The New Guy

by Kathryn Freeman

  Ryan held his gaze. ‘You think I see you any other way?’

  Lucas’s expression lost some of its fierceness. ‘Okay then. I just wanted to make sure.’

  Feeling unsettled, Ryan rose to his feet and grabbed the towel from the end of the bed. Tension still hung in the air and Ryan knew that however much he and Lucas had bonded, the guy was still very much in Sam’s camp. Ryan would always be the one on the outside. ‘You assume it’s Sam who’ll get hurt,’ he threw at Lucas as he stood in the doorway. ‘Yet she’s the one who holds all the power.’

  The words stuck with him as he headed down the corridor towards the shower. He suddenly had this vivid picture of him panting after Sam, like a mongrel on heat. Was that how it felt to her? The scruffy mutt, desperately chasing after the glossy red setter?

  He shook the image away, pretty certain it wasn’t how Sam saw him. Yet equally she didn’t think enough of him to want to risk more than a quick, though he had to say bloody incredible, tryst on the beach.

  The thought stung, because he wanted more than that.

  Yet as he soaped himself down in the shower he acknowledged that such was his fascination with her, if the chance for a repeat presented itself, he’d dive straight in without a second thought.

  The meeting that was to decide the future of the company – Sam’s words, not his – was to be held in the main house. Ryan walked over with Lucas, and they bumped into her parents in the kitchen.

  Lucas, who clearly knew them well, immediately shook Mr Huxton’s hand – Bob’s hand – and gave Sam’s mother a kiss on both cheeks. Ryan wanted to scoff and call him smarmy, but Lucas’s style was effortless, much like Sam’s. As he stood watching him, Ryan felt rough and unsophisticated.

  ‘Hello, Ryan.’ Sam’s mum – Helen – caught his eye and smiled over at him.

  ‘Hello.’ He cleared his throat. Should he kiss her cheek like Lucas had? Like she had when she’d said goodbye to him after the meal? But knowing him he’d miss and get her ear. Worse, her mouth, and she’d think he was coming on to her.

  Moving easily towards him, she took the whole initiative out of his hands by reaching up on her toes and kissing both of his cheeks. ‘It’s lovely to see you again.’

  Christ, he could feel a flush creep up his neck, just as it had the last time she’d done that. He didn’t even know why. Embarrassed because he’d not taken the initiative, like Lucas had? Maybe.

  Or maybe it felt good to feel accepted by the mum of the woman he was fast becoming obsessed with.

  He had no time to freak out about which it was because now Bob was shaking his hand. Not as warm as his wife, his manner more reserved. More cautious. His questions asked more out of politeness than genuine curiosity. Had Ryan had a chance to see much of Cornwall yet – no. Had he swum in the sea yet – yes, last night. Because I smelt of your daughter, and I didn’t want my roommate getting suspicious. Words he managed to keep to himself.

  ‘Well, we must dash.’ Helen went to pick up her handbag from the kitchen worktop. ‘We don’t want to get in trouble with our daughter. Sam expressly told us she wanted us out of the house by 9.30am.’

  Lucas laughed. ‘I see you’re scared of her, too.’

  ‘Of course.’ Bob’s gaze drifted over to Ryan. ‘She may look soft and easygoing, but she’s a demon when crossed.’

  Was it his imagination, or had Sam’s dad just fired him a warning shot? Lucas waited until they were out of earshot before starting to laugh. ‘Well, well, looks like Bob has you on his radar.’

  Ryan swallowed his unease. He’d had the same feeling during dinner at the pub. Not dislike, exactly. More a sense the man was watching him carefully. ‘Must think I’m some thug out to damage his daughter’s company.’

  Lucas eyed him speculatively. ‘Or maybe he thinks you’re some thug out to sleep with his daughter.’

  Ryan made himself laugh. ‘Good try, but I’m not daft enough to rise to that bait.’ He glanced down at his watch, more to avoid Lucas’s prying eyes than to see what the time was. ‘Better head to the meeting before she turns demon on us both.’

  Sam tried to keep her enthusiasm levels high. Tried to keep the smile on her face, and the optimism in her voice.

