by M. L. Broome
Thankfully for Greg and Mom, their lumps were benign. My father’s behavior? Not so much.
“As the best man, I want to say a few words before we’re all too drunk to remember them.” All eyes focus on the divinely handsome racer, a smirk breaking across his features.
“Speak for yourself. There’s no such thing as drunk in Vegas,” Greg counters, earning an appreciative laugh from Ryder.
“That’s the rumor, anyway. You’re my oldest friend, and even though we don’t talk enough, true friendship never dies. Jillian, we only just met, but I see how happy Greg is, and I know that’s because of you. Congratulations, you two. Here’s to the world being your oyster.”
Everyone toasts to their happiness, and I shoot a smile at Ryder from across the limo. He’s right. My brother deserves every happiness.
At least one of us does.
With a sigh, I focus my gaze out the window. I’m thrilled for Greg and normally I keep the loneliness at bay by maintaining an insane work schedule, interspersed with the occasional night out with friends. I haven’t dated anyone seriously in over a year, but honestly, I don’t have the energy for a relationship with my endless stacks of bills.
Perhaps one day.
My reverie is broken as Ryder squeezes next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He’s snuggled as close to me as Michelle was to him, and his proximity threatens my heart’s equilibrium.
“I have one last toast. A private one for the most beautiful woman in the world. To you, Gigi.”
My jaw slackens, not only at his words but at the softness residing in his eyes as he speaks them. “That’s quite a compliment from the king of racing.”
Ryder shakes his head, but it’s obvious my statement upsets him, which was never my intention. “I’m just Ryder. With you, that’s always been enough.”
Pressing my hand to his chest, I let down the wall that encases my heart. “It still is.”
That crooked grin decorates his face as he tucks my head under his chin, his grip tightening around me. Once again, I feel safe.
Just like eight years ago, Ryder has snuck back into my heart through a window which I no doubt left open for his return.
Chapter 4
Greer
I’ll be full for a week. The rehearsal dinner is a Greek-style feast with so many platters of food I’m shocked the table doesn’t crack from the weight. No surprise to learn the entire weekend is compliments of Ryder, who is also on a first-name basis with the restaurant’s owner. There’s no way we normal everyday folks could ever score a table in such a place.
Normally, I hate how the ultra-rich flaunt their money, but Ryder isn’t doing it for recognition. The man is generous to a fault and I know it’s making my brother’s wedding special. Judging by the smile decorating Greg’s face, he’s over the moon to be reunited with his childhood friend.
I’m thrilled to see Greg smile.
I’m also thrilled to see Ryder, even if I’m having a hard time controlling my lustful urges in his vicinity.
Who can blame me? The man is superbly sexy. His hands are strong but lean, with long fingers I’ve no doubt know their way around a woman’s body. Too bad I didn’t get the full breadth of that experience eight years ago. Then there’s his mouth—full lips surrounded by a neatly trimmed dark beard. When he runs his hand over his beard, connecting my two favorite body parts, I don’t stand a chance.
Despite Ryder’s nonchalant attitude toward her, Michelle is still gunning for his attention. She snagged the seat next to him at the table—no surprise there—and she’s finding every reason in the world to lean against him, her breasts threatening to spill out of her skimpy top.
No doubt Ryder is used to the blatant affection, but he appears to be a consummate gentleman, which I’m sure is terribly upsetting for Michelle.
As for me, I’m seated a few seats down and across the table from him, but I’m happy with my spot. It allows me to sneak glances in his direction without being too obvious. Of course, every time I look his way, he’s already looking at me.
But it’s the way he looks at me—such intensity and longing—that has every cell firing at the same time. I’ve had my share of men, but none has ever managed a reaction quite like the one Ryder is bringing out in me, and he’s a few feet away.
I can’t imagine what it would feel like to remove that space, along with any clothing that might get in the way.
I giggle at my tempestuous thoughts, earning a quizzical glance from Ryder. “Nothing,” I mouth, waving it off.
With a sigh and a wink in Ryder’s direction, I head for the bathroom, releasing a squeal of excitement when the band plays one of my favorite Bowie songs.
Walking to the small dance area, I spy Ryder and Michelle, her body pressed close as she whispers in his ear, and a twinge of jealousy sparks inside me.
I know he’s not mine, but I can still want to break her fingers. It’s not like I’m going to act on the notion.
“Would you like to dance?”
Gazing up, I smile into the stranger’s handsome face as he offers me his hand.
“She’s dancing with me. Only me,” Ryder cuts in, a muscle jumping in his jaw. He grabs my hand, leading me to the floor and pulling me flush against him.
“What was that about? You had a dance partner.”
“Not by choice,” he retorts, his hand resting against my lower back. “She’s like an octopus—arms everywhere. Thanks for saving me, by the way.”
I tap his chest, offering him a smirk. “So hard being adored. Poor little Ryder.”
Cupping my ass, he pulls me hard against his erection. “Gigi, there’s nothing little about me.”
“Certainly not your ego.”
Am I getting flustered, feeling his length pressed against me?
Hell yes.
Will I let Ryder in on this fact?
