by Tiffany Snow
But not anymore. Enough. It was done. Parker would exercise self-control and ignore the jealousy, because otherwise he’d never let Sage find someone, and she deserved to be happy.
Even if it was with Ryker, the closest friend he’d ever had, who now hated him beyond all reason.
CHAPTER ONE
Four Months Later
It’s amazing how sleeping with a hot guy with rock-hard abs provides motivation to get one’s ass to the gym.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I sweated my way through twenty minutes on the elliptical. I watched the closed-captioning scroll across the mounted television tuned in to the news, increasingly resentful of the female anchor with perfectly toned and tanned legs on display.
Finally, the timer beeped and I turned off the machine, stepping back to the floor with legs that felt like rubber. Megan bebopped up to me, her ponytail bouncing with each step.
“I always feel so energized after I work out,” she said, grinning.
I stared daggers at her. “I hate you so much right now,” I panted, still trying to catch my breath. Megan was petite and tiny with a personality I adored … usually. We’d worked together at KLP Capital for almost two years now.
“C’mon, Sage, you know you’ll feel better after a shower.” She grabbed my elbow and dragged me with her to the locker room. “Then we’ll have lunch. I know this great new sushi place just around the corner.”
The prospect of food made me perk up a little and I glowered slightly less. By the time I’d cleaned up, blown my hair dry, and added some makeup, I was congratulating myself on how healthy and diligent I was to get up early on a Saturday to go work out. Which lasted precisely as long as it took to walk to the sushi place and see the donut shop next door.
“So how’s Armed and Delicious?” Megan asked, biting into a powdered donut.
I answered around a mouthful of strawberry jelly. “Ryker’s fine,” I said. “He had to work late. Was still asleep when I left. So … I guess we’re kinda … living together now?” I meant it as a statement but it came out as a question.
Megan’s chewing ground to a halt. “Kinda?” she asked, mouth full. She swallowed. “How do you kinda live with someone?”
“Well, I gave him a key, because his hours are so weird,” I explained. “And now he just comes by when he gets off—whenever that is—and stays. He gets up when I leave for work and has a cup of coffee with me, goes home and sleeps, then the process kind of repeats. So is that living together?”
“Does he have clothes and toiletries at your apartment?” she asked.
I thought about it. “A toothbrush and a few changes of clothes,” I admitted. “Sometimes he showers there, so yeah, there’s some of his stuff.”
“Congratulations,” she said. “Your boyfriend is living with you and you didn’t even know it.”
I rolled my eyes at her dry sarcasm, taking a sip of my coffee. It was chilly and rainy today—autumn was rolling in—and the coffee was like a soothing blanket.
“So is this a good development or bad?” she asked, peering in the bag for another donut.
“Good, I think,” I said. “It just snuck up on me, that’s all.”
“It sounds like things are progressing,” she said. “You’re sleeping with him, it’s a given that you’re together as much as possible, and now you’re ‘kind of’ living together.” She used quote-y fingers for kind of. “Isn’t that what you want?”
Parker’s face drifted through my mind. I shoved it away. “Yeah,” I said. “It just seems a bit … fast, that’s all. We’ve only been seeing each other for a little over four months. Do you think that’s fast?”
She shrugged. “I think that’s up to you and Ryker.”
“It feels right, I guess. It wasn’t like we had a conversation about it. Like last night, he didn’t get there until almost three in the morning.”
I didn’t mention how I hadn’t thought he was going to come over, not when he’d called and said he had to work late. But then I’d woken to the feel of his body against my back and his arm slung over my waist.
“What’re you doing here?” I’d murmured, reaching behind me to push my fingers into his hair.
He’d nuzzled my neck, his lips pressed to the tender spot beneath my jaw. “Couldn’t stand not seeing you,” he’d whispered in my ear.
Ryker was a hard-as-nails homicide detective for the Chicago PD. To say he wasn’t the type to “share his feelings” was an understatement. So when he said that, my eyes had flown open in surprise.
