His smile was also forced. “I told you the little guy’s a sleeper.” His smile disappeared. “Probably because his sleep is interrupted so often.” He clenched and unclenched one fist. “I realize this has to be related to him losing his mom, but he was so young. I don’t even have that many memories at three-and-a-half- to four-years-old. But you think he remembers her, right? You said that he said, ‘Mama, don’t go?’” His voice broke slightly as he said it, and he glanced away from her.
Bree stepped closer. She probably stank like sweat, but he needed her right now. Maybe this job was as much about healing the dad as it was the son. She crossed the lines she’d asked him not to cross as she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head in the crook of his neck. He started briefly, and she could hear his heart thumping wildly against her. Her own heart was racing. This was supposed to be a hug of comfort. Was it working at all?
Ryder’s arms slowly came around her back, and he rested his head against her hair, which she had pulled back in a messy ponytail. “It’s not as soft as it looks,” he murmured.
Bree laughed, fighting the desire rushing through her. “Lots of product to make it look as good as it does and not frizz out.”
He nodded against her hair. “To look amazing.”
Bree cleared her throat. This was not the direction she’d meant this hug to go. What were you expecting? The voice inside her head was bitingly sarcastic. She pushed it away. “You and Tate have both been through something horrific,” she said, trying to refocus on why she was holding him—Comfort, comfort. Please let him think it’s for comfort. “It’s going to be okay.”
Ryder leaned back, and she tilted her chin up to focus on him. “So you’re hugging me to reassure me it’ll all work out.” The slight tilt to his lips told her he knew she’d felt more in this hug than reassurance.
“Y-yes.” She pulled back and spun away. “Have a good workout.” Rushing from the gym, she felt his eyes on her back. Sheesh, that man was making it impossible for her to act like a professional.
Ryder pounded through sprint sets and weight sets. Even though he hadn’t slept, he had more energy than usual. Tate had spoken in his sleep, and Bree had willingly hugged him. Though the hug had comforted his worries about his son, the feelings created by her body pressing against his were so much more than comfort—excitement, exhilaration, bliss. He had never known a woman in his arms could feel like that. He and Jessica had dated since they were sixteen, and in his memories, they’d fought more than they got along. His parents, brothers, sister, and teammates had begged him to dump her and date someone else, but he was dumb and insecure. She was gorgeous, the head cheerleader, the girl every guy in the school drooled over. It had always been a twisted source of pride that she’d chosen him. Now, he knew how stupid and immature he’d been, but he couldn’t change anything about the wasted years and miserable relationship they’d had. The only thing he could do now was learn from his mistakes. That would definitely make his mama happy.
Bree. She was a breath of fresh air—fun, happy, and even though he’d thought her face was absolutely gorgeous the first time he saw her, she’d grown more attractive to him every hour she’d been here. He pounded out a set of dropping pushups and tried to be reasonable. Bree was hired to be here, and he needed to treat her as a professional and not become attracted to his son’s therapist. But she’d hugged him. And it had felt marvelous.
He made it through his workout and saw it was after nine. He hurried to Tate’s room, wondering where Bree was. Her bedroom door was open, but he didn’t see any sign of her. He carefully opened Tate’s bedroom door and paused just inside. The shades were still down, and most of the light was coming from behind Ryder. His eyes adjusted, and he could see Tate sprawled out in his too-big bed. He glanced around and found Bree. She was perched in an overstuffed chair with a notebook in hand, her phone and a laptop computer next to her.
She lifted a hand in greeting and whispered, “You weren’t kidding. He sleeps late.”
Ryder smiled, nodding. He wanted to stay in this room where Bree and Tate were, but he needed a shower before he got too close to her. He could hardly wait for Tate to wake up and see if some miracle had happened. Maybe this was the first time he talked in his sleep and there would be a huge change today.
He crept closer to Bree but stayed far enough away she couldn’t smell him. “I’m going to shower quickly. Then I’ll be back.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yes, you shower. Hard-working football stars reek.”
