by E L Irwin
Ryler heard the stairs creak as AJ came back down, and he prepared himself, taking a deep breath before he turned to face her.
Her short hair was damp, her skin was flushed, and there was a warmth in her eyes. Her clothes were nondescript, sweats of some kind, but they, she, inflamed him. Her shoulder was bare, where the neckline had slipped, revealing her rose tattoo. Ryler drew in a long, slow breath. How did she do it? How did this little person turn him so inside out? He wanted every last part of her. And as he took her in, he saw something flicker in her gaze. Something unsure, uncertain, wary. She worried her lower lip for a moment, and he felt his breath catch.
Pain flashed in her eyes, and Ryler remembered why she’d been gone, what had happened. He recalled the last time they’d been together, what he’d said to her. And he chastised himself for forgetting, but she did that to him. AJ had him twisted and tangled, and he wondered if she even knew it. As that pain flared again, he promised himself that he’d take it away, that he’d keep her safe, and that no one would hurt her again.
He’d have to be cautious, careful with her. And if he was being honest, careful with himself as well. This couldn’t be rushed. He’d have to take his time. And that eager part of himself, the part that wanted to breech the walls of her heart, rebelled at the idea. Slow? Careful? Cautious? That part howled in frustration. Ever the rebel, he chided himself. But as she stood there waiting, he turned toward her, Shiv and the open door forgotten, and moved in her direction. He felt the absolute rightness of what he was doing now. And that other part of him relaxed, knowing he was going to succeed. Knowing he was going to get what he wanted. Long live the rebel, Ryler thought as he reached her side.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Caution Tape
A cautious kind of light was in Ryler’s gaze as he approached me. As I studied him, studied his eyes closely, I realized the heat, that fire was still there, but it was tempered, controlled. This was a far cry from the murder I’d seen there earlier and wondered what had changed for him. Caution tape, I suddenly thought. Our relationship was wreathed in caution tape.
His eyes searched mine thoroughly, looking for some indication of what I wanted, of how I wanted him to proceed. Problem was, I didn’t know what I wanted. Not exactly. Like, I wanted him to kiss me; I wanted his mouth on mine. I wanted him to take me in his arms. I wanted him to hold me. But, more than those things, I wanted him to stay, to not run away again, and just stay. With me. I wanted that safety, that confidence in him, in us.
But Ryler was being cautious. And I didn’t know what that meant. Would this be another embrace, full of fire and passion, only to have him retreat, leaving me cold, leaving me wanting? Because I didn’t want that. No, what I wanted was to rip through that tape and stride right in. But caution tape has its uses.
“Ryler.” I had to clear my throat, my voice seeming harsh in my ears, as if I hadn’t used it in a while. Figuring I should start with an apology, try to explain why I hadn’t told him I was leaving, why I hadn’t answered any of his calls and texts while I was gone. I continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls. I… I just—”
He placed a finger over my mouth, cutting me off. “Shh. We can talk about that later.” The rest of his hand joined his finger, tracing my mouth, cupping my cheek, his thumb stroking heat waves. Feeling rather like a contented feline, I leaned into his touch and tried not to purr as the tension began to fade. Welcoming that release, I simply held still, letting him do as he willed. Ryler’s other hand came up to join the first, cradling my head in his grasp. With eyes still closed, I took him in, absorbed him, let my body experience every little sensation. His touch sunk through my skin and saturated me.
Each and every little detail of him became a clear vision in my mind’s eye. Ryler’s fingers were long, but not slender. They were thick and blunt-tipped. His palms were broad, the skin rough, work-worn, and warm. There was an understated strength in him; even in his fingers there was a power, and yet, he was gentle. His touch tender, but strong. His scent, like a breeze through pine trees, like leather and something spicier, warmer, wrapped around me like a soft blanket, enveloping me inside.
