by T. S. Joyce
“Friends,” she said suspiciously.
“With benefits who like to pet each other’s—”
Lexi shook her head in warning, so Ryder amended, “Friends who are just friends.”
Better. Lexi rubbed her hand over her forehead and looked around. With a sigh, she gestured to his notepad. “Okay, ask me.”
“Number one. On a scale of one to ten, how much do you like giving blow jobs to—”
“Ryder.”
“So a ten,” he murmured, making a note.
Lexi pursed her lips against her smile because he didn’t need encouragement.
“Number two. Do you like dogs?”
Good, a normal question. “Yes.”
“Three. What percentage of time do you spend in the mornings on choosing lingerie versus the clothes you wear?”
She gave him a dead-eyed look.
“Fine, pass. Four, multiple choice. Do you want seven, eight, or twelve children?”
She refused to answer that one, too, but now it was getting harder not to laugh, and Ryder wasn’t helping because he wasn’t keeping a straight face either. She rested her fingertips nonchalantly over her lips to hide the smile there.
“Five…” He cracked a smile, then smoothed back out his face and tried again. “Five, what cup-size are your tits?”
Okay, now that she knew this was a big joke to him, she wanted to play. “I’m a B-Cup.”
Ryder ticked his mouth in mock-disappointment and jotted down some notes.
“But,” she joked, “they swell to full Cs when I’m on my period.”
“Mmm,” he said, fighting a grin. “I’ve never been so excited about a woman’s menses before.”
He stood there staring at her, his eyes dancing with the smile he was trying to stave off, and she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t hold his gaze, or she would lose it. She stared off into the woods and clenched her teeth against the laughter that was bubbling up her throat.
“I have questions for you now,” she said.
“I’m an open book and have no shame. Hit me.”
“Where did you find those tiny shorts?”
“Someone from my old crew showed me how to make them out of jeans.”
“Great, how did you find me?”
The ghost of the smile dipped from his lips. “I asked around about you.”
“From Alana?”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, but she wouldn’t dish any dirt, which is pretty shitty of a second best friend.”
“So I would be your best friend after Alana?”
“Yeah,” he said, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “We hardly know each other. I found you on the Internet.”
“You mean you stalked me.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, lady,” he said, holding up his hands. “I didn’t stalk you. I just tracked down your job, where you would be working today, and the road…you…take home.” He frowned. “It’s not weird until you say it out loud.”
“Well, you didn’t have to go to the trouble because I planned on stopping by Alana’s café on Tuesday to watch the train wreck that is your love life and possibly sit with you to offer my support while your ex reams you.”
His answering grin was stunning. His freckles stood out against his pale skin, his eyes were a bright and beautiful blue color, and dimples sank into his cheeks as his smile lines deepened. It didn’t help her hormones that he was shirtless and his nipples had tightened to sexy little bitable buds right now.
She was staring. When she forced her eyes back up to Ryder’s, he had the cockiest smile she’d ever seen on a man’s lips. Shaking her head, she prepared to make her exit because this man was trouble with a capital T. “It’s been nice chatting with you, but I have to get home.”
“Say no more.”
Good, at least he got the hint. But when Ryder slid back into the passenger’s seat, she leaned on her open window and shook her head in exasperation. “Out.”
“When should I pick you up for our first friend-date then?”
Lexi narrowed her eyes at him, but Ryder only relaxed back and rested his feet on her dashboard, and now his muscular butt-cheeks were hanging out of the shorts. Ridiculous man. Sexy, yes, but ridiculous first. Why did she find his behavior so amusing? She’d always been one to date serious types. But this wasn’t dating. It was just friendship with a funny guy who made her laugh.
“How about you drop by my booth during Taste of Bryson City on Saturday morning? I’ll be giving out samples of food in a purple tent near the middle of Main Street. You can hang out with me there if you want.”
“Done. I will do that for you,” Ryder said, sliding out of her Jeep. He strode around the vehicle, and she expected him to jog back across the street to retrieve his plastic pitchers, but instead he sauntered straight up to her and wrapped his arms around her.
