick it out because I know I can make a difference to their bottom line once I move away from PA and into the role I covet, but one more morning like today and...’
She made a slitting action across her throat. ‘Andrina may find herself extracting a wire coat hanger from an orifice where it doesn’t belong.’
He laughed and after a few moments she joined in.
‘You are the strongest person I know, Pol.’ He leaned over to brush his knuckles down her cheek. ‘You can do this. I believe in you.’