He leaned into me, over me, his fingers raking softly to the back of my skull, massaging as they went, pulling me closer to him. I couldn’t have stopped the way my body arched, again cat-like, into him, into his heat. His lips, dry and ever so warm, pressed against my temple, my forehead. His breath, mint and something sharper, a caress across my already-heated skin. Slowly, he rolled my head to the side. Heat trailed as his mouth moved, tracing patterns, taking little nips, tasting.
My hands, of their own accord, had risen, gripped his hips, his waist, holding myself steady, to keep from swaying, to keep our contact. And now I slid my arms around him, pulling him closer, needing that contact. The growl that sounded deep inside him at my touch, made my stomach clench in response.
His mouth found mine then, just the softest of sensations, a light taste. Taking his time, he placed his mouth against mine again and again. At the corners. The center. He gently pulled at my lower lip, just driving me slowly insane. He was deliberate, controlled, and I was close to combustion.
Leaving my mouth once more, he moved on, still exploring. “When you were gone,” he said now against the skin of my neck; his teeth grazed gently. “When you left, it darn near stopped my heart, AJ.”
“Um…” My brain wasn’t working right. I couldn’t put actual thoughts together. Nothing but the sensations he was creating in me were registering. I barely knew which way was up. There was only him. Only his mouth, only his hands on me.
“Never again, AJ.” His teeth gently tugged, raking, trailing fire, nipping more sharply than before.
His words were taking effect. My brain was firing again. “You said…” I swallowed, trying to bring further clarity. “…you said you needed space, that you weren’t ready.”
He pulled back to meet my eyes. “I don’t think I want space anymore.”
“What do you want?” My voice barely more than a breathy whisper.
“You,” he rumbled against my skin. “I think I just want you, AJ.”
My heart galloped at those words, making my head light, and the room tilt. But as I sucked in a deep breath, and oxygen hit my brain, that longed-for clarity came with it. “I… Ryler, I think that sounds amazing, but… but there’s this thing, with Mrs. Carson. With identifying her killer. And, and I’m not sure what I’m doing yet, and—”
Ryler kissed me quickly, cutting off my ramble. “We’ll figure it out, AJ,” he said after a moment against my mouth.
“Why?” I needed to know. “What changed your mind?”
He studied me silently for a moment before clenching his jaw and muttering, “You were gone. And I couldn’t reach you, couldn’t talk with you. And… I didn’t like it.”
“That’s what changed your mind, Ryler? Me being gone?”
“Does it really matter, AJ? Isn’t it enough to know that I don’t want to lose you again?”
“I don’t know.” I pulled back, trying for a little space between us so I could think better. “Ryler, I just don’t know, and right now I’m not sure I’m in an emotionally stable place to figure it out. I need to solve Mrs. Carson’s death, find out who is responsible and why.”
“Fair enough. But I’ll be right here. I meant what I said to that detective. No one is getting close to you. I’ve got you covered.”
“Thanks.” Stepping back, I took a deep breath and shook my head.
Ryler let me go only so far but then he followed, backing me into the wall. I had nowhere else to go. He placed one hand on either side of me, and waited for me to meet his gaze. His blue-gray eyes were molten, sparks fairly shooting from them.
“We’ll figure this out, AJ. I promise.”
“All right,” I ducked beneath his arm, knowing full-well that he was letting me get away. “That, uh… that sounds good. But I’ve got some work to do now, so… I guess I’ll see you l
ater, then.”
The look in Ryler’s eyes was amusement. That was disconcerting to say the very least. In consternation, I watched him move back toward the chair where he’d been sitting when I first got here. “Um, what are you doing?”
“You said you needed to work.”
“Yes, I did. And I will. But what are you doing?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious. I’m sitting down. Now you can go work.”
“I-I can’t work with you here, Ryler!”
“Why not? You won’t even know I’m here.”
“I will know you’re here.”
“How? I won’t bother you.”
“I just will. Now will you please quit messing around and just go?”
“Nah, I’m pretty comfortable right here, AJ. You just go on and do what you need to do.”
