He stepped forward and lifted her hands to inspect them. Gently, he pried them apart, taking his time to ensure he didn’t move or push on the finger he’d seen her slam the hammer over.
Up close, her thumb was red and maybe a little swollen, but considering the hammer was on the heavier side, the damage was minimal. Still…ever so slowly, he raised her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips gently to the tip of her finger. “What are you doing here?” he asked, gesturing to the variety of projects on the patio with a flick of his chin.
“I should ask you the same thing.”
He locked eyes with her, everything inside him loosening and tightening all at once. Her presence did that to him—confused the shit out of him. “I’m kissing your injured finger,” he said, pinching back a smile. “Don’t worry, I do it with all my employees.”
She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face so intently like she was looking for the answer to a question. Her lips parted, tongue glided across them, and goddamn, did she know how sexy thinking like that made her?
He let her stare. Let her soak him in. He wanted her to have that piece of him.
“I’ve been here all day,” she eventually said, watching as he pressed his mouth against the part of her thumb that was beginning to swell even more. Her thumb wasn’t broken, but she’d definitely have a nasty bruise. “After I freaked out last night—which I’m sorry about. I hope I didn’t…” She glanced down to the front of his jeans. “Um…leave you with something blue. Or…technically, it’d be two things.” She shook her head. “Geez, am I really talking to you about blue balls?”
“I’ve already been warned about what comes out of your mouth.”
A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Anyway, when I got home, my dog brought me a paintbrush, and it gave me the idea that maybe I could help you fix up the bar to bring in more customers. So here I am. Doing that.”
Ryan waited and waited, but the feeling that Sailor was up to something didn’t come. And neither did the resentment toward her. He rocked back on his heels. “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.” But here she was, spending her day helping him and his business out. The thought warmed him from the inside out. Not only was Sailor different than every other woman he’d been with, she was slowly becoming his addiction.
“I brought some things for the inside, too—lights to brighten the bar, and I had this idea that maybe we could project old black-and-white movies onto the wall. It might give the place a different atmosphere and draw in a new crowd on your typical slow nights…” Her words trailed off as she realized Ryan was staring at her. “I mean…you could do that. If you wanted. But I’d help you. I want to.”
Ryan stepped forward, clasped his hands around her head, and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I think it’s an amazing idea, Sailor. And I would love to be your assistant. If you wanted me to.”
Pink crept over the rounds of her cheeks, her smile returning. “Today must be your lucky day. Turns out, decorating is my second favorite hobby.”
Ryan tilted his head, gliding his thumb over her lower lip. He’d never admit it to her, but feeling her skin against his was undeniably becoming his favorite hobby. “Oh? And what’s your first?”
She captured his thumb with her mouth, and with painful slowness, slid her lips down and up it, pulling off with a smack. The move was erotic and sensual and had him adjusting the sudden tightness in his jeans.
Sailor grinned impishly. “Watching your eyes do that when I touch you.” Reaching into his front pocket, she retrieved his keys, and in a blink the sex-kitten act was gone, and the playful lift to her expression returned.
Silly Sailor or Sexy Sailor… Damn, he didn’t know which he preferred.
The keys rattled in front of him, a questioning tilt to Sailor’s eyes. At this angle, with the sun piercing through them, they shone a brilliant green with streaks of brown. “Light gold or dark?” she asked, gesturing to the only two keys that stood out on the ring of silver ones.
He took the appropriate key and placed it between her fingertips, purposely brushing his hand over hers. Dark gold.
“Most embarrassing moment at work,” Sailor prompted, toeing her bare feet toward the middle section of the bottle rack. She wrapped the string of lights around the metal brace and stepped again.
The questioning had started while he was placing the projector—favorite food, birthday, strangest dream—and deciding the old movies would be shown Monday through Thursdays. Small bowls of popcorn would be offered along with a specialty drink to coincide with the movie of that night. All Sailor’s ideas, and Ryan had to admit…they were brilliant. Not time-consuming or costly, but a significant enough change that might bring in more people through word of mouth.
