Roughing It With Ryan

by Jill Shalvis

  “The business is good,” Ryan said, his voice a little thick because damn, they’d given him a sucker punch to the gut with this reminder of how much he wasn’t alone. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been a little out of it lately, but—”

  “A little?” Rafe shook his head. “I told you I didn’t get home until three in the morning, and what did you say? Nothing.”

  “You got home at three in the morning?” Ryan frowned. “Where the hell were you until then?”

  “See? You never even heard me.”

  “I’m hearing you now. Where were you—”

  “Look, kick his ass later, okay?” Angel knelt in front of Ryan and took his hands. “Tell us what’s wrong.”

  Ryan stared at the three people in the world who meant everything to him, and spoke the utter truth, the truth he’d only just been able to admit. “I’ve…fallen for a woman.”

  They all stared at him for a heartbeat, then burst into laughter.

  “That’s a good one,” Angel said, swiping a tear of mirth off her cheek. “You’ve fallen for a woman. A woman. Uh-huh, right.”

  “As if one would ever be enough.” Rafe was still grinning, too. “When we all know you need a minimum of three a week.”

  “See, now that’s not exactly true.” But it had been his own deception that made them believe it. “I’m not dating women every night. I’m…going to college. I’m almost finished my landscape architect degree.”

  Russ narrowed his eyes. “But you are dating. You dated Allene just last week.”

  “I did go out with Allene, but only because Rafe set it up and I didn’t pay attention enough to say no. I’m not kidding you, I’m taking classes three nights a week and between that and work and Suzanne, it’s killing me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I…just wanted to do this for me.”

  Angel stared at him, then wound her arms around his neck. “Oh, Ryan. College! We’re college buddies! I feel so proud of you!”

  “Landscape architecture?” Rafe repeated slowly, then grinned. “How cool is that?”

  “But what about the business?” Russ asked.

  “The tree business will be here as long as you guys want it.”

  “So…” Rafe scratched his head. “You’ve been doing all of it? Just for us? Bro, you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Of course I did.”

  “I don’t want to make this a chick-flick or anything,” Rafe said a little thickly. “But that’s pretty damn cool of you.”

  “Landscape architecture,” Rafe said slowly. “Yeah.

  Sounds cool. But…you’re not dating the entire female population? Really?”

  “Really.” Ryan gave Angel, still in his arms, a squeeze. “Sorry.”

  She pulled free to narrow her gaze on him. “So who’s Suzanne?”

  “The one.” He swallowed and faced the cold, hard truth. “She’s the one.”

  “She’s— Oh my God.” She put a hand to her mouth while her gaze never left his. “You’re serious.”

  “I’m serious.”

  Russ groaned and sank theatrically into a chair. “He’s fallen and can’t get up.”

  “So what are you going to do about her?” Angel wanted to know.

  “Well…I’m going to convince her she feels the same way.”

  “Why do you have to convince her?” his sister demanded. “Why doesn’t she already love you? What’s the matter with her?”

  “Nothing.” Ryan grinned. “She just isn’t quite as sure of me as you are.”

  SUZANNE FOUND a part-time chef position at a restaurant across town. After being her own boss for weeks, she had to admit…working for someone else wasn’t as much fun as she remembered.

  South Village was fun to live in, and fun to cook in, but this restaurant was upscale. Which meant she was cooking for people who knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to say so. Very quickly she got tired of the same menu every night, and not being able to deviate for fear of insulting a patron.

  One morning about a week after what she thought of as “the ice cream” incident with Ryan, she tripped over a package outside her door. Frowning, she picked up the plainly wrapped, odd-shaped box with the pretty silver bow. It was nearly two feet long, several inches wide, and gave off no other clue as to what it was.

  She glanced left and right down the hallway of the second floor landing, but there was no one there, so she pulled off the ribbon, then the paper.

  And found herself holding a set of beautiful teak-wood cooking utensils.

