by Diana Gardin
My ears perk up. “Should I bring weapons?”
Ryder shakes his head slowly. “Nah, Pistol Annie.” His voice is wry. “Why don’t you leave the firearms to me for now? Let’s head down.”
We ride the elevator to the lobby level and Ryder exits before me. I’m used to his ever-cautious nature now, even though the casual passerby wouldn’t think much of it. He acts like a protective boyfriend looking out for the girl he cares about. Another flutter floats through my stomach, and I place a hand over it, a firm reminder that isn’t true. We aren’t a couple, and he doesn’t care about me.
This is a job for Thorn Ryder, nothing more. And for me, this is a matter of survival.
We pass the building’s luxurious fitness center and sauna before pushing through the double glass doors leading to the pool area. A satisfied smile lifts my lips as I survey my surroundings. The pool, a long rectangular sea of blue, is surrounded by coral-cushioned lounge chairs and white accent tables. The pristine white building is the backdrop, with majestic palmettos leaning and swaying in the breeze surrounding the entire area.
“Wow,” I murmur. “This looks like a place celebrities would hang out.”
There are a few residents lounging on chairs and some swimming laps or sitting in the pool, but the area isn’t crowded. Probably because it’s a weekday at eleven a.m.
Ryder leads us to a couple of lounge chairs and sets down his bag. He lifts a brow under his sunglasses as I lose my cover-up. I feel his gaze burning into my skin, hot like fire singeing into my flesh, but I don’t turn to look at him as I reach into my bag and grab my sunscreen.
Parking myself on the chair, I apply the cream to my legs and do my best to ignore the man sitting beside me. But it’s not more than a minute before my eyes wander toward him, my gaze drawn to his body as he grabs his T-shirt from behind his neck and pulls it off over his head. Rivulets of hard, corded muscle on display, miles of tanned skin highlighting vines of beautiful ink that decorate his arms.
I’ve never been attracted to men with tattoos. It’s never been my thing. Before Eli, I always dated men who were buttoned up in polos and khakis. The student-council types in high school, and then the frat boys in college. Eli was different, but I didn’t know it at first. He put on a front that fooled everyone.
But there’s something about Thorn Ryder that speaks to my soul, way deep down inside me. In a place I keep hidden. Especially now, when I’m trying to build a life on my own, without Eli, or any man for that matter. I have other priorities in my life now.
“You haven’t been around a lot of guys with ink, have you?”
Ryder’s voice makes me jump about a mile in the air, because my covert spying apparently wasn’t that covert at all.
Finished applying my sun block, I settle in my chair and close my eyes. “I haven’t, actually. How’d you know?”
A low chuckle makes its way to my ears. “It’s written all over your face when you check me out.”
My eyes pop right back open again. “Excuse me. I wasn’t checking you out. I was merely curious about the art on your body, that’s all. Did you get them randomly, or do they have meaning?”
Ryder’s quiet for a few minutes, and my eyes drift closed again. He doesn’t speak for so long, I think he’s not going to answer me at all.
But finally, he says, “They all mean something. I don’t have anything on my body I didn’t think long and hard about.”
I nod. Because when it comes to Ryder, that doesn’t surprise me. He doesn’t strike me as an impulsive type of guy.
“Well, they’re beautiful. Really. I’d like to know more about them one day.” Propping one foot up beside the opposite knee, I squirm until I’m settled into the soft cloth of my chair.
Ryder leans back also, but he doesn’t close his eyes. I can see them, behind his sunglasses, darting around periodically from one direction to the other, all around the pool area. Keeping watch.
“One day,” he murmurs, “maybe I’ll tell you.”
“What do you usually do when you’re at the pool?” I flip a hand toward the water.
He glances toward the ocean-blue topaz liquid and then back at me, eyebrow lifted in question.