He chuckled. Maybe he hadn’t stayed far enough away. He strode to the stairs and down them, rushing through his shower. His sister, Navy, often gifted him with good-smelling body washes and shampoos. At least he’d smell good for Bree, if she hugged him again. If Tate willingly talked today, he’d hug her and then some.
As he came out of the bathroom, he could hear Bree talking. He hurried through his bedroom and out into the main area. Would this be the moment that he finally heard his son’s voice?
Bree was in the main living room by herself. She was facing the rear windows overlooking his backyard, wearing a simple white tunic and red leggings. She turned and saw him, giving him a flickering smile but quickly turning her back on him.
“I need to go,” he heard her say. She sounded distraught and excited, if that combination were actually possible. “Yes, thank you, Peter. Okay, I’ll see tonight.” She tapped on her phone and then whirled to face him. Her smile seemed strained. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Jealousy and frustration filled him. She had a date with some Peter guy tonight? He inclined his chin upstairs. “Little man still sleeping?”
“Yes.” She lifted her phone. “I have to … is it all right if I run an … errand tonight?”
How could he say no and why did she seem so nervous? He wasn’t her jailer. He was her employer. Before this moment, he would’ve been happy to give her time off whenever she needed it. But not to go on a date with Peter. What kind of a stuffy name was Peter? An errand? What would she “see tonight?” She was dating someone. That sucked, and why was she lying to him?
“Um, sure. I’ll be fine with Tate.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I mean, he is my son and we’re always happy together.” He forced another smile, hoping she didn’t realize how jealous and petty he was feeling. He didn’t even know her, but he and Tate needed her. They were happy together, but Bree brought sparkle into their lives he didn’t realize they were missing. This Peter guy shouldn’t have any claim on her.
“Thank you.”
He heard Tate’s door closing upstairs and released a sigh of relief to be done with this awkward conversation. Spinning away from Bree, he ran for the stairs and went three-quarters of the way up then dropped to his stomach. Would his son scream “Daddy” when he grabbed him? His heart was thumping hard and fast.
Tate bounced down a few stairs. Ryder leapt to his feet and growled, “Rarrr!”
Tate shrieked and laughed. Ryder lifted him off the stairs and threw him into the air. He caught him easily, rubbing noses with him. “Good morning, buddy.”
He waited, hoping and praying.
Tate simply grinned at him, clasped his face with his soft hands, and rubbed noses with him again.
Ryder’s stomach plummeted, but he tried not to be disappointed. Bree hadn’t even been here a day yet, and already, she’d heard Tate talk in his sleep. It would come. Patience wasn’t easy, but it would all work out. “You hungry, my man?”
Tate nodded quickly. Ryder padded down the stairs to where Bree was waiting for them in the living room. Bree opened her arms when they got close and Tate leapt to her. She hugged him. Tate snuggled into her arms like he’d known her his entire life. Ryder pushed past the disappointment of Tate not talking and was back to the surge of jealousy that Bree was going out with some guy tonight. He and Tate were already much too invested in her.
Chapter Five
Bree thought today had gone well with Ryder and Tate. They’d
done some speech therapy but mostly just let Tate play, and Bree played with him. It was important Tate was fully comfortable around her, and so far, he seemed to be. Him leaping into her arms this morning had made her heart swell in a way she’d never felt before. Hugging Tate’s father in the gym earlier was definitely stirring feelings she hadn’t felt before, but she couldn’t be falling for her famous boss.
She could tell Ryder had hoped for a miracle this morning after Bree hearing Tate say words in his sleep, but he took Tate’s lack of speech in stride. She was impressed with Ryder Quinn, who was nothing like the stereotypical football star she’d built up in her mind. If she wasn’t so distracted thinking about finally finding her sister tonight, she would be thinking about fighting her attraction to him.
