by K. Street
My cheeks flushed as a memory surfaced from the night we’d spent together long ago. From what I recalled, Ryder did in fact lick people, and he did it incredibly well.
The way he looked at me, like he knew exactly what I was thinking, caused the temperature in the room to feel much hotter than it had seconds before.
Ryder tore his eyes from mine. “Turtle, dude. Come on. Give Presley a break.”
The dog ignored his master in favor of affection.
Ryder snapped his fingers and commanded, “Turtle. Come.”
This time, the dog obeyed and went to Ryder’s side.
“Can we go swimming now?”
“Not yet. I’m going to show Presley where the bathroom is before I put my trunks on.”
“Oookaaay.” Zeke dragged the syllables out. “Can I watch TV?”
“For a few minutes.” Ryder reached for the remote, pulling something up on Netflix for him before passing Zeke the remote. “We’ll be right back.”
Ryder extended his hand to me.
I placed my palm in his, allowing him to pull me up from my seat. “Thanks.”
Turning, I retrieved my bag and pivoted back to Ryder. “Lead the way.”
He led me down the hall, pointing out the rooms as we passed them before he stopped outside a pair of French doors at the end of the corridor.
“I figured you might want to change in here.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I cleaned Zeke’s bathroom this morning, but knowing him, there’s probably toothpaste on the counter and underwear on the floor.”
I laughed. “No worries.”
He opened the door to his room, and I followed him inside.
“Wow,” I muttered, surprised once more by the decor.
A king-size platform bed with a charcoal upholstered headboard and muted gray bedding anchored the space. Positioned on the wall above the bed was a gorgeous abstract painting. Strokes of red amid the black and gray in the canvas as well as the deep red tufted area rug gave the space a pop of color.
“Your home is beautiful.”
He looked a little embarrassed. “I can’t take all the credit. I bought the house when I was twenty-two—”
“Wait,” I interrupted him. “How does a twenty-two-year-old buy a house?”
He shrugged. “I started working when I was thirteen. Mowing lawns, stuff like that. By the time I was fifteen, I was selling my artwork at local fairs. Smaller pieces mostly. Dad was an aircraft mechanic. My grandfather had a few old cars. Pop was always tinkering with them, and he taught me to weld. There were plenty of spare parts, so …” He trailed off.
I stared at him. Completely awestruck.
He looked around the room. “This place was in foreclosure and had been sitting on the market for a while. I was able to drop a huge down payment, and my parents cosigned on the remaining mortgage since being self-employed made financing approval difficult. Then, Dad helped me fix the place up, and Mom had a knack for interior design.”
“They sound amazing.”
“They were.”
A look of pain flitted across his face and then disappeared just as quickly.
I wanted to pull him into me and wrap my arms around him.
I took a step in his direction but stopped short when he spoke, “Anyway, the master bath is through there.” He indicated the space beyond the alcove. “It’s the second door on the left.”
“All right. Thanks.”
“I’m going to grab a pair of trunks and go change in the guest room.”
“I can go change in there. Really. I don’t want to put you out.”
He closed the distance between us. “I like the idea of you in my space, Presley.”
With one hand, Ryder cupped my face with his palm. His green eyes bore into my brown ones. Light poured in through the open blinds, catching the glints of gold in his irises.
God, he really is beautiful.
Ryder slowly swept the pad of his thumb over my cheek.
A barely audible whimper reverberated in my throat.
He brought that same thumb lower, dragging it across my bottom lip.
He was close enough that I felt the warmth of his breath ghost over my lips each time he exhaled.
Our gazes locked.
My breath hitched.
And I waited.
Twelve
Ryder
Gorgeous brown eyes held mine captive. I needed to kiss her. Needed it more than my next breath.
I lowered my mouth and brushed my lips over hers, tasting sweet mint.
Her tortoise shell–framed glasses were hot as hell, but right now, I wanted nothing more than to rid her of them, crush my mouth against hers, and taste her properly.
Before I had a chance, Zeke yelled from the living room, “You are taking so long.”
I groaned.
Presley’s easy, melodic laugh hit my ears.
“I guess that’s our cue.”
“Cockblocked by my kid brother,” I muttered.
I took solace in knowing years down the road, payback would be a bitch.
Presley rose onto her tiptoes, pecked a kiss on my lips, and then patted my chest. “Rain check.”
Once she was safely tucked in my bathroom, I grabbed my trunks and headed down the hall.
When I finished changing, I went into the living room. “All right, dude. Let’s swim.”
“What about Presley?”
“She’s changing. She’ll be out in a minute.” I turned off the television.
Zeke ran to the doors that led to the pool with Turtle on his heels.
I slid one side of the glass pocket doors open and stepped out onto the deck. After I coated Zeke in sunblock, I unlatched the safety fence surrounding the pool.
“I like your bathin’ suit.” Zeke’s voice came from behind me.
The vision of Presley standing on my deck nearly knocked me on my ass.
Her one-piece solid black bathing suit clung to her curves. The teasing glimpse of her cleavage sent blood rushing to my dick.