“Really?” I asked, turning in his arms. Our relationship was still new and we’d both shied away from any big declarations.
“Really.”
He’d made short work of the pajamas I’d worn to bed, his hands skating down my hips to my thighs as he moved above me. His lips met mine and I slipped his dog tags around to his back from where they’d rested against me.
I was lost in the memories of what had happened next when I heard my name.
“Hey, Sage. Snap out of it.”
I glanced over at Megan, sheepish, but she was grinning.
“You’re hopelessly whipped,” she said, rolling her eyes at me.
“I’m not whipped,” I protested. “I’m just … heavily in like.”
“So we’re not mentioning the other L-word?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s only been four months.”
“Which is longer than any other relationship you’ve had in the past two years,” she said. “I’m surprised Parker’s allowed it.”
My smile faded at the mention of my boss, Parker Anderson. I knew Megan was kidding … sort of. My work had intruded on my personal time ever since I’d begun my job almost two years ago as Executive Administrative Assistant to Parker Anderson, Director of Investment Analytics at KLP Capital, which was the investment bank in Chicago.
Four months ago, that changed. Whereas I used to get calls at all hours—and I did literally mean all hours—from Parker for various work things, now he rarely called in the evening, and never on the weekends. I should be glad for the space he’d given me. And I was.
Sort of.
“It’s not up to Parker to allow anything,” I said. “It’s my life.”
“And you’re sleeping with his arch-nemesis,” she reminded me.
“So they had a falling-out. It was forever ago.” I shrugged, popping the rest of the donut into my mouth.
“It was over a woman and they still hate each other,” she said. “It’s not like they’re let-bygones-be-bygones kind of guys.”
That much was true. Parker and Ryker actively despised each other, which was kind of sad, considering how they’d been best friends all through childhood, even going as far as to join the Marines together. A woman named Natalie changed all that. They both fell in love with her, and now she was dead.
“I thought you were all about me not letting Parker and my job take over my life,” I reminded Megan. “You should be glad he’s backed off, not giving me trouble about it.”
“I am glad he’s been a lot less of a jerk to you than usual,” she amended, primly blotting her lips with a napkin. “I was just kind of wondering if you are.”
I didn’t have a response to that, and still didn’t even after she’d dropped me back at my apartment. Parker and I had always had a good working relationship—professional and intuitive. I’d liked and admired him from nearly the first time we’d met and he’d given me the job, despite my woeful lack of experience. I’d worked hard for him and the job was a good one. I hadn’t complained at the hours or how often he began contacting me when I wasn’t technically on the clock.
And if part of the reason for that was that I’d fallen in love with him, well, no one had to know that but me.
As an only child to wealthy parents who were still in love even after thirty years of marriage, it was good to feel needed. Because that’s how Parker made me feel. Indispensable. Even if he didn’t look at me the sa
me way I looked at him.
When I’d finally realized that Parker didn’t reciprocate my feelings and never would, I’d decided I wasn’t going to let an infatuation with my boss hold me back from pursuing a relationship with Ryker. Ryker was a good man who wanted me, desired me, and made my pulse climb whenever he was near.
As though the thought had conjured him, Ryker poked his head out of my kitchen when I pushed open my apartment door. He’d obviously just showered, since his dark hair was still wet and he wore only a pair of jeans. The dog tags he never took off dangled from his neck as he headed for me.
“You were gone when I woke up,” he said, brushing a kiss to my lips.
“I promised Megan we’d work out this morning,” I said. His hands had settled firmly on my hips, pulling me against him. “She’d have killed me if I bailed on her.”
“What do you want to do today?” he asked.
“You don’t have to work?”
“Nope. I’m all yours.”
A whole Saturday just to spend together without either of us having to work was an unexpected pleasure. He’d been working so much lately, we hadn’t had time to just be together.
“I just need to run home and take care of McClane first,” he said.