Making a frustrated, strangled sound in my throat, I clenched my jaw and stomped my way back upstairs. Slamming my bedroom door, I continued stomping, just to get my point across, all the way to my desk and flipped open my laptop. Ugh! Why? Like I had time for this. Fine, whatever. I needed to focus. He could stay down there for all I cared. I hope he gets a cramp in his butt.
After opening my email, I skimmed through my messages. Not seeing anything pressing that needed my immediate attention, I opened my blog and read the comment from Amber. It certainly sounded like she’d had something to do with Mrs. Carson’s death. You shouldn’t have pushed me; this is all your fault. And you can’t hide from me. You should have stayed put.
Pain and anger mixed in my chest, as I worked to hold back the moisture in my eyes. I hated that someone had done this to Mrs. Carson. That guilt washed over me again, and I found it difficult to breathe. Making a split decision, I quickly typed a reply to her. Maybe I’d get lucky and she’d slip up and give herself away.
Amber, are you saying that you had something to do with this? I typed and hit send. I guessed now it was just a waiting game.
Leaving my email, I quickly opened my Word document with my current WIP. Midnight Marine was in its first round of edits, and I needed to get those to my editor by the end of the week. I worked for a couple hours on that then began working on a new untitled project. I was surprised that Ryler being downstairs hadn’t bothered me, surprised that he hadn’t come upstairs to check on me. In fact, I wasn’t even sure that he was still down there, it was so quiet. Maybe he’d gotten bored and gone on home.
Deciding I needed a break, I tiptoed to my door and listened. Hearing nothing, I opened the door as quietly as possible, and feeling very much like an idiot, peered down the stairs. I didn’t see anything. He’d probably left. But then I smelled something. Something delicious. And mouthwatering. And very much like food that was making my empty stomach grumble noisily.
Coming down the stairs, one careful step at a time, I found Ryler in the kitchen. My nose carried me forward. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I’d become. Now, I felt ravenous, as if I hadn’t eaten for a lifetime. The table had been set, a candle lit and placed as the centerpiece.
Ryler’s back was to me, so when he turned away from the stove, in my direction, he paused. “Hey.” He grinned hesitantly.
“Hey.” I looked around at all the pots and pans. “What’s all this?”
“I figured you’d be hungry.”
“I am. Very.” My stomach roared again, bearing witness to my hungry state.
“Sit down.” He motioned to the table. “It’s about ready. I’ll get you a plate.”
Because I was just so hungry I couldn’t think straight, I did as I was told. Moments later, Ryler brought me a steak seared to perfection, with shrimp scampi on the side. Then he brought me a knife, fork, and a napkin. Not hesitating at all, I cut into that steak. The inside was juicy and pink. And the taste. “Mmmmmgosh, this is so good.” My eyes rolled back in my head as I chewed. This may be heaven.
Ryler sat down opposite me, chuckling under his breath at my obvious enjoyment of his offering. When I was able to stop eating the steak, to breathe for half a second, I tried one of the butter-and-garlic-soaked shrimp. Another hit. It was amazing. Everything was amazing. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to lick this plate when I was done. I hadn’t known food could taste this good.
I would have liked to say that I took my time and ate like a lady, with manners, but that would be a lie. I inhaled this meal. Finally finished, I pushed back from the table, mainly so I wouldn’t be tempted to lick that plate after all. When I looked up, Ryler was watching me, a look of near-astonishment with maybe a side of admiration mixed in was on his face.
Sheepishly, I said, “So, I guess I was hungry.”
Ryler just lifted his chin in a considering sort of way, eyebrows no doubt raised at my understatement.
Offering a half-hearted shrug, I said, “You can cook for me any time, just saying.”
At that, Ryler grinned. “Good to know.”
Feeling the heat of his gaze, I looked around the room, noting the dishes that needed to be done, and yet, also seeing that he was a clean cook. From what I could see, there were no splatters all over the place, his workstation orderly. My eyes caught the entertainment magazine I’d picked up at the airport for the return flight. I’d left it sitting on the coffee table in the living room. I’d snagged this one because it’d had an exclusive interview with former Hollywood heartthrob, Asher Fitzpatrick and his wife Kate. It was one of those ‘A Day in the Life’ stories.