“He isn’t the only one.” I grinned.
A deep blush painted Presley’s cheeks.
She embarrassed easily. A fact I found endearing.
“Thank you, gentlemen.”
“What’s a general man?”
“Gentlemen,” Presley corrected. “It’s someone who is well mannered and polite.”
Zeke tugged on Presley’s hand. “Come on, Presley.”
“One second, sweet boy. I need to take off my glasses.”
He let go of her hand and turned to me. “Can I get in now?”
“Sure, bud.”
“Presley, watch me.”
Zeke went to the deep end of the pool, jumped in, and swam to the shallow end. He broke the surface and then wiped his eyes. “Did you saw me?”
Presley took off her glasses. “I did see you. You’re a super-good swimmer.”
I moved toward her and held out my hand. “Here. I’ll put them on the kitchen counter.”
She placed them on my palm and nodded her head in Zeke’s direction. “He’s a great swimmer.”
“Years of swim lessons.”
“Did you teach him?”
“No. Not at first. Mom enrolled him in lessons when he was old enough to walk. After … I made sure he kept up with them.”
The way she looked at me, like I’d hung the moon, it was almost more than I could take.
“I’m going to put these inside and grab a few things from the kitchen.”
I went indoors, set her glasses down, and opened the fridge. Reaching inside, I grabbed the platter of snacks I had thrown together earlier. Nothing fancy. Just a little something to tide us over until dinner.
Swimming always made Zeke hungry. Lately, he had been eating everything in sight. Well, everything, except for green beans.
After I carried the food outside to the patio table, I went back in for the lemonade, a few Solo cups, and some napkins.
I poured a cup of l
emonade for each of us, leaving Zeke’s on the table and taking Presley’s over to where she sat at the edge of the pool near the shallow end.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
My eyes went to the opposite end of the pool, where Zeke was standing, the dog sitting next to him.
“Are you ready, Turtle?” Zeke asked.
The dog barked.
“One. Two. Three.”
On three, Zeke dived into the water, and Turtle followed suit in a canine-versus-kid race.
Presley grinned. “That is the sweetest thing ever.” Her eyes found mine. “How did you come to name your dog Turtle anyway?”
“When he was a puppy, he loved to hide under everything. Blankets. A discarded T-shirt. A towel on the bathroom floor. He would nip and tug the material around himself until he fashioned a sort of shell, and then he’d tuck his head inside his makeshift cave.”
“Like a turtle.”
“Exactly.”
“Aww. Now, who’s the adorable one?” she asked, using my word from earlier.
I scoffed, “Adorable?”
She took a long drink of her lemonade and then set the plastic cup on the deck beside her before tossing a playful smile my way. “Uh-huh.”
I set my cup on the deck, dropped into the pool, and met her eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
Presley held her fingers about an inch apart. “Maybe a little.”
“Is that right?” I hauled her into my arms.
“Ryder!” Presley squealed.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist in an attempt to save herself. “I take it back.”
“It’s too late for that, beautiful.”
I skipped my fingers along her rib cage, tickling her.
She squirmed and giggled while pleading her case. Her grip loosened, and I tossed her into the air.
Presley landed in the deep end with a splash.
Turtle darted back and forth on the deck, barking his foolish head off.
“Do me. Do me,” Zeke demanded, arms wide.
I scooped him up. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“One. Two.” I launched him into the water.
When Zeke popped above the surface, Presley was already wiping the water from her face.
She swam over to Zeke and whispered something in his ear. Then, they were headed straight for me.
“Oh no, you don’t.” I captured them both, making them laugh.
The melodic sound created a symphony, cracking open that impenetrable place inside me.
After we got out of the pool, we changed into dry clothes, and I made dinner. When we finished dessert, Zeke roped us into playing a few rounds of one of those matching games.
He repeatedly flipped over the same card, trying to find its mate.
“Ugh,” Zeke groaned. “I’m being tortured by a beaver.”
Presley’s eyes met mine over Zeke’s head, and we both busted out laughing.
Zeke didn’t get the double entendre but laughed anyway.
On his next turn, he matched the beaver to the dam.
“Finally,” he shouted.
We tallied up our matches.
“I won. I won,” Zeke chanted while he did his victory dance around the living room.
I gave him a high five. “Great job, little dude. Time to brush your teeth and get ready for bed.”
“Oh man.”
“Go on. I’ll be there to tuck you in, in just a minute.”
“Come on, Turtle.”
The dog rose from his spot on the floor and followed Zeke down the hall.
Presley started cleaning up the game pieces. “He’s a really great kid.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
She got to her feet. “I should probably go.”
“No. You shouldn’t.” I stood and then stepped into her space. Lifting my hand, I skimmed my thumb over her bottom lip. “I believe I made you a promise. One I haven’t had a chance to make good on just yet.”
Heat flared in her brown irises, turning them to pools of molten chocolate.
Before I had the chance to take her mouth, Zeke reappeared in the living room, dressed in his pajamas.