I grimaced at the mention of Ryker’s huge police dog. The canine had flunked out of his training and Ryker had adopted him. I wasn’t a dog person, so of course McClane adored me.
Ryker’s phone buzzed and as he checked the text message, I began cleaning up the kitchen. Neither of us were amazing chefs, but between Ryker and me, we managed to cook a few nights a week.
“Hey, that’s a buddy of mine,” he said, coming up behind me. “Texting me, asking if we want to join him on his boat on the lake today.”
“What kind of boat?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter? It’s a beautiful and sunny September day, and winter will be here all too soon.”
“I like winter,” I protested, loading dishes into the dishwasher.
“You’re crazy,” he said. “Snow and ice, colds and flu. Winter sucks.”
“Christmas and fireplaces, sweaters and a white winter wonderland. It all depends on how you look at it, Mr. Cynical.”
Coming from behind me, he slid his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck. “Maybe if I have you to cuddle with in front of a fire, I won’t mind the cold as much.”
“Maybe not,” I agreed. Things were going well with Ryker. Too well. It was almost scary if I dwelled on it. So I didn’t.
“Go change and don’t forget your suit,” he said, pushing me toward the bedroom.
I supposed there were worse ways to spend a Saturday than lounging on a boat on Lake Michigan with my boyfriend.
I slipped my bikini on and wore my shorts and a T-shirt over it, layering on a light button-down shirt in case it got chilly this evening. I grabbed my sun bag with my hat and sunscreen, slipped on a pair of sandals, and was ready to go.
As expected, McClane was exceptionally enthusiastic to see me when we arrived at Ryker’s house, and I grimaced as he tried to lick any part of me he could reach.
“McClane! Sit!”
The dog obeyed Ryker’s command—eventually—his tail thumping the ground and his tongue lolling as he gazed up at me in adoration.
“If you’d just say hello to him, he’d leave you alone,” Ryker said, heading past me into the hallway that led to his bedroom.
“That is so not true,” I muttered.
“I heard that,” Ryker called out. I shot a glare down the hall.
Gingerly, I patted McClane’s head a couple of times. “Hi, McClane. Now stop trying to lick me.” As I’d feared, petting him only encouraged his enthusiasm. I squealed in dismay as he jumped up, placing his paws on my shoulders. A big warm puff of dog breath blew right in my face and I nearly gagged.
“McClane, get off her,” Ryker said, walking past again and snapping his fingers. The dog reluctantly sat back down on the floor, his ears drooping. The dejection on his face almost made me feel bad for him. Almost. I heard the sound of dog food rattling in the kitchen and so did McClane. His ears perked up and he was off like a shot.
I waited, not daring to get within McClane’s line of sight again, and Ryker came back from the kitchen. He’d changed into a white tank, a worn pair of jeans, and as I’d done, he’d thrown on an unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt over the top. His dog tags glinted in the sunlight as he climbed on his motorcycle and slid on mirrored shades.
Yum.
“Let’s go, babe.”
No need to tell me twice.
I put on the helmet I so disliked and climbed behind him on the back of the bike—a mode of transportation I was gradually becoming accustomed to, but doubted I’d ever feel safe doing—and wrapped my arms around his chest to hold on. It was hot today, already pushing the mid-eighties, and I could feel sweat trickling down my back.
Thirty minutes later, we were pulling in to a lot and parking. My legs felt numb from riding the bike and my knees were rubbery. The sudden quiet after the engine had been roaring in my ears was a welcome relief.
“So who’s the buddy?” I asked, following Ryker as he took my hand and began walking down the pier. I could smell the water now and there was a hard breeze blowing, easing the heat a bit.
“His name’s Troy and I served with him,” Ryker said, alluding to when he’d been in the Marines. “He’s a mechanic now, only works on the high-end luxury vehicles. Does pretty well, I think.” He stopped and pointed. “That’s his boat there.”