Lexi froze, shocked to her bones.
Ryder tensed when their torsos met. He huffed a small breath as though surprised, too, then gently rested his cheek against her temple. Gads, he was tall, and so strong against her. She should balk at hugging a complete stranger but after Blake, it felt so good to have a man willingly touch her. Slowly, Lexi wrapped her arms around his waist and relaxed against him. She didn’t know how long they stood there like that on the side of the road, just hugging, but after a while, she wanted to cry for some reason she couldn’t understand or explain.
Ryder was a goofball and liked to joke around, but this was a different side. A softer side that pleasantly surprised her.
He moved his cheek slightly, and she could’ve sworn he kissed her there on her hairline, just a silent peck before he eased back. She thought he would have on a silly smile like he’d been wearing before, but he looked down at her with an intense, almost confused, expression on his face.
“I’ll see you Saturday,” he murmured in a deep, rich timbre that sent warmth streaking down into her middle.
“See you,” she whispered.
And then Ryder opened her door for her, waited for her to get in, never taking his eyes from her, and shut the door beside her gently. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again and patted her open window twice before he pushed off and waited for her to leave.
As she drove away, she looked into her rearview mirror at the confounding man who was shaking up butterflies in her stomach that she never thought she would feel again. Ryder stood on the side of the road with his hands linked behind that fiery red head of his, watching her leave with a frown etched into his face.
She understood that look because one glance in the mirror at herself, and she wore the same one. She was baffled by him, too.
Chapter Four
Lexi was being ridiculous. An hour into the Taste of Bryson City event, and she had already convinced herself Ryder wasn’t coming. Did that stop her from scanning the crowd every millisecond like a hopeful nutjob? No.
Across Main Street and up a few tents, the Bryson City Fire Department was cooking hamburgers and hot dogs on a giant grill with a buffet table set up with all the condiments. And one Aaron Keller was standing as greeter, talking cordially to passersby. From the Internet stalking she’d done on Ryder’s crew, he was one of the Bloodrunners. Second to Harper Keller, the dragon alpha herself. Never in a million years had Lexi thought one of the rare dragon shifters would end up here in tiny town, North Carolina. And Kane didn’t count. No one had actually seen the dragon inside the quiet man with the terrifyingly green reptilian eyes. Two tents down was a green one with Alana’s Coffee & Sweets logo on the front banner, and Alana was serving small plastic cups with samples of her pastries. She caught Lexi’s eye and waved.
Lexi flipped the shaved steak on the griddle quick and waved with her tongs.
Alana was part of Ryder’s crew, too, the mate of Aaron Keller, so where the hell was Ryder? Or should she say Air Ryder, because that’s the name apparently everyone in the whole world knew him as. She’d never kept up with shifter culture, but he had a hu
ge following. Lexi’s Internet stalking had told her that Air Ryder was a badass rare shifter with personality for days, and one of the most famous flight shifters in the entire world. And the more of his posts she’d read, the more attention she noticed from his online followers, the less sense it made that he was showing interest in her. Who was she? No one special. Just a small town chef who enjoyed a quiet life and didn’t know the first thing about shifters or Air Ryder’s culture.
This was probably a game to him—chasing her, getting her crushing hard on him, then dropping her. Just the thought sent another ache through her stomach. She’d barely eaten in two days, all because she had been so nervous for today. It was just a casual meeting of new, sort-of friends, but she couldn’t shake the happy feeling that had warmed her when she’d stood on the side of the road in his arms.
For the first time in years, she’d felt safe, and okay.
Lexi slapped a slice of cheese to melt on top of the steak and stirred the mushrooms she was sautéing in a giant pan on another griddle.
Behind her, Sprinkles whined. She was leashed to one of the legs of the tent, which she hated. Her little back legs lay limply to the side, her tail completely still, but if Sprinkles was able, she’d be wagging at Lexi right now for looking at her. Sprinkles was paralyzed on her back end, but that hadn’t slowed her down at all. Once Lexi strapped her into her tiny wheels, Sprinkles loved to run and didn’t stop until she was worn out completely.
