by Taylor Dean
His eyes search mine, seeing far more than I want him to see.
“Huh. A lot has happened while I’ve been gone. Regardless, Ryker’s a lucky man.”
I look down at the ground. “Thank you.”
I feel like such a fraud representing myself as Ryker’s girlfriend. I don’t think I’ll carry that title for much longer.
The thought has invaded my senses and it won’t leave me alone.
chapter seven
~
WHEN I LOOK back up at Zane, my cheeks pinken as I realize his eyes are unashamedly wandering up and down, checking me out. I’m wearing my skinny jeans, a flowy top, and cute ballet flats. I’ve felt cute and confident all day. But this is the first time I’ve felt looked at. The weight of his gaze flusters me.
His bare chest and abs are still blatantly staring at me. They have no manners whatsoever.
He seems to realize he’s staring and turns his attention back to Arthur. “Articus, my main man, how’s it going?” He leans down and picks Arthur up with one hand. “Hey, buddy. You gotta stop with the shaking. You’ll never get yourself a girl this way.” Zane glances my way. “Girls sense fear and will eat you alive. Just saying.”
I cast him a smirk.
Zane kneels down, placing his cereal bowl on the floor. “Here you go, buddy. Go for it, get milk drunk. No regrets.”
Artie goes to town, lapping like he’s dying of thirst.
“I . . . I don’t think he should have that. It might give him the runs and . . .”
“Add a bit of color to the blinding white carpet? Might be an improvement.”
“Gross.” But that merits a giggle.
“Yet, so true.”
Now I know why Ryker doesn’t have the sense of humor gene. Zane took it all, leaving Ryker with nothing.
I pull myself together quickly. I don’t trust this man who has invaded my space. I have been warned about him. I take a deep breath, preparing to give him his marching orders, but I’m distracted when Zane continues to speak to Artie in a ridiculously mushy voice while he rubs his neck.
“Is that so good, Articus? So, so good, right, my little man? You’re just so gosh darn cute, yes you are.”
Ryker always talks to Arthur as though he’s having a serious conversation with an adult. It drives me crazy.
Zane goes on. “Just a tiny hunk of cuteness, that’s what you are.” He picks him up, letting Arthur give him a lick-kiss on his lips.
I love seeing a grown man make a fool of himself.
I admit, I let Artie give me a lick-kiss every once in a while. But not while Ryker’s watching. It grosses him out.
“Articus?” I ask.
“He doesn’t look like an Arthur to me.”
Not to me either. Ryker hates when I call his dog Artie. His head would explode if he heard Zane calling his dog Articus.
Both Zane and Arthur turn their attention on me. Zane says, “You gonna stand there all night?”
Zane is not exactly threatening. I’m feeling more comfortable by the moment. “Are you gonna prance around half naked all night?”
“I didn’t know I’d be having company.”
“No, let’s get one thing straight. I’m the one having company. You are invading my home.” I cover my eyes. “Can you put your abs away, please? We need to talk this out.”
Zane laughs and removes the damp towel from around his neck, tossing it on the coffee table. That right there is enough to make Ryker have a heart attack. He grabs a white v-neck t-shirt that he left discarded on the couch and quickly dons it while juggling Arthur.
He studies me. “You know, you’re not Ryker’s usual type.”
“Does Ryker have a type?”
“Yes, he does. Most of them are forever flirty, blond, spend their lives in pursuit of the perfect leather purse, and think weekly manicures are a necessity, not a want.”
I cringe. Most of them? How many have there been? “Then, no. I’m not his type. My purse is genuine faux-leather. And I’m happy with it.”
Zane laughs again. I don’t join him. I’m not Ryker’s type. A disturbing thought, and yet, I think I already knew it.
“Judging by your short nails, I’d say you’re a pianist.”
“What makes you say that?”
“That monstrosity over there in the corner does not belong to Ryker and he can’t hold a tune if his life depended on it. It must be yours.”
“Yes, it is.” Good deductive skills. Or maybe it’s obvious.