“I mean,” I continue, “I feel like I’m holding you back. I know you’re my protection detail. But you’re an ex-SEAL, right? Don’t you, like, live in the water or something? Don’t let me stop you. I’m safe here, right? Take a swim.”
Ryder sits up, his motions deliberate as he plants both bare feet onto the patio between his chair and mine. Leaning forward, he flicks his sunglasses onto the top of his head, and I’m suddenly met with the intense pressure of his blue eyes bearing into mine.
“First of all,” he begins, “my priority is you. I’m not on vacation right now. If you’re lounging, I’m lounging. And my eyes are wide open for any threats that could occur while you’re sitting in that chair.”
My mouth opens, but when I can’t think of a reply, it closes again.
He reaches forward and pulls my sunglasses off my face so that he can see my eyes. “Second,” he continues, “I do want to get in the pool today. So don’t plan on lounging in that chair forever. If you don’t get up on your own, I might be throwing you in.”
A yelp makes its way free from my throat. “You wouldn’t.”
Ryder, a satisfied smirk plastered on his lips, leans back in his chair and props both knees up. “I would. I don’t make idle threats, Pistol Annie.”
An hour and a half later, the sandwiches Ryder ordered on his phone app arrive. I sink my teeth gratefully into my turkey and cheese on rye and moan in delight. Sunning yourself takes a lot out of you.
Sitting cross-legged on my lounge chair, I lean over my foam container and take another large bite of my sandwich. After swallowing I glance over at Ryder. “How’s yours?”
Ryder ordered a club sandwich on white bread. It’s the biggest sandwich I’ve ever seen, and he’s torn into it like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. With every second I spend with this guy, the little things about him continue to prove how much of a man he is. Which is ridiculous. I mean, seriously. The food he eats?
Who the hell cares?
But for some reason, I do.
He glances over at me, grinning as he chews, giving me the thumbs-up signal.
I want to throw my hands up in the air, but then I’d lose my sandwich and that’s not an option.
Inside my bag, my phone dings with a text message. Placing my sandwich back in its container, I dig through my bag until I find the burner phone.
Scanning the screen, I take note of the sender. When I open the text, my stomach turns to Jell-O as a photo appears. A breath escapes my lungs and I lose myself in the image on the screen. The photo that I asked Lo to send me this morning is exactly what I needed today, even though we normally don’t send them. Reading the text that comes along with it, I don’t notice that Ryder is watching me.
“Everything okay?”
I jump at the sound of his voice.
“Uh, yeah. Everything is fine.”
I glance at Ryder, who’s watching me with careful scrutiny. “Who’s texting you?”
Because of the job he’s doing right now, the question isn’t unusual. But the skin on my arms prickles in irritation just the same. “It’s no one, Ryder. None of your concern.”
He doesn’t answer, but the disapproval he can’t hide hits me full force from his lounge chair.
We finish our sandwiches in silence. When I crumple up my napkin and toss it in my container, Ryder reaches over and grabs my empty box and carries it over to the trash can.
When he returns, he bypasses his lounger and parks himself on mine, facing me with one leg on either side of the chair. The intensity in his eyes doesn’t allow me to avoid his stare.
“If there’s something you need to tell me, Frannie, now’s the time. I’m here for you, but I can’t do this job unless I’m clued all the way in. You understand that?”
I nod autom
atically. “I get it. I have nothing to hide.”
He doesn’t move, studying my face with some deep emotion I can’t read until he gets whatever answer he was looking for. With a slight shake of his head, he pushes himself off my chair and into a standing position. Holding out a hand, he gestures toward me. “Let’s go.”
I suck in a breath. “Go where?”
“Your lounging time is up. I’m about to toss you into this pool. Let’s see if you can swim, Pistol Annie.”
With a startled yelp, I try to exit my lounger in the opposite direction of Ryder. But he grabs me around the middle, pulls me against his warm, solid chest, and lifts me off my feet. Instead of throwing me into the pool, he cradles me to his chest and jumps in with me tucked against him.