Sailor stepped again, drawing Ryan’s attention to the perfectly shaped ass that hovered within arm’s reach above him. Denim clung tightly to the curves, throwing him into a mesmerized-by-a-beautiful-ass stupor. He couldn’t look away if he tried. If.
She cleared her throat and nudged his chest with her toe. “I’ll tell you mine. Boss ogles my behind while I try to have a normal getting-to-know-him conversation.” Straight-faced, she stared, held it for a few breaths, and then let out a giggle. “Or maybe it’s that I have something smeared all over my backside while trying to look cute in front of said boss. Please don’t tell me I have something gross on me.” Chunks of blond hair spilled over her shoulders, the tips sweeping along the edges of her bared collarbone.
He wanted to lick right there. Run his tongue over the mounds of flesh and into the valley between them—
“Ryan?”
He blinked. “Huh?” Jesus, could he not do anything around this woman without falling into a trance? He shook his head in an attempt to detach the images growing hurricane strong and chuckled. “Nothing gross,” he said. “Nothing at all. But you might need to turn around so I can check again. Get a better look.”
She grinned.
He grinned.
Yeah, he could get used to feeling this way around a woman.
For a long second, Sailor looked down at him, her eyes fading in and out of focus as if she was contemplating something. Then, ever so slowly, she pinched the hem of her shirt and scrunched it up her stomach. A smooth plain of milky skin hovered above him. She moved her hands again, lifting the shirt higher, revealing the edges of her deep plum-colored bra. Silk. Damn, there went the space in his jeans.
Balancing on one foot, she nudged him with her toe again, the look on her face smoldering.
“Last night,” he said quietly, slipping his fingers over her ankle and up, up, up her calf, “you ran out naked. And now you’re…” He met her eyes, held her gaze. “What do you want, Sailor?”
“You.” No moment to think, no drawn-out silence. Just one word, spoken with such certainty as if it’d already been on her tongue. You.
…
Her foot moved again. Or she moved it. Whatever. Being with Ryan felt good and right and made her forget all the reservations she’d had last night. This was what she wanted. Right now.
He crept his fingers up the back of her leg, warming and waking up every cell along the way, igniting them into a fiery ball that swept over her skin and buried itself low in her belly.
Why did he have to feel so good?
Ridiculously good.
Good like warm cookies. Good like the sun. Good like the way her insides opened up when she entered the floral shop and breathed in the scent of hundreds of flowers.
Her shirt hit the floor. As she reached for the clasp on her bra, the creaking sound of the door drew Ryan’s attention behind him. He turned, and the foot that’d been stabilized on his shoulder slipped, throwing her balance off center—so much that she teetered forward. One inch, two inches, three, and then it was too late. Recovery was out of reach. The weight of her upper half pulled her forward and shoved her down, and thank goodness, Ryan was standing where he was, because hitting his body had to be bet
ter than hitting the cement floor.
“Oof!” they both let out, and then the force crumpled Ryan’s body to the floor, taking Sailor with him. Arms and legs tangled, an elbow jabbed her ribs, and she gritted her teeth as the impact of the floor vibrated through Ryan’s chest.
She slammed her eyes closed and buried her head into whatever part of Ryan was available. “Is it over yet?” In her mind, the shelves of bottles tottered above them, a long second before they too would crash down. Death by something called Uncle Dick’s Top Dog? There was worse, but not much.
Ryan shifted his body, carefully lowering Sailor to the ground with his hand cradled protectively around the crown of her head. “Next time you decide to jump,” he whispered—no, growled—directly into her ear, and the primal sound of it triggered a wave of thrill bumps to push along her skin. “Warn me first, so I can catch you and look like a hero.”
“Heh-heh.” Wait, why was she letting that annoying sound spew out of her mouth? His words…next time and hero…
She wanted them.