  A card fell out, and she scooped it up, her heart accelerating at the words.

  Suzanne,

  For your catering. I know, I know, it’s just a hobby. But maybe you’ll think of me when you use them, as I’m thinking of you.

  Ryan.

  Ryan, the man who’d made her smile and yearn and burn. Ryan, the man who haunted her dreams every night.

  Ryan, the man who could single-handedly destroy her in a way no one else ever could.

  The gift wasn’t some empty-handed gesture, as flowers might have been. The utensils had been bought with her in mind, which meant the gift came from his heart.

  That alone made her throat tight, because she couldn’t remember ever receiving a gift like this before.

  Lord, she must be tired. She hadn’t slept well in days. Ryan’s fault, as she’d been dreaming about him. If she wasn’t dreaming about him, she was thinking about him.

  Again, his fault. He’d called, he’d stopped by, and much as she wanted to remain indifferent, she couldn’t. Not when every time they easily talked, easily laughed…and easily could have taken it further.

  She’d say it was all physical, but that was a lie. It was far more than physical now, and she knew it.

  Which made it no less terrifying. She’d failed in her determination to keep him out of her heart. Utterly failed.

  That evening when she got home, there was yet another package. Small this time, with another silver bow.

  She opened the thing like a kid at Christmas, then right there in the hallway had to sit down.

  It was a pewter pin in the shape of a chef’s hat, lying on velvet. Etched on the hat was her name. The detailing was beautiful, the pin was beautiful.

  And so was the gesture.

  This time her fingers shook when she opened the card, and just seeing his words—the ones he’d written in his own hand—made his voice come alive in her head. Her body reacted as if he’d touched her.

  Suzanne,

  I’m so proud of you. Be proud, too.

  Ryan.

  That night, wearing the pin on her pajamas and holding the teak utensils in her hand, she sat on her bed and picked up the phone. Dialed. Listened to Ryan say hello in that low, sexy voice. And panicked.

  Why had she called?

  To tell him to stop buying her presents, that’s why.

  To tell him to stop making her think of him. To tell him this had to stop because she was losing her mind.

  “Hello?” Ryan said again.

  She bit her lip. Tell him. Tell him!

  “Suzanne?”

  Oh God.

  His voice deepened, became intimately familiar.

  “Suzanne, is that you?”

  She closed her eyes. “How did you know?”

  “I’d recognize your panicked breathing any where.”

  Terrific.

  “I’m glad you called,” he said quietly. “I’ve been thinking of you.”

  “I…have to go.”

  “Suzanne—”

  “Bye,” she whispered in a choked voice and hung up.

  It wasn’t possible to be more pathetic, really it wasn’t. And then, as if he could still hear her, or worse, see her, she lay down and put her pillow over her head.

  12

  THE NEXT MORNING Suzanne woke and ran to her front door. Hauling it open, she looked down at her feet, and let out a helpless little hum of pleasure.

  Ryan had come. She unwrapped a set of votive cand
les, vanilla scented. Her favorite, which he knew, and she melted all over again.

  This time the card read:

  Suzanne,

  I couldn’t find chocolate ice cream scented candles…

  Ryan

  She laughed.

  Then she cried.

  She stood there holding the teak utensils and candles, with her pin on her pajamas, staring out into space. What would happen if she gave in?

  No. No giving in. Had she forgotten what she did to men? Good men went bad because of her.

  Damn, this wasn’t funny. This wasn’t something she could walk away from. Suddenly furious at herself for getting in too deep, she headed down the hall.

  Suzanne found Taylor in one of the dusty, bottom floor storefronts, looking as put together as always in tan slacks and a pristine white blouse.

  “Hey there,” Her friend said, not turning around. “I’m getting this unit ready. We need someone with lots of bucks to come in and open a shop or something. I was thinking— Uh-oh.” She’d finally turned and took in Suzanne’s rattled appearance. “What’s the matter?”