Water covers my face as I hold my breath, and when I come up I gasp in a deep lungful of air. The first thing I notice is Ryder’s deep chuckle. The second thing is that he’s still holding me tight to his chest.
The third is that every ounce of my body is heated and turned on, and it’s all because of the man in entirely too close proximity to me.
Alarm bells begin to ring inside my head. Attraction from a distance is one thing. Looking at Ryder across the room and knowing he looks good is all fine, but flirting up close and personal is a different story.
There was a time, not so long ago, when I was attracted to Eli. I actually thought he was a good man. How bad was my judgment?
I haven’t been attracted to a man since then, and I’m not ready to start now.
I can’t allow this to happen.
“Hey.” Ryder’s voice in my ear brings me out of the silent panic I’ve slipped into. “What’s going on, Frannie? You just went all tense on me.”
He moves in the water, towing me to the side of the pool and then coming around to my front so he can look in my eyes.
I shake my head, words failing me. “I…you’re going to think I’m insane.”
He nods seriously. “Maybe.”
Laughter bubbles up inside me, and I shove a small wall of water at him. “Ryder!”
He grins. “I’m kidding. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
The tension broken, I take a deep breath. “I just…haven’t been up close to a man like that since Eli. And it brings back all kinds of unpleasant memories with me that are hard to beat back in the moment sometimes.”
Ryder goes still. “I scared you?”
Slowly, I nod. “Not in the way you’re thinking, and I know you didn’t do it on purpose. But being close to you in general scares me. I’m messy, Ryder.”
He holds my gaze, the intensity in his full of nothing but truth. “I can handle messy. I never want to scare you, Frannie. If it ever happens again, I want you to tell me so I can adjust. Let’s open the lines of communication here, okay?”
A smile curls my lips upward as my heart squeezes inside my chest. Those words never would have come out of Eli’s mouth. “Okay.”
He slowly reaches out, his hand hovering beside my cheekbone with his thumb. “Can I touch you at all?”
His voice, low and rough, reaches inside me to a place no one’s been for a very long time.
My skin heats as a blush flames in my cheeks. “I-I think so. How about I let you know if it’s ever too much?”
Ryder nods, the backs of his knuckles barely grazing against my flushed skin. “I can handle that.”
7
RYDER
I’m not the serious-relationship guy. I’ve had my share of women in my life, but when I’m done spending a few nights with them, a few weeks max, I’m done. I’m ready to move on. Commitment isn’t my thing. I’m not so far out of touch with my own fucked-up emotional state that I don’t realize it’s because I haven’t dealt with everything that happened with my sister all those years ago. The last thing I want to do is get involved with someone, really involved, and have them yanked from my life the way Echo was.
Just the thought of it makes me want to puke. And if I really allow myself to think about letting a woman into my life and her not trusting me the same way Echo failed to trust me…well, I just can’t deal with it. The entire reason I lost Echo was because she didn’t trust me with her secrets. If she had told me about her drug addiction, she might be alive today.
But I also can’t deny how good it felt, jumping into the pool with Frannie in my arms. Something happens to me when I think about the way Eli treated her. When I think about how emotionally scarred she still is, a year later, because of it. I don’t want him to have a hold on her. And as I spend time with her, I have to wonder if that has anything to do with me wanting a chance to prove to her that all men aren’t like him.
But that’s not what I want, is it?
Shit. My head is fucked when it comes to her. This assignment has me spinning.
Frannie’s sweet drawl catches my attention, and I focus all of my attention on her.
“You’re like a fish.” She pulls herself up onto the side of the pool, allowing her legs to dangle in the water.
She smiles down at me, those blue eyes sparkling.
Flipping onto my back, I stroke past her, letting my fingertips brush her legs slightly. “Not a fish, a SEAL.”
“That’s kind of badass, Ryder.”