  Inside, her hopes for the day were plummeting fast. They’d been at this for seven hours, and all they’d come up with was more of the same. Most ideas boiled down to altering the user input into the app. Something Ryan stubbornly, and consistently, told them wasn’t the answer.

  ‘I’ve told you before. The app can’t find information if you don’t give it a hint where to look.’ Hours of building frustration had begun to give his voice a hard edge. ‘Do you know how many companies are out there? I can’t programme an app to look at every frigging one of them. We’ve got the input part right, especially now the app can use the email address to search through the user’s junk mail. Don’t you think Lynch would have simplified the user set-up on his own app, if he could?’

  ‘Fine.’ Becky looked as frazzled as Sam felt. ‘We hear you. But it would be nice if we also heard some solutions, rather than the same old negative comments.’

  ‘I’m a software developer,’ Ryan shot back. ‘I write code, programmes, applications. Ideas are your job.’

  As Becky squared her shoulders ready to retaliate, Sam held up her hand. ‘Enough. We’re not going to get anywhere if we snipe at each other.’ From her seat on the sofa Becky caught Sam’s eye, her expression full of apology. Ryan just clenched his jaw and stared down at his notepad. ‘Why don’t we take ten minutes to cool down and get some fresh air.’

  There was a murmur of approval as everyone stood and stretched their legs, following each other out through the open French doors and onto the patio.

  Becky hung back. ‘Tough day.’ She walked up to Sam and squeezed her hand. ‘Not quite going to plan, is it?’

  ‘We’ll get there.’ Though Sam was starting to fear it was an empty platitude. They had some ideas, sure, but none would fulfill the it will deliver more promise she’d made to the market in her press release. At this rate Privacy 2 was going to be nothing more than a dull copy of Damien’s app. ‘I see you and Ryan are back to being squabbling siblings again.’

  Becky snorted. ‘I can’t help it if the guy winds me up. This is a brainstorm. He’s supposed to be adding ideas, not shooting them down.’

  ‘To be fair, his job is to tell us what’s possible and what’s not,’ Sam replied mildly. ‘There’s no point us getting excited about something if ultimately it can’t be done.’

  ‘I know.’ Becky grinned wickedly. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t wind him up now and again. A girl has to get her kicks somewhere.’ She gave Sam a sly look. ‘And considering how late you finally made it back to your room last night, I can guess where you’re getting yours.’

  Sam cursed her fair skin as she felt heat sting her cheeks. She might have known Becky would bring up her nocturnal activities at some point, but she couldn’t cope with a dissection of them now. Not when she had so much resting on the outcome of today. And not when she was so confused about what she was doing with Ryan.

  Automatically her eyes sought him out. There he was, sitting alone on a bench outside, staring out to sea. Was he thinking about last night, too? Thinking about her? Or was he just frustrated with the whole two days away and wishing he was back at his desk, with his codes?

  Sam pushed the thoughts away. Ignoring Becky’s curious look, she strode over to the flipchart, which looked incongruous alongside the turquoise velvet sofas and tasteful mahogany furniture of her parents’ sitting room, and turned to a clean page. Picking up a marker pen, she drew four large boxes. The first she labelled ‘user experience’, the second ‘accuracy’, the third ‘outputs’. In the fourth, she put a question mark.

  As she wrote, she was aware of people making their way back inside. Though her back was to them, she knew immediately who had walked up to her. Who was standing behind her now, his body not quite touching hers, his unique
smell sending ripples of awareness down her spine.

  ‘I can see why you didn’t go into art.’

  Slowly she turned to face Ryan. ‘There’s beauty in everything, if you know where to look.’

  His dark eyes swept over her face. ‘Trust me, I know.’

  The husk of his voice sent her insides into a fluttering, squirming, chaotic mess. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she cursed her giddy reaction to him. She was more collected, more steady, than this.

  Taking a deliberate step away, she poured herself a glass of water from the jug on the coffee table. By the time she looked up again, he was sitting in the seat he’d commandeered – the armchair by the fireplace. It suited him. His own personal space, away from everyone else.