I’d found their story so romantic. How he’d met her by chance at a coffeeshop, and how, for him at least, it seemed to have been love at first sight. Indicating the magazine, I asked innocently, “Read anything interesting, Ryler?”
He snorted. “Maybe. That dude on the cover looks a lot like a guy I met on a mission a few years back. It was a secret retrieval mission. He’d been captured by Taliban forces, and I was a part of the team that went to get him.”
Laughing, I said, “Wait. You’re saying Asher Fitzpatrick, movie star, was captured by Taliban forces? How? When? How did I never hear about this?”
“I’m not saying it was him. I’m sure it wasn’t, just that this guy looks like that guy.”
“Yeah, ya think? He’d probably crap his pants if something like that ever happened. Could you imagine?” I couldn’t stop chuckling over the idea.
Ryler shot me a look then got up to begin cleaning the kitchen. As I stood up to assist, I was strongly reminded of the last time we’d eaten dinner here.
My pulse beat faster as I considered all that had happened, and as my mind flashed back, I paused, stopping to take the memory in. My hands held my plate, but my head held the memory of our first kiss.
Ryler turned to me, saw the look in my eyes, and carefully considered his course of action. Slowly, he took the plate from me, turning back to the sink with it. “How’d your afternoon go? Did you get much work done?”
Blinking as I came out of my thoughts, I said, “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“What did you work on?”
“I had some edits to do for Midnight Marine. And, I might have responded to the possible killer on my blog page.”
“Might have?”
“Yeah.”
“Was that wise?”
“I think so. Either way, she mentioned that I’d forced her to act, that her actions were my fault.” Taking a deep breath, I held it a moment in thought before exhaling as I continued. “I need to know if it was her or not, or if she’s just looking for attention.”
“She?” he asked as he filled up the sink with soapy water. “Your problem fan is a woman?”
“Seems to be. Her online name is Amber, at any rate.”
“You know, people can become whoever they want online. Man, woman, young, or old.”
“Yeah, I know,” I agreed as I began to dry the dishes he’d washed.
After several minutes working in silence, each lost in our own thoughts, Ryler said, “Just… just be careful. Be cautious. If your crazy fan is the one to blame, then you ne
ed to take this seriously.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I know. It’s the not knowing and the guilt that’s the hardest part.”
“I’m not arguing with that.” Ryler finished wiping down the counters and the table, my kitchen now looking spotless once more. He turned to me, leaning his back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “I just want you to be safe, AJ. I’ll do whatever is needed to assure that you are.” Ryler held a hand out to me, inviting me closer. “You’re in no danger from me; I promise.”
I took his hand and allowed him to pull me to him. He fitted me between his outspread legs and cradled me against his chest. My hands gripped his hips, liking what I was feeling. The leanness, the strength. I attempted to slide them downward, his thighs beckoning, but Ryler caught my hands, and pulled them up to his mouth. He nipped at my knuckles before following that up with his lips. “Just relax. I’m not after or offering anything other than comfort right now. We’ll take things slow and easy.”
Ryler pulled my head against his chest, resting his cheek at my crown. And then he just held me, letting me relax in his warmth. The beat of his heart under my ear was the only sound I heard, the only sound I wanted to hear.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Moose
Ryler sat at his kitchen table, images flashing through his head. This week marked five years, and normally Ryler would have headed into the wild, nothing but his rucksack and Shiv to keep him company. But AJ needed looking after. Ryler hadn’t wanted to leave her alone, especially with all that had happened and her psycho fan still a possible threat. You never knew what could happen in that kind of situation, and he’d promised that detective that he’d keep an eye on her. Be her first and last line of defense. So instead of the isolation he wanted, he forced himself to sit. To be still. To let the waves of memory hit him.