“All right, Miss Mila. Let’s talk this out. What’s the deal? Can I stay here? I promise you won’t even notice I’m here. In spite of what you’ve more than likely heard about me, I’m not a serial killer and I won’t rob you or attack you in your sleep. So, you can stop hugging the door and relax.”
“I’m not . . .” Yeah, I am. I’m standing by the front door, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.
“Yes, you are.”
He takes one step toward me and I instinctively back up, pressing against the door even harder.
“I rest my case,” he says, his eyes locked with mine.
I feel like a wimp, so I take one step into the room, just to show him who’s boss. I don’t fool anyone. “Sorry, you’re a stranger to me. And Ryker said . . .”
“Ryker said what?”
Not to trust him. But I won’t say that out loud. “Like I said, that you wouldn’t show up, that you were overseas. I didn’t expect this.”
“True. I was stationed at Baumholder Army Base in Germany, but my assignment has changed. I’m no longer deployed overseas. I wanted to be close to my father, so I did some finagling. Lucky me, my new assignment is right here in good old Fog City. I’m home to stay. I’m sure my family will be thrilled. I’ll get myself a place to stay and be out of your hair in no time.”
“Deployed? Are you military?” I was led to believe he was an irresponsible bum who traipsed the world at his whim. He’s actually employed? Debra and Ryker left out a few important details when talking about Zane.
“Yes, Army. I now command the 108th Ordnance Detachment, EOD. We can be set up anywhere in the world where there’s a need. Currently we’re in a run-down abandoned fire station on the old presidio. My new office. I take over in a week.”
“EOD?”
“Explosive Ordnance Disposal. The Army’s bomb squad.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Not if you know what you’re doing.” He sighs. “Look, Mila, I’ll leave and get myself a hotel. This isn’t going to work. I’m clearly making you uncomfortable and I don’t mean to. I’m sorry I scared you, I really am.”
He looks at me directly, his eyes clear and bright. Honestly, he seems like a really nice, pleasant guy. He’s given me no reason to fear him. Not one.
Ryker mentioned he made a good first impression. I would agree. Therefore, I should be wary, keep my guard up.
He goes on before I can respond. “Ryker gave me a key, said I was welcome anytime. I had no idea he was out of town already or that you were staying here.”
He rakes one hand through his short hair, his biceps bulging. They have no manners either and have never learned not to stare.
He nods, his decision made. “I’ll leave. It’s for the best.”
He sets Arthur down and kneels next to his suitcases. He gathers up his things and stuffs them inside his luggage. Soon the metallic sound of a zipper echoes through the space.
Arthur looks at me with sad eyes and whines like he’s distressed. He’s a good judge of character and very particular about who touches him or holds him. Zane can’t be all bad.
But I’m not about to decide whether or not to let a man stay here because of a dog’s preferences.
Ryker said he likes to keep his enemy close. That’s why he lets Zane live in his home. Perhaps keeping Zane here would be what Ryker would want. I should at least let Zane stay here until I speak with Ryker about the situation. Besides, this is his brother. His family.
“Wait,” I say. “It’s not my decision to make. This is your brother’s home, not mine.”
“The more I think about it, I doubt he’d want me to stay here with his . . . almost fiancé. I know what his answer will be. It’s best if I go.”
His tune changed quickly, and mine right along with it. Our roles have reversed. I sort of want to laugh aloud at the way we’re dancing around each other.
“No, he opened his home up to you. You’re welcome to stay.”
He stills. “Are you sure?”
No, not entirely. But I think it’s what Ryker would want. Besides, I’m suddenly overwhelmed with a ridiculous curiosity about Ryker’s black sheep of a brother who doesn’t appear to be at all the kind of man that was described to me.
I want him to stay. I want to know more about him.
“Yeah. It’s only for a short time. It’ll be fine.”
He unfolds his body until he’s upright. I feel like he’s towering over me, every bronzed inch of him. Gulp.
“All right, then. Thank you. Only until I find housing, of course.”
“But I should warn you, I’m a pianist, as you guessed. I practice piano six plus hours a day. Is that going to annoy you?”
He blinks heavily, his eyes guarded. “Not at all. I’d love to hear you play.”
“Even at six in the morning?