Hell no.
“Did you really want to dance with that guy?”
“Not particularly,” I remark, glancing at the handsome gentleman across the floor.
“Do you want to dance with me?”
Moving my gaze to meet his, I capture my lower lip between my teeth, fully aware Ryder is watching my every move. “If I say yes, that makes it too easy. Women always come easy for you.”
Ryder chuckles, his lips moving against my ear. “Greer, I’ve waited twenty years for this moment. Nothing about you has been easy.”
“You weren’t waiting for me.”
He stops moving, his gaze focused on me with such intensity I fear I might melt into a puddle. “My heart was.”
And now my heart pounds like a runaway freight train, my entire body trembling under the weight of his words. “That was really good. Next level good.”
Dipping his head, his mouth grazes against mine. “Good enough for a thank you kiss?”
“Definitely.” I press a chaste but soft kiss on his lips, pulling back before I totally lose myself to the moment.
Ryder skews his mouth, shooting me a mock glare. “I’m not sure how grateful you are with a kiss like that, and I know you have the most amazing mouth in the world.”
“Shall I show you again?”
“A million more times.”
I can’t fight the high I feel being in his arms, or the sparks flooding my body as his hands press me ever closer. Then I hear the familiar strains of my favorite Elvis song. “Two for two. Lucky guess?”
“Not a guess, a photographic memory. I told you on New Year’s Eve that I remember everything about you. It still holds true today, but for the last eight years I’ve also carried the knowledge of how you kiss.” His mouth nuzzles my neck, and I tilt my head to give him better access. “How you taste. Your body has always been gorgeous, but now you’re absolutely incredible.”
Ryder runs his tongue along his lip, the hunger raging in his face.
Rising on tiptoe, I press a kiss to his ear. “You should see me naked.”
His breath hitches, but his grip never
falters. Instead, his hands slide down my spine to wrap around my hips. “I plan on it, Gigi. And one more sexy as fuck statement from your delectable mouth and I’ll be forced to strip you down right here.”
Damn, doesn’t that sound tempting? “Is that a fact? What then?”
He grips my chin, his lips hovering against mine. “Then everything. Everything I’ve waited years to do. I’m not leaving here without making you mine. In every possible way.”
Ryder claims my mouth, his kiss hot and demanding as he splays his hands across my ass.
But unlike the slow, sensual kisses from that long-ago New Year’s Eve, this kiss borders on possessive, and with every second that passes, my body nears implosion. Ryder isn’t holding back as he hauls my body flush against him, his hands firmly against my skin.
A whoop sounds from my right and I glare at my brother, who shoots us a thumbs up. “I knew it.”
“What an ass,” Ryder chuckles, his mouth dancing against mine.
“He’s your friend.”
“He’s your brother.”
“Exactly. I had no choice in the matter. You went willingly.”
“I’d go anywhere to be near you,” Ryder replies, and I know my heart doesn’t stand a chance against his romantic inclinations. Or his grace on the dance floor.
“Who taught you to dance?” Yes, I’m changing the subject. I need to maintain some level of space between me and the world-famous playboy.
Ryder smiles, inching me closer. “When my dad was in the hospital, my mom wanted to keep my mind off things. To be honest, she wanted to keep her mind off things. So, she taught me to dance in the waiting rooms, swaying to the ridiculous elevator music that all hospitals play.”
“I always loved your mom. How is she doing?”
“She’s good. I built a house for her up on Lake George. She and Dad always wanted to move there. I wanted to ensure she didn’t miss that chance.”
I slide my hand along his arm, feeling the muscle flex. “I love how you take such good care of your Mom. You’re doing very well for yourself.”
“I do all right.”
“Bullshit. I’ve seen pictures of your house. I mean, castle.”
“It’s just a house.” He leans in, his mouth tickling my ear. “You have to come to visit. I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“Any room, in particular, you’d like to show me?”
The air crackles between us, but I can’t look away. His eyes darken, his hands drifting across my skin.
“I’ll make love to you in every room, Gigi. One time for each day I’ve gone without you.”
“We’ll be busy for a while, then.”
“That’s the idea, but I’m not waiting until we get back to my house.”
“No?” My heart races like a locomotive, pounding against my rib cage.
“We’ve waited long enough.” Stealing a kiss, he rests his forehead against mine, softly singing ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ as we sway to the rhythm.
“You really remember.” I can’t believe he’s committed so much of me to his memory.
“It was your favorite song.”
“It’s still my favorite.”
“And you’re still mine.”
Just like that, I fall in love with Ryder Gray again.
I’m barely able to breathe over the pounding in my heart. Cupping his face, I run my fingers along his soft beard. “I missed you, Ryder.”
Once again, it’s as though he sees past the simple statement, to the true meaning underneath. “Not nearly as much as I missed you.”
When our mouths meet this time, I feel everything—all the passion, the deep ache emanating from us both. His kisses reawaken a part of my core that’s laid dormant for years, each slide of his tongue against mine reassuring me that every promise he’s made he intends to keep.