My arms cut through the water, carrying me to her side. Spreading my arms out against the side of the pool, I lean my head back and look at her. “It was hard work to get there. But once I was a SEAL, I loved every second of it. Kind of like how I think you feel about being a nurse.”
The corner of her pretty mouth tips up and she bumps my shoulder with her knee. The contact sends sparks of electricity tingling down my arm. “You get me, Ryder.”
Bumping her back, I savor the sound of her light laughter.
“It seems like you’ve let loose today. Is that a normal thing for you, Frannie?”
She sucks in a breath, chest rising and falling, and I allow myself to be distracted by the movement as her breasts push against the top of her bikini.
Her lower lip pulls between her teeth. “I guess not. Not really. There’s a lot on my plate right now, you know? And fun isn’t a part of that equation.”
“Because of Ward?”
She nods, and her pretty blue eyes shutter momentarily. “Among other things.”
“What other things?”
Her shoulders stiffen at the same time her expression shuts down. “Just work and trying to keep myself afloat as a single woman in a new town without a support system around me. It’s been a hard year for me.”
Sliding closer, I use my stare to force those clear eyes to focus on mine. “What aren’t you telling me, sweetheart?”
Her tongue darts out, swiping across her full bottom lip. My eyes follow the route it takes, and I lean a little closer because damn if I don’t want to follow that path with my own tongue. But I can’t, and I need to remember that.
“Nothing,” she whispers. Her voice is hoarse, like she’s reacting to my closeness. And I hope to hell she is, because being this close to her is causing all kinds of reactions in me that I shouldn’t be having.
This is supposed to be a job, not a playdate. And yet…
“Nah. There’s something. And if I’m going to do my job to the best of my ability”—I lean in until my lips are only a breath from hers—“I need to know what you’re keeping from me. You can trust me, Frannie.”
She glances down and I follow her gaze; water glistens on her skin. Her voice is quiet. “Trust isn’t something I have a lot of to give, Ryder.”
Something inside me deflates. Of course she doesn’t offer her trust easily, and after what she’s been through, can I blame her?
“Maybe not. But we’ll get there.”
She looks up, a question burning in her eyes. “Why do you want to?”
It’s a question I’m asking myself too. Frannie sparks something in me that’s been quiet for a long, long time. She makes me want something for myself that I never thought was possible.
Slowly, so I don’t scare her, I reach up to stroke my knuckles across her cheek. Just the lightest touch. Her eyes latch onto mine.
“Because,” I answer, “your trust matters to me.”
The urge to pull myself up toward her, to claim her mouth as mine is too strong. And if she were any other woman, I’d steal this moment and do exactly that.
Instead, I let my hand drop and pull away. Then I grab her hand and tug her down into the pool, enjoying the sound of her squeal as the water covers her.
This afternoon will be about fun for Frannie, and building the trust between us.
Everything else can wait.
“Can I pick the movie?” Frannie’s tone is hopeful, her forehead puckered as her brows lift.
Frannie and I had a repeat performance of yesterday, lounging this morning and afternoon by the pool. When I suggested we choose a movie and spend the rest of the day on the couch with a few snacks, she didn’t object.
I round the kitchen island with a bowl of popcorn in one hand. Frannie’s set out a plate of brownies on the coffee table already. I put the bowl down as I join her on the couch.
“You pick, and I get one veto.”
She sighs. “I guess that’s fair.”
She scrolls through the options, and I take in her profile. We both showered after the pool, and her hair’s pulled up into one of those messy buns on top of her head. Her legs are bare in a pair of gray shorts, and one shoulder peeks out of her oversized T-shirt. She’s not even making a little bit of an effort right now with her appearance, and she looks fucking beautiful.
Goddamn.
I’m wondering how the hell I’m going to sit on the couch and focus on a movie with this woman.
“Found one!” Frannie turns triumphant eyes my way, and I already know I’m not going to exercise my veto.
I’m going to agree to whatever fucking movie she picks because those big blue eyes are damn hard to say no to.