Twisting and scrunching her hair with the curl-boosting glaze, Bree glanced at her face in the mirror. Would Jasmine recognize her? Would her little sister be as cute and funny as she’d been as a child? Would they look as similar as they had? Jasmine would be twenty-two by now. A full-grown woman. Bree said the prayer she always said for Jasmine: Let her be safe and happy. Now, the prayer also included a more selfish thought: Please let her want me in her life.
She put in some dangly silver earrings, smoothed down her floral sundress, shrugged into a white short-sleeved sweater, and grabbed her leather purse off the side table. The purse was too boring for her style, but before yesterday, she hadn’t had the money to replace it.
Walking out of the room and along the balcony, she descended the stairs. Something smelled fabulous, but she was so nervous her stomach was twisting. She could see Ryder and Tate through the archway into the dining area. Ryder hadn’t seemed thrilled she was leaving tonight, but he hadn’t said much about it. Did he want her working with Tate around the clock or was it possible he liked having her around? She’d enjoyed her time with him and Tate immensely. She just needed to keep the focus off his picture-perfect face and body. Those lines she’d asked him not to cross had disappeared and she didn’t mind at all.
She bit at her lip as she strode to the dining room. The fixings for steak fajitas were spread on the table.
Ryder stood as she walked in. “Wow.” He swallowed and said, “You look fabulous.”
Was there more than a hint of desire in his blue eyes? Bree shook it off. This was not the time to explore that. “Thank you.” She tucked a curl behind her ear and rubbed at Tate’s curly head. “What’s up, little man?”
He grinned up at her then shoved a chip in his mouth, chewing loudly.
“Do you want to eat with us?” Ryder asked, his voice hopeful and cautious.
She shook her head. Her stomach was rolling too much to eat, and Peter had been insistent that the message he’d overheard said Jasmine would only be at the mall for a short time. “No, thank you.” She backed away, clutching her purse. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
He nodded, his jaw clamped tight. “The code’s 1991 for the gate.”
“Your birth year?” she guessed.
“Yeah.” The tension in the room was growing so much that Tate stopped plunging chips into his mouth, his gaze was swiveling between them.
“Now, that’s original,” she said teasingly. “Hopefully, no one tries to break in.”
He gave her half a smile then flexed his arm. “No one can get past these guns.”
Bree laughed and felt better. “Wow. I don’t even have a response for that one.”
He winked. “Just kidding. The security company gets an alert when someone uses the code. If they aren’t approved, the cavalry shows up.”
“Am I approved?”
His eyes swept over her, slowly, carefully. “You’re more than approved.”
Bree’s throat went dry. “Thank you,” she squeaked out. She had to break away from Ryder’s blue gaze or she’d be late and risk losing her sister for another fourteen years. Bending down, she kissed Tate’s cheek. “See you, buddy.”
He wrapped his soft arms around her neck and gave her a squeeze. Bree was already falling in love with this little guy. She straightened and focused on his too-handsome father. “Bye.”
“You’re going to have to take my sport utility.”
“What?” She couldn’t possibly drive his fancy Lexus.
“It’s either that or the Camaro.”
“Well, that’s a no-brainer. I’d look hot in that Camaro.”
He laughed, but his eyes were giving her a compliment she really appreciated.
“I’m teasing, Ryder. Where’s my car?”
“You said you wanted it towed away. Kars4Kids came while you were doing therapy with Tate. You’ll get a tax donation too.” He grinned and winked. “Until we go shopping for a new car, you drive my Lexus. Just put the key that’s in the console in your purse. It’ll click open when you get close.”
“Well this just got awkward.” She couldn’t believe he’d done what she’d asked and gotten rid of her piece of crap car. Donating it to a children’s charity made her like him even more, and he was going to let her drive his Lexus. “I’ll just call an Uber.” But that might make her late for Jasmine.
“I insist.” He stood, and the beautiful glory of him almost overwhelmed her. “Unlike some men, I will always take care of you.”
Bree wasn’t even sure how to respond to that or what he meant by it. Did he think she dated losers? “Well, um, thank you. See you soon.”