Didn’t want them.
Why did this whole thing with Ryan have to be so confusing?
“Good news is,” she said back to him to keep her mind from running circles like little Drexie chasing his tail, “I now have a new embarrassing moment. It’s called Not-So-Sexy Girl Takes Out Her Boss. Had it been recorded, I could’ve won ten thousand dollars on one of those funniest home video shows.”
His face appeared in front of hers, an impish grin peeking out from the cover of his beard. “I do have security cameras, you know.”
She poked his chest. “Which you will never, ever watch.”
“Might be entertaining.”
“So would watching the big tough owner get beat up by a girl much smaller than him.”
He let out a chuckle, the sound glorious and chilling at the same time. He jerked forward, folded in half, and stopped nose to nose with her. He clasped his hands around her wrists and warm breath hit her face with his words. “Now that’s a beating I would be willing to endure.”
As if on cue, her body pulsed and a tingly burst shot through her core.
Then a deep voice echoed throughout the room. “Should I come back later?” She’d only been around Micah once, but that guy had the burliest voice she’d ever heard. Plus, who else would walk in when there was a closed sign in the window?
He froze. Ryan’s eyes glinted mischievously. Yes, come back later his gaze screamed. Because I have a beating to attend to. And as if to drive home the point, something hard pressed against her. Right. Between. Her. Legs.
Oh, Lordy.
“We were just decorating,” Ryan called out, rolling her shirt back to its proper place. He shimmied out from under her, stood, and offered a hand to Sailor.
“Decorating?” Micah asked, stepping farther into the room based on the heavy sound of his footsteps. “Since when do you decorate?”
“Since he hired me,” Sailor spouted, springing to her feet with the help of Ryan’s tug. Micah lingered in the center of the room, all ginormous and muscly and dressed like black was the only color he knew existed. How does his wife handle all that scariness?
She plastered on a smile, steadying herself against Ryan—shoulder to shoulder. “String lights, black-and-white movies… It’s going to be great.”
Micah eyed the room, skipping his dark gaze over the few changes they’d made so far. “Movie projector.” He glanced to Ryan, smirking. “You finally found someone to help you with that idea, huh?”
“Actually, it was my idea,” she said, her chest swelling with what had to be pride. If the atmosphere she created brought in more customers for Ryan, maybe he wouldn’t be so…grouchy when it came to the business.
“Actually,” Micah said, closing the distance between him and the bar counter, “It was Ryan’s idea a few months ago, back when I was still partner.”
Sailor swung her gaze to Ryan. “You wanted to put up a projector? Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”
Ryan ran a hand over his beard, something, Sailor realized, she’d never seen him do before. “You didn’t ask.”
“But…you never went through with the idea.” She spun and faced Ryan. “So either that means it was a complete waste or…”
“He didn’t go through with the idea,” Micah interrupted, “because I shut it down. At the time, I didn’t think it was what we needed. But, I don’t know, maybe you two are on to something. The changes outside give the place a lot more class.”
Sailor smiled. Exactly. “If girls should be classy and fabulous, I suppose bars should, too.”
Micah reached behind him and pulled a bundle of wires for the projector from his back pocket. Handing it to Ryan, the two shared a long look that ended with another smirk from Micah. “If you can refine my boy here, you might be worth keeping.”
Funny thing about that beard on Ryan’s face—it directed all attention to his eyes—and Sailor might not have seen the way they grew wider with Micah’s words otherwise.
“Help me get it wired?” was all Ryan said, but Sailor didn’t miss the way he said it through his teeth, either.
…
“Worth keeping? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?” Ryan steadied his shaking hand enough to splice the wire without shocking the shit out of himself.