“Sorry, baby. Today is gonna be a little boring, but we’ll go on a big walk when we get home.”
Sprinkles, clearly pouting, lowered her chest to the pink, bejeweled dog bed and heaved a sigh as she looked up at Lexi with the saddest expression in her giant eyes. God, the little Chihuahua slayed her. Lexi giggled and went back to making the miniature Philly cheesesteaks. There was a line forming, and there were only three samples left on the table, so she hurried to make more.
For the next half an hour, she was blissfully too busy to dwell on the fact that the funny redhead she had a teeny crush on was standing her up.
Table full of samples and the crowd dwindling momentarily, she inhaled all the delicious scents filling the air and rested her hands on her aching lower back. She loved this town. Sure, it had the same problems every small town had, like everyone knowing everyone else’s business, but the people were friendly, and were helpful when a member of the community got into a jam.
Couples and trios and chatting families walked this way and that, but when she looked up the street to check on the line at the Fire Department’s hamburger station, a flash of red captured her attention.
Ryder was walking away from her, but abruptly he stopped and strode deliberately toward her tent. His eyes on the asphalt, he seemed to be talking to himself as he ran his hand roughly over his head.
When he looked up and locked eyes with her, he skidded to a stop with a wide-eyed look. Ryder glanced behind him as if debating an escape, and her stomach started hurting again. He didn’t want to be here. He was here out of politeness.
His ruddy brows furrowed, he wound through the crowd until he reached her. “Hey.”
Desperate to protect herself from rejection, Lexi said, “It’s okay. I’m super busy, and you probably want to try a bunch of food. We’ll just see each other around town sometime.”
Ryder looked dumbfounded. “What?”
Lexi puffed air out of her cheeks and then busied herself with making the next batch of mini-cheesesteaks. “You don’t look like you want to be here.”
“I don’t.”
No two words had ever felt like a pair of individual slaps before, but these did. “Then go.”
“I wasn’t going to come, but then I would be this asshole who didn’t follow through, and you deserve better than that. Better than me.”
“Oh, my gosh, okay. Enough. I get it. I really do. You can save your ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. We don’t even know each other.”
“No, I mean, I’m gonna fuck this up,” Ryder said on a rushed breath.
Lexi froze, a strip of thinly sliced steak dangling from her tongs. Words escaped her, so Ryder tumbled on. “I’m not doing this right, and Wes told me to take it easy and slow and not to get attached, but you don’t seem like the type of lady a man avoids getting attached to, you know?”
“No,” she said, baffled. “I’m the exact type of woman a man can avoid getting attached to. Literally everyone I’ve ever dated gets bored and finds their wife immediately following a break-up with me.” Or sometimes during, like Ballsack Blake did.
Ryder shoved a mini-cheesesteak in his maw and around the bite said, “I eat when I’m nervous. Holy fuck, Sexy Lexi, this is good. Can I have another? I’m gonna have another.” He gulped and upended the contents of another plastic sample bowl into his maw. His chiseled jaw flexed with each chew. He apparently hadn’t shaved since they’d seen each other last, and fiery stubble glinted in the saturated sunlight.
No one in the history of the universe had ever looked this sexy eating cheese and meat.
He wore a white stretch T-shirt that made his blue eyes seem even brighter somehow. It was tight on his broad shoulders and slightly looser at his tapered waist. At least he’d lost the short shorts and was wearing medium-wash jeans today. The hem of his shirt had caught on the waistband of his pants and tucked in just slightly. He probably had an eight-pack or a ten-pack, or hell, maybe a twelve-pack. Did God make those?
“I like the way you’re staring at my dick, but you’re making the customers uncomfortable. Did you hear anything I said? Should I talk through my pener hole to keep your attention?”
The mayor and his two teenaged children were staring at Ryder with their mouths hanging open.