Ryder nodded. Bree hurried away, her heels clicking on the distressed wood floor. She went through the mud room and out the garage door. Getting into the Lexus, she sat and melted into the leather. That man was going to own her heart if she wasn’t careful. You’re more than approved? Wowzas.
She pushed the garage button, backed out, and drove slowly down the driveway. The front gate opened automatically. Gaining speed, she hurried toward the freeway, taking I-67 to the south side of Dallas. The car responded smoothly to every bit of pressure on the wheel or the gas. It beeped at her if she got too close to the white line or tried to change lanes without enough space. If she hit the cruise button, it would speed up or slow down with the vehicles in front of her. She didn’t even have to press the gas or brake if she didn’t want to. Sweet. She’d never enjoyed driving before now.
She drove to the mall where Peter claimed her sister was meeting some people. What would Jasmine’s friends be like? What would she be like? Bree’s excitement grew. The wait was finally over, and soon, she’d be hugging her little sister.
The drive seemed to take much longer than twenty minutes, but she finally pulled into the sprawling parking lot of an older shopping center. South Dallas wasn’t the best area, with gangs and drugs, but she figured she was safe in a brightly lit mall parking lot. She hoped Ryder’s beautiful vehicle was safe. She climbed out, and as she touched the door handle, the locks clicked. Clinging to her purse with sweaty palms, she hurried toward the mall’s west entrance, avoiding looking at the groups of people loitering in the parking lot and outside the entrance. She heard a few catcalls and some lewd comments, but she rushed on.
Safely in the mall, she pushed out a breath. Would Jasmine be with a rough crowd? What if her sister had been caught up in bad influences—drugs or gangs? Bree shook those thoughts off and started praying again. She clipped briskly down a side hallway and into the main hallway. Down another side hallway, she found the clothing store where Peter claimed Jasmine would be meeting people at exactly 7:13. Why so specific on the time? Why “people,” why not friends? Her upper back was growing more tense by the second. She had no clue what to expect, and the excitement she’d had earlier was growing into uneasiness.
She walked into the store and pretended to peruse a rack of sweaters near the front. Glancing around, she saw a few young women shopping and a bored clerk looking at her phone. Nobody was even close to what she imagined her sister would look like. She pulled out her phone. 7:12. One more minute, and she’d see her sister. The excitement returned, and her stomach pitched. Maybe she should’ve eaten so
me of Ryder’s delicious-smelling food. Ryder and Tate and their peaceful home seemed very far away right now.
She squared her shoulders and slipped her phone back into her purse. She heard a rush of feet and glanced up. Older teenage boys surrounded her. Her heart beat faster. One leered at her and muttered, “She’s hot.”
The shortest of the group pushed up into her face with his own scarred and terrifying face. His dark eyes were much too close together. He just looked mean. “You got our stuff?”
“I … don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb, pretty girl, or we’ll carve up that beautiful face.” He flicked a knife out of his pocket and pressed the open blade against her chest.
Bree’s heart was beating so fast she couldn’t catch a breath.
“You know the drill. You give us our stuff, and we give you info.”
“H-h-help!” she screamed.
A hand clamped over her mouth, and she was flipped off her feet and pinned between the boys. They moved quickly, rushing her out of the store and down the side hallway. They banged through a door labeled Security. Thank heavens. She’d get some help. She’d been in some terrifying situations growing up, but it had mostly been teenage boys trying to get her to kiss them, never someone pulling a knife and threatening to cut her face.
The boys rushed into the room, and an older security guard glanced up from his monitors. He stood. “What’s going—”
Two of the boys rushed him, knocking him off his feet with rapid jabs and pinning him back into his chair. One of the boys whipped out a thin rope. They had him tied in his chair with duct tape slapped over his mouth before he could put up any resistance.
The hand over Bree’s mouth still muffled her screams and made it even harder to breathe. What kind of a mess was her sister involved in? These boys must’ve mistaken Bree for Jasmine. Was Jasmine dealing drugs? Was she getting information for the cops and working with scum like this to accomplish it?
Quinn Family Romance Collection Page 5