  “Do you know where Ryan’s current job is?”

  “Um…” Taylor smoothed her perfectly glossed lips together. “If I say yes, are you going to storm off in your pajamas, holding what looks like salad tongs and a set of candles?”

  Suzanne looked down at her sweat bottoms and tank top. Women wore less than this every day. So her hair was undoubtedly rioted and she had no makeup on, so what? She wasn’t here to win a beauty contest. “I am, yes. He’s…he’s sending me gifts, Taylor.”

  “The bastard.”

  “I know!”

  Taylor stuck her tongue in her cheek. “So what did he send?”

  “Not generic flowers. No, nothing as simple as that. He sent good stuff. Stuff I want but would never go buy for myself.”

  “Really,” Taylor said with a tsk and a serious face. “The nerve.”

  “It gets worse.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Well…I think he likes me for more than just the sex.”

  “Again, what a bastard.”

  Suddenly Suzanne laughed. Just as she’d always laughed in the face of such emotion. It felt good.

  “Oh, honey. Give it up. Marry him.”

  Suzanne’s amusement faded. She stared at Taylor, utterly confused, and miserable in it. “You’re as crazy as he is.”

  “Really? What else is he doing to you besides the gifts and great sex?”

  “He won’t get out of my head, that’s what!”

  Taylor grinned. “He’s at the Pasadena Target store, taming a humungous set of palm trees.”

  The store wasn’t far at all. She could march over there and tell him this was not funny, that he had to knock it off, and still be back in half an hour. “Thank you,” she said, and shocked them both when she hugged Taylor.

  Taylor squeezed her back. “What’s this for?”

  “For laughing at me. I needed that.”

  She was halfway to the door when Taylor called out. “You going to give him hell, or a big, fat, juicy kiss?”

  “Hell,” said Suzanne, a thought straight from her head.

  But her heart cried out for the big, fat, juicy kiss.

  HELD UP BY safety gear, Ryan carefully balanced himself about sixty feet above ground, one foot braced on the roof of the building, the other on his rig ladder. Time to tackle a palm tree.

  While he contemplated his next move, something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. A figure striding directly toward Russ on the ground.

  A wildly curved, wildly red-haired figure. Her arms were full, her posture animated.

  And even at sixty feet, he could feel the fury.

  “You’ve got company,” Rafe noted from his high perch.

  As if Ryan hadn’t already felt her. As if his entire body hadn’t leapt to hopeful attention. “I see her.”

  They started down. Suzanne’s gaze landed on him and never wavered.

  He wondered if that was good or bad.

  Bad, he decided, when he caught a glint of the emotion in her eyes.

  When his feet touched the ground, she stalked toward him, balancing the things in her arms to free up a hand so she could poke him in the chest with her finger. “You.”

  “Me,” he agreed, rubbing his chest. Ouch. “It’s, uh, good to see you.” She was wearing hip-hugging sweats and a little tank top, showing off the body that made him want to beg. God, he missed her. “How are you?”

  “I would be just fine, thanks, except you’ve been leaving me gifts.”

  “Yes.”

  “You bought me cooking utensils.”

  Blatantly eavesdropping, Rafe took off his hard hat and sidled up closer.

  “I did buy you utensils,” Ryan agreed. “For your business.”

  “Why?”

  Ryan glanced at Russ, who was also apparently unconcerned about eavesdropping, as he’d moved in to hear, too.

  “Ryan?” Suzanne’s arms were crossed, her foot tapping the asphalt as she not-so-patiently waited.

  “Why did I buy you cooking utensils?” Ryan scratched his head and tried to figure out if that was a trick question.

  “Yes, why did you buy me cooking utensils? It’s a straight-forward question, Ryan.”

  Oh, she looked magnificent, and furious.

  And confused.

  It was the last that broke Ryan’s heart. “Because they were beautiful and reminded me of you. Suzanne, you cook.” He lifted a hand. “It made sense to me.”