Ryder nibbles a path along my jaw, his grip on my hips tightening, and I wonder how much longer I can hold out against this level of electricity. “Let’s get out of here, Gigi. I need time alone with you.”
I should play hard to get, because I know a man like Ryder Gray doesn’t hear the word no, particularly not from women. But I’ve also been waiting far longer than any of those women. Besides, I know what I want. I’ve known for eight years.
And yet…
“Hey.” Ryder tips my chin up, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “I just want to be with you. We don’t have to do anything beyond that. Please.”
“What about the bachelor party?”
“I’ve hired the best strippers in Vegas for your brother and his buddies. I have a much more private party in mind for us—bubble bath, champagne, and holding you all night. We’ve waited forever already.”
With a smile, I release my doubts, determined to live in the moment. I’ll deal with the heartache tomorrow. “Meet you out front?”
Ryder presses another kiss to my lips, his hands tangling in my hair as he holds me close. “Don’t take too long.”
With a smile tattooed on my face, I strut into the bathroom, ensuring some extra hip shake for Ryder’s benefit. Hey, I work my ass out three times a week for a reason.
If you’ve got it, flaunt it. If you work it, shake it.
Not my motto, but it sure as hell should be.
I’m fixing my lipstick in the bathroom mirror when a woman sidles next to me, casting me a side-eye glance. “You’re with Ryder Gray.”
And just like that, my back goes up. “Is that a question?”
“An observation, judging by your make-out session on the dance floor.”
Closing my purse, I turn to my accuser, verbal barbs at the ready. “What’s it to you?”
“Me? Nothing. But I’m fairly certain it will bother his girlfriend, Mandi.”
The name Mandi isn’t totally unfamiliar, and I seem to recall reading about her and Ryder’s romance, but that was months ago. Besides, he would tell me if he had a girlfriend. I refuse to let this stranger get under my skin. “Sorry to break it to you, but he’s single.”
“When did they break up? Yesterday?” With a final once over, she sends me a smirk. “Honey, do your homework. Men like Ryder Gray are never single. They only pretend to be, in order to get what they want. Best not learn that the hard way.”
Thrilled she’s put a kink in my step, she saunters out of the bathroom, leaving me to weigh my options.
She’s a lunatic, jealous that I have Ryder’s attention, and she doesn’t.
But what if she’s right? He never mentioned not having a girlfriend.
Ryder is a good guy, especially where I’m concerned. He wouldn’t do that.
He’s also the same man who kissed me and then never called. Do I really want to test that theory with sex?
This is the mental argument doing battle in my brain, and I’m not sure which side has the advantage.
Screw it. The only way to learn the truth is to ask for it, and the man with the knowledge I seek is right outside.
With a final sigh, I stroll out to the limo, watching Ryder’s face light up when he sees me. “Ready to go?”
Here goes nothing.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Are you dating a woman named Mandi?”
“Fuck.” Ryder runs his hand over his scalp, avoiding my gaze. “Did someone say something?”
My heart sinks at his statement. “That’s not an answer.”
“I was, but we aren’t dating anymore.”
Okay, that’s a start. I knew that woman was a jealous maniac.
“When did you two break up?”
“Gigi, what’s going on? Don’t let people get into your head.”
And here is where the conversation takes a turn into dangerous territory. After my father’s indiscretions, I learned how to read people, particularly when they’re not forthcoming. Ryder is the epitome of evasive with this line of questioning.
“Answer the question.”
“Two days ago,” he mut
ters, and my stomach flips.
“That’s just wonderful.”
“What does it matter? I caught Mandi screwing another man in my house. Trust me, she doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”
“Right now, I feel sorry for me.” I shake my head as the full breadth of his words hit home. “Wait, she lived with you, too? God, that’s so much worse.”
“Mandi was more than happy to end things. Trust me, the relationship has been over for months.”
Holding up two fingers, I prepare to stand my ground. “No, it’s been over for two days. Here I thought… doesn’t matter. Turns out I’m a rebound. At least it’s a step up from being the other woman.”
He grabs my arms, forcing me to look at him. “That is not the case, Gigi. You know how special you are to me.”
“Eight years ago, you kissed me with your date downstairs. Today, after our little dance floor make-out session, I discover you had a live-in girlfriend two days ago. Do you have any idea how bad this looks?”
“How long do I need to be single for it to be acceptable to you?” Oh, good, now he’s aggravated.
Two can play that game.
“More than two days would be preferable. Hell, is asking for a week between women too much?” I rub my brow as a headache brews. “I feel like an idiot. Again.”
“Gigi, that’s the last thing I ever want to do.”
He rubs my arms, but I shrug him off. My emotions become too muddled when he touches me, and I must maintain a clear head. “If it’s a quick lay you’re after, there’s a ton of women here who will do whatever you want. No questions asked.”
His eyes darken, a storm brewing in their depths. “Is that what you think? Gigi, if I wanted a quick lay, I’d have had one by now.” No sooner has the words left his mouth than he realizes what a terrible idea it was to give them a voice. A frown mars his brow as he takes a step toward me. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
He’s right, but contrite or not, the damage is done.