“Oh, my gosh, stop talking,” she whispered. Mortified, she pressed her clammy palms onto her cheeks to cool the searing blush there. “Mayer Hawkins, I’m so sorry.”
“Mayor Hawkins?” Ryder asked. Oh God, he was going to make this worse. But he reached over and shook the mayor’s hand and introduced himself like a normal person. “I’m Ryder Croy.”
Ronnie Hawkins, the mayor’s sixteen-year-old son, said, “Hey, I know you! I follow you online. You’re Air Ryder. The Air Ryder! Dad,” he said, turning his grin on his father, “he’s the snowy owl! He’s one of the Bloodrunners.”
“Aaah,” Mayor Hawkins said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was actually wanting to welcome your crew to town.” He lowered his voice. “Between you and me, you did Bryson City a big favor when you chased the vamps out of the area. Aric was all right, but his coven was in trouble all the time.”
“Glad we could help,” Ryder said. He winked at Ronnie, who was gawking.
“Can I have your autograph? My girlfriend isn’t going to believe I talked to you if I don’t bring her proof.”
Ryder chuckled warmly. “Sure, kid.”
Stunned, Lexi fumbled for the pen she’d been using to tally how many samples she’d given out today and handed it to Ryder. He asked Ronnie his name and scribbled across a napkin, then signed his name like he’d done it a thousand times. Hell, maybe he had.
“Your mushrooms are burning,” Ryder said helpfully.
Lexi squawked and rushed to stir them. After she emptied the pan on the big griddle next to the steak and added cheese on top to melt, she looked up to find Ryder pulling on plastic gloves.
“Bark!”
Ryder spun around with a hopeful look on his face, but he frowned suspiciously at the champagne-colored Chihuahua sitting up in her cushy bed. “What is that?”
“That’s my dog, Sprinkles.”
“No ma’am,” he growled. “That’s two pounds wet and covered in pink jewels. Sprinkles?” He offered Lexi an offended glare. “That’s not a dog. It’s a husky hamster.”
“Grrrrr.”
Lexi giggled at the tiny, unintimidating rattle in her dog’s throat. “Sprinkles doesn’t take shit from anyone, Ryder. Stop judging her.”
“Or what? She’l
l lick me to death? Is that a tutu? You put a pink tutu on her?” He shook his head and started organizing the samples into neat rows. “That’s not right.” But he didn’t look mad. In fact, a smile crept across his lips every time he looked back at Sprinkles.
Lexi got the feeling that Ryder was more of a softy than he let on.
The next hour passed in a blur as they settled into a routine together. Ryder handed out samples and chatted up the event-goers until eventually they began gathering and talking around Lexi’s tent. The ebb and flow of laughter as old friends caught up around them made Lexi’s heart happy. Ryder was a capable man who seemed to adapt instantly to what needed to be done, and before long, he was working with her side-by-side, bringing her supplies from the giant cooler, cooking the mushrooms and onions, cutting the steak, sectioning off the filling for the miniature hoagie rolls, the whole nine. And all while charming the socks off the people who visited her—their—tent.
No one was more charmed than Lexi, though.
Maybe it was his comfortable, friendly nature, or his ease at conversing with strangers. Perhaps it was that he could place a witty one-liner perfectly, or that he made the kids giggle and always reflected their smile as though he truly enjoyed making people happy. But it was also the way he looked people directly in their eyes as if they were the only ones in the world he wanted to talk to. It was the way one side of his lips curved up higher than the other when he laughed. It was the way his blue eyes danced, turned intense, and then danced again every time he cast her a glance—which was often. It was the way he brushed her hip with his fingertips when he needed her to move over but let his touch linger there, and the way he wrapped his arm around her shoulder when the crowd was happy and murmured, “You look pretty today,” against her ear. It was the way his presence working beside her was unforced, and the way he kept leaning into her when he wanted to tell a joke.
She’d never giggled so much in a single afternoon in all her life.
Air Ryder Croy was either the smoothest man she’d ever met, or he was something really special.