“Ryder?”
I inwardly groaned at being cockblocked again. The kid had to have some sort of internal radar or some shit.
Dropping my hand, I took a step back from Presley and turned my attention to my brother. “What’s up, dude?”
He averted his gaze. “Is it okay if Presley reads me my bedtime story?”
His question hit me square in the chest like a battering ram.
The loss of our parents hadn’t marred him in the same way it had me. He had been too young when it happened. Zeke was the kind of kid who loved unabashedly. He never held back in fear of exposing his heart.
I shifted my gaze and met Presley’s stare.
The heat from seconds ago had been replaced by hope and adoration. Her eyes silently begged for approval.
I nodded and watched as she lowered herself to eye-level with Zeke.
She tenderly smoothed his hair off his forehead. “I would love to read you a story,” she told him. Then, she placed her palm out and waited.
Zeke put his hand in hers, and together, they set off for his bedroom.
Knowing Zeke, he would talk Presley into more than one story, so I took a few minutes to clean the kitchen and refill Turtle’s water bowl. Then, I folded the towels that had been in the dryer for two days and put them away.
On the way back, I stopped just outside Zeke’s bedroom door.
Presley finished the story about a little boy and a carrot seed.
I leaned against the wall, eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Wow. That is a giant carrot.”
“It is. That little boy had a lot of patience.”
“What does that mean?”
“Patience means you work hard. You keep trying, and you never give up. No matter what.”
“Giving up is for quitters. We are not quitters. That is what Ryder says.”
“Your big brother is pretty smart.”
“He is just a little bit smart. I am a lotta bit smart.”
Presley snorted. “I bet you are.”
A smile tipped the corners of my mouth as I nudged the door open and entered the room.
Presley and Zeke were positioned against the headboard of the twin-size bed. Her arm was around his shoulders, and he was nestled into her side. Those sexy fucking glasses perched on her nose.
“All right, little dude. It’s bedtime.”
“Okay.” He yawned.
I glanced at Presley. “I’ll be out in just a minute.”
“I’ll see you later, kiddo.” She ruffled Zeke’s hair.
“Wait. Don’t leave.” Zeke’s gaze shifted from Presley to me. “We hafta pray first.”
“You want Presley to pray with us?”
“Uh-huh.”
Praying together at the conclusion of the day was so much more than a bedtime ritual. It served as a connection to our parents. An invisible tether that couldn’t be severed, not by the passing of time or even death.
If Zeke wanted her to stay, I certainly wasn’t going to tell him no. More than that, I realized I wanted her here. That fact alone should have terrified me, but it didn’t, and that was the truly scary thing.
Not knowing what her stance on religion or what God she believed in, if any, I asked, “Do you want to stay?”
“I’d like that,” she softly replied.
I crossed the room, stepping over Turtle, who was lying at the foot of the bed, and sat on the few inches of available mattress.
“Fold your hands like me.” Zeke interlocked his fingers. “Now, shut your eyes.” His lashes fluttered closed.
I exchanged a grin with Presley.
Zeke scrunched his face and opened one eye. “Umm, guys, I see your eyeballs.”
Presley bit her lip to keep f
rom laughing.
“Close them. I will check.” Zeke waggled his finger at us.
We obeyed the little dictator.
“That’s better. Okay. Now I lay me down to sleep …” Zeke started.
The three of us recited the prayer, concluding it with an amen.
Presley stood and then leaned down, dropping a kiss to the top of my little brother’s head. “Sweet dreams, Zeke.”
“Good night.”
She replaced the book on the shelf and exited the room, leaving the two of us alone.
I got to my feet. “Bring it in.”
Zeke stood and then bounced into my waiting embrace.
He wrapped his small arms around my neck and squeezed.
“Love you, kid,” I told him, hugging him back.
“Love you bigger.”
I pulled down the covers and tucked him in, planting a kiss on his forehead.
On my way to the door, I scratched Turtle behind his ear. “Stay, boy.”
The sound he made seemed like the canine version of a sigh.
“Hey, Ryder?”
With one hand grasping the doorknob, I tossed a look over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I like Presley.”
“Me too, kid. Me too.”
I flicked off the light, left the door slightly ajar, and went in search of her.
As soon as I rounded the corner, I spotted her.
Presley stood in front of the glass doors with her back to me, staring into the night.
Her long brown hair had been pulled to the side, cascading over one shoulder, leaving the other exposed.
She smiled when she caught my reflection.
I slipped my arms around her waist from behind.
She leaned into me, letting me hold her.
Having her in my arms like this felt right.
I lifted my hand and slowly glided the pad of my thumb down her neck, across her shoulder, and then along her bare arm.
Gooseflesh pebbled her skin.
We held one another’s stare in the glass.
“Do you have any idea how stunning you are?”
“Stunning, huh?”
Her question didn’t surprise me as much as her quiet, hopeful tone.
I turned her in my arms, needing to look at her instead of her reflection. “You’re extraordinary, Presley.”
“You’re too kind.”