Micah laughed. Again. And the sound grated against Ryan’s skin like sandpaper. “From what I saw when I walked in,” Micah said, matching the low tone of Ryan’s so Sailor couldn’t hear from across the room where she was finishing up the string lights on the bar, “you’ve already decided that.” He handed Ryan the roll of electrical tape. “And before you get your panties in a wad, I don’t mean permanently. I just meant compared to the last time I was here and you couldn’t decide if you should let her stick around. It looks like you made your decision.”
Ryan wrapped the wire with the tape, feeling like his entire body was being constricted with the wires. “I haven’t made any decision.”
Micah let out a sharp ha. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Edwards. But I know what I saw, and it definitely wasn’t a girl trying to steal the bar out from under you. I don’t know what her motive is, if she has any—”
“Making it up to her father for leaving him.” Ryan finished the wrapping and then shoved the roll of tape into his pocket and lowered his voice even more. “But because he’s not around, and I am…” He let those words trail out as he tucked the spliced wires along the backside of the projector. She was making it up to him.
Or was she?
Lately, it felt like their time together meant more. Less forced. Like maybe she enjoyed his company as much as he did hers.
“And you believe that?” Micah asked.
Some questions were easy, and this was one of them. “Without a doubt,” he responded, and Micah raised an eyebrow in question. “Look…” Ryan faced his friend, the need to explain bubbling like acid in his stomach. He didn’t want Micah thinking like Ryan had a week ago, that Sailor was only around to screw him over. “She got caught up with the wrong crowd when she was in high school and has had it really rough these last few years. She may have come in here thinking she was going to take the bar, but that’s not why she’s here now.”
“Says the dude who’s sticking up for her.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Says the person who listened to her story about what she’s been through—drug addiction, marriage to a dealer, rehab, falling off the wagon, and going to rehab again. The guilt she feels for leaving Marty is suffocating her, and if I can help her get past it, I will. I’m not a total dick.”
“Coulda fooled me.” Micah grinned, shoving his fist into Ryan’s biceps, and Ryan let out a grunt and then a sigh. Man, it felt good to get some of that out.
By the time Micah was done helping Ryan secure the projector and left to help Laurel with the baby, Sailor had finished casing the bar posts with the lights. Ryan stood in front of the bar, taking it all in. “Funny how a few stri
ngs of lights can give the place a different feel, huh?” he said to her.
Sailor turned, still standing atop the counter. Little beads of white light spread across the side of her smiling face. “It softens the room. Women are drawn to that. I was also thinking you could hang some of those decorative paper balls near the window. The big ones.”
Ryan pinched his lips together, an attempt to keep a straight face. “Because women also like big balls?”
She opened her mouth to respond, and at the same time, her eyes grew wide when his words registered. She giggled, the sound echoing about the empty room and straight into Ryan, settling in the hollow space dead center in his chest. The place that every laugh and smile became buried.
It warmed him. Grounded him. And he didn’t stop for one second to wonder why it felt like he was slowly filling up with these little pieces of her.
Stepping up to the edge of the counter below her, he held up his arms. “Come on, I have something I want to show you.”
Question marks narrowed her gaze as she assessed his outstretched arms.
“I’ll catch you this time,” he assured with a smile.
“I won’t end up under you again?” She reached for him, landing her palms on his shoulders. A curtain of hair fell forward and over her shoulder, but it did nothing to cover the playful grin spread across her face. “That’s disappointing.”
He gripped her waist. The weight of her body fell into his hands, and instead of lowering her to the ground, he held her, face-to-face with him. One dip, and her lip was between his teeth, the sweet smell of her blasting his senses. “Don’t tempt me, Carlson.”
Lowering her, Ryan threaded his fingers through hers and started for the back office, his entire body still buzzing from the contact of her skin. He led her to the desk and sat her at the edge as he reached beneath for the small black petty-cash safe and opened it. From the hidden pouch on the side, he pulled out a necklace and dangled it in front of her. Light from above glinted off the gold bird charm.
A Moment of Madness (Boston Alibi) Page 13