  Sam dragged her eyes away. ‘Okay, guys, one last push before dinner.’ She pointed to the flipchart, and the wonky boxes she’d drawn. ‘So far today we’ve focused very much on the first three boxes, which are all about modifying what the Privacy app already provides. In this session I’d like us to focus on box four. Getting the app to do something entirely different.’

  ‘Like order a pizza?’ The joke came from Kerry and everyone laughed.

  ‘Preferably something aligned to our company mission.’ Sam smiled at Kerry. ‘But I like your thinking. Let’s get all those mad ideas out there. You never know, one of them may spark an idea we can build on.’

  For the next hour they fired all their wild thoughts at her. By the time the smell of barbecue wafted through the patio doors from where the catering crew had set up, Sam had a full flipchart and an exhausted team.

  What she didn’t have, she acknowledged with a sinking gut, was anything she could take back to the office to work into a plan.

  But that was her worry, not theirs, although if she couldn’t come up with something soon, it would be everyone’s worry. All their jobs would be on the line. Shaking off the despondency, she plastered on a bright smile and sent them off to wind down before dinner.

  As she walked past her, Becky looked pointedly over to where Ryan was still standing at the back of the room, hands in his pockets, and gave Sam a knowing wink.

  When the last person had left, Ryan strode over. ‘Did you get what you wanted?’

  ‘There are some great off-the-wall ideas.’ It wasn’t an answer, and they both knew it.

  Ryan sighed. ‘Crap.’

  A ball of emotion lodged in her throat. Whether it was from the crushing disappointment of the day, fear of what it meant, or simply the concern in his eyes, she didn’t know. ‘Yeah, crap is about right.’ She forced a smile. ‘But we’re in Cornwall, it’s a sunny evening and the barbecue smells flipping awesome. I’m off for a shower and then to have a very big drink.’

  ‘You don’t have to pretend, Sunshine Sam,’ he said quietly, running his index finger gently down her face. ‘Not with me.’

  The emotion returned, slamming back into her, this time bringing with it the prick of unshed tears. ‘Please, don’t. I can’t take you being kind right now.’

  He frowned, studying her for a second, before shaking his head and slipping his hand back into his pocket. ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a shit day sitting on my arse and being forced to listen to you lot spout a load of hot air. I’m heading to the sea to swim off my frustration. Catch you later.’ He paused just before stepping outside. ‘Oh, and you should check on that awesome barbecue. Smells like they’re cremating everything.’

  When he’d gone, Sam slumped down on the sofa, not sure whether to laugh or cry. In the end she managed a bit of both.

  Chapter 21

  The swim had done its job and Ryan felt a lot better as he strolled back up to the house. Relaxed enough, he figured, to tackle the two women who’d been in his thoughts today, for two very different reasons.

  Sam, he’d approach later. He’d seen how on edge she was at the end of the meeting. What she needed right now was someone who’d make her laugh and take her out of her head for a while. Though it gutted him to acknowledge it, that man wasn’t him. From the way Lucas was making a beeline for her, Ryan knew he didn’t have to worry. The guy, as always, had her back.

  It was daft to feel jealous as he watched the easy way Lucas hugged her. Or the way her face lit up a moment later as she gave him a playful shove.

  Didn’t stop him feeling it.

  Spotting Alice standing alone, staring down at her phone again, Ryan strode over to her. Just because he was crap at handling difficult, emotionally charged situations didn’t mean he shouldn’t try.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  Her head shot up. ‘Umm, thanks, but I’ve got one.’ She nodded to the untouched glass of wine on the table behind her.

  Great. Now what did he say? ‘Looking forward to heading back tomorrow?’

  A cloud crossed her face and Ryan mentally smacked himself round the head. She’s scared of her boyfriend, dimwit. That’s what you’ve come to talk to her about.

  She avoided his eyes. ‘Not especially. I like it here.’

  Silence descended.

  ‘Have you been to—’

  ‘Did you have a good—’

  Ryan winced, wishing once again that he had Lucas’s charm. Sam’s easy way with people. ‘You first.’

  ‘I just wondered if you enjoyed your swim.’ Alice slipped the phone she seemed glued to into her jeans pocket. ‘Lucas told us that’s where you’d headed.’

  ‘Yeah. Bracing, I think, is the word they use. Frigging freezing, too.’