  “Oh, man, you bought her cooking utensils?” Rafe shook his head. “Should have stuck with flowers, bro. Chicks like flowers.”

  Ignoring that, Suzanne thrust out a votive candle. “What about these?”

  “You bought those, too?” Russ winced and sent Ryan a pitying look. “Ah, jeez. It’s like watching my idol fall right in front of me.”

  Shooting his brothers dirty looks was a huge waste of time. Ryan did it anyway, but they didn’t budge. Fine. He’d kill them later. Facing Suzanne, he said, “I bought those because the scent reminded me of you.”

  “Oh, dude…” Rafe groaned. “You’re going down.”

  “They…reminded you of me?” Suzanne stared down at the offending candles, then clutched them to her chest as if they were a dozen roses. “Really?”

  Ryan nodded, a little confused himself now. Was he still in trouble? Or was he back in her good graces? His head was spinning.

  “He meant to buy you flowers and make you dinner and light those candles,” Russ said, stepping forward. “He just gets all mixed up sometimes. It’s his age.”

  “I didn’t get it mixed up,” Ryan said, hoping to God he was right. He had no clue, and Suzanne standing there in her little itty-bitty tank top and belly-baring sweats, with her hair wild and free, her face void of makeup, looking for all the world like she just stepped out of bed, gave him no clue.

  All he knew was that he wanted to move close and touch her. So he did.

  “He’s just been so swamped becoming a landscape architect,” Rafe said just as Ryan lifted a hand. “Or he would have been more romantic.”

  With Ryan’s fingers on her face, Suzanne turned her lips into his palm. Kissed him. “It was romantic,” she whispered.

  Ryan’s heart leapt into his throat. She got it. She really got it. She understood. She thought the gesture of buying her such personal gifts was romantic.

  Thank God.

  “The gifts were purchased just for me,” she said to Russ and Rafe.

  Oh yeah, she got it. “Yes,” Ryan said. “Just for you.” There was no one else. There would never be anyone else.

  “They’re wonderful,” she said to him now. “Wonderful and thoughtful, and…and they made me feel special.”

  Ryan was pretty much glowing. From the sexual energy, no doubt. From her words and the meaning behind them, too.

  And rational or not, hope surged within him.

  He just m
ight get lucky tonight. He could almost taste her now. And with his arms around her he could convince her how good they were together….

  “What I want to know is,” she continued softly, staring right at him. “Why?”

  And that was when Ryan got a few important life lessons. First, buying a girl a present was not a direct pass to her bed.

  And second, he had no clue what did constitute that pass.

  But he could see her mistrust and fear clear enough, and because of that he managed to realize something else. Matters of the heart, specifically hers, couldn’t be handled with a few little tokens.

  Nope, if he wanted her love—which he definitely did—he’d have to earn it.

  The hard way. “I bought you those things to make you feel good. To make you smile.”

  “Not to soften me up so I’d…” She lowered her voice so only he could hear. “So I’d sleep with you again?”

  Ah, hell. Nope. No way would he admit to that temporary crack in good judgment. “Just to make you smile,” he repeated, and was rewarded with exactly that.

  So when she started to walk away, her hips swinging in such a way that drew his eyes, it took him a moment to assimilate she was leaving. “Hey!”

  She just kept walking.

  What the hell? “Suzanne?” He drew all sorts of snickers from his crew when he went running after her. Catching up to her at her car, he spun her around.

  She was still smiling, so prettily just for him, that he couldn’t help but smile back. “You came to just smile at me and leave?”

  “No. I came to get mad at you, but I don’t feel mad anymore.”

  “Let’s have lunch.”

  “It’s too early.”

  “Breakfast then.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Suzanne.” He let out a little laugh. “You’re driving me crazy here.”

  “I know.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “Me, too. I’m sorry. I’m a little confused, Ryan. I just need to think.”