Shading my eyes since not even my dark sunglasses were doing the trick in the blazing sunshine, I looked where he was pointing. It was a beautiful cabin cruiser yacht, large enough for several people, and spotless. Yes, it looked like Troy did pretty well, indeed.
“C’mon,” he said, tugging my hand.
There were three women and two men already on board, along with two kids running around.
“Hey, Dean!” One of the women approached us. She was wearing a one-piece suit with a pair of cutoff shorts, and was obviously several months pregnant. She gave Ryker a hug. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too, Sammy,” he said. “How you been feeling?”
“I’m doing well, thanks,” she said, resting a hand on her stomach. She glanced expectantly at me.
“This is my girlfriend, Sage,” Ryker said.
“Nice to meet you,” I said as I shook hands with Sammy. She was a cute girl, probably about mid-twenties like me.
“Same here,” she said with a friendly smile.
“Where’s Cody?” Ryker asked.
“He’s still at work. He should be here soon.”
“Hey, Dean! About time you got here.”
One of the men had approached. He was a big guy with massive biceps and a bald head gleaming in the sun. His sunglasses hid his eyes from me, but his white teeth flashed in a grin. “Looks like you been busy.”
“Tyrone, my man, this is my girl Sage.”
“’Bout time you brought a lady ’round here,” Tyrone said. Rather than take the hand I held out, he wrapped an arm around me and squeezed. “You need to make an honest man outta him, Sage.”
I grinned back, liking Tyrone immediately. “Thanks for the advice.”
“Tyrone, leave the girl alone.”
I turned to see who I assumed was Tyrone’s wife. She slapped his arm playfully and he let me go, then introduced herself as Anisha.
The last couple on the boat were the boat owners—Amy and Troy—who also were the parents of the twins, Robin and Ricky. They were just as nice as the other friends of Ryker’s that I’d met. Cody showed up pretty quickly after that and it was obvious he was smitten with his pregnant wife, solicitously making sure she was comfortable and had everything she might need within easy reach.
And only as I watched Ryker help Troy unmoor the boat did it occur to me that all of Ryker’s friends were married, several already with children. Could it be I’d a
ctually found that elusive creature … a man who wanted to settle down? We hadn’t talked marriage and family, as I was a faithful adherent to the rule to never be the first to bring that up. Too many commitment-phobic men ran scared at the mere mention of the M-word.
The women were nice and easy to chat with as Troy steered us out onto Lake Michigan. Ryker reappeared with two beers, handing me one.
“Mooching off your friends?” I teased. I took a sip of the beer and tried not to grimace. It wasn’t my favorite drink, but I could choke one down if I had to.
He shot me a look. “You should see how much of my beer they drink when they come over to watch the Bears.”
I laughed and his lips lifted in a lopsided smile that made my breath catch. He’d taken off his tank and I got a real good look at Ryker’s sweat-dampened chest.
“Let’s see the suit,” he said, nodding toward my T-shirt. I’d gone shopping at the end-of-season sales and picked up a bikini I’d teased him about, but not let him see.
“Okay, but it’s fragile and for display only,” I warned him. “Don’t get me wet.”
Ryker’s grin widened and I blushed at my unintentional innuendo. He leaned closer. “No promises, babe.” His raspy voice in my ear sent a shiver down my spine.
I crossed my arms over my chest and tugged the T-shirt over my head. My apprehension over how the barely there beige crochet tie bikini looked was immediately set at ease when Ryker eased his sunglasses down to peer over them. His eyes drank me in and I didn’t hesitate to shuck the shorts, too.
Handing him my bottle of sunscreen, I asked, “Put some lotion on my back?”
“I’d rather put it on your front,” he teased.
“I’m sure you would.”
The guys all gathered together once the boat was out a ways and the women likewise were stretched out side by side on the deck.
“So where did you and Dean meet?” Amy asked me, adding water to Robin’s tippy cup.