  It squeezed a smile out of her. ‘I bet.’

  Another round of silence, though this time less tense. Ryan dragged in a lungful of air and decided to go for it. ‘Look, about what I said yesterday at dinner.’ Ignoring the way she stilled, he pushed on. ‘I’m not here to pry. It’s your business. But I’d hate you to go through what my mum did.’ As her eyes looked everywhere but at him, Ryan’s heart sank. Stupid to think he could help, just plain stupid. She was probably as scared of him as she was her boyfriend. ‘Just know I’m here if you need me for anything.’ When she said nothing, he let out a long, slow breath. ‘Okay. I’m going to check out the food.’

  He’d taken three steps away when he heard her quiet voice behind him. ‘Thank you.’

  He turned, nodded and gave her a small smile, which she reciprocated. Holding tight to the small victory, he ambled over to the giant barbecue, his stomach rumbling as he sniffed the smoky, chargrilled aroma.

  Becky appeared at his side, smirking up at him. ‘That’s the most animated I’ve seen you all day.’

  ‘I’m hungry.’

  ‘So I see.’ Her heavily lined eyes appeared to dissect him. ‘Sam didn’t get what she needed out of today.’

  ‘I know.’ The accusation in her stare pierced right through him. ‘You’re putting the blame for that on me?’

  Becky shrugged. ‘I don’t think you helped.’

  Annoyance vied with frustration. ‘You think I wasn’t trying?’

  She didn’t back down from his glare. ‘Let’s just say I’m reserving my judgment.’

  Yeah, he could see where this was heading. ‘You’re not just talking about today.’

  She gave him a small smile. ‘You’re smart. I’ll give you that.’

  ‘Smart enough to know when to leave a conversation.’ He nodded tightly over to where the caterers were now serving out the food. ‘Have a good evening.’ He’d only taken two steps when Becky’s words brought him to a halt.

  ‘It’s not personal, you know.’ She gave him a genuine smile. ‘I don’t think you’re half as miserable as you make out. Plus, I have a sneaking admiration for your particular brand of honesty. It’s refreshing.’ Her smile faded. ‘But I told you before, if you hurt Sam, I’ll cut off your balls.’

  Inside his shorts, he felt them shrivel. ‘Only if Lucas hasn’t throttled me first.’

  Becky put a hand to her mouth and started to laugh. ‘Poor you, looks like you’ve had a two-pronged attack. Better make
sure you don’t screw up.’

  He laughed bitterly to himself as he turned away. Hard to screw up something he wasn’t being given the chance to start. And seems both Becky and Lucas thought if he ever did get lucky enough to go out with Sam, he’d be dumb enough, mean enough, bastard enough, to hurt her.

  Clearly he still had a long way to go to earn their trust.

  Of course, though their reactions didn’t say much about him, they said volumes about the woman who inspired that sort of fierce loyalty.

  After the food had been eaten, the wine drunk and people had started to make their way to bed, Ryan wandered into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. That was where he finally found Sam, putting containers of leftover salad into the fridge. She looked weary. Not defeated, like the time he’d seen her crying in her office, but down.

  ‘Most people I know go out of their way to avoid salad.’

  Her head shot up and she rolled her eyes. ‘Let me guess. Real men don’t eat salad?’ She frowned. ‘No, wait, that was quiche, not salad, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I’m not a fan of either.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t be. Then again, I had you pegged as a steak and chips man, yet at the pub you ordered fish pie.’

  He could hardly tell her it was because he couldn’t afford the steak. ‘Both beat a custard pie with dodgy savoury filling.’

  A smile broke across her face, lifting some of the sadness from eyes he could stare into all day. ‘Good description.’

  She continued to fuss around in the kitchen, putting leftovers into plastic boxes and shifting things round in the fridge to squeeze them in. Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling frustrated. He couldn’t talk to her here, in her parents’ kitchen, and she seemed in no hurry to leave. Finally, he blurted. ‘Do you fancy a walk?’

  After slotting yet another container into the Tardis-like fridge, she slowly turned to face him. ‘A walk?’

  ‘Yeah, you know. One foot in front of the other.’

  ‘Where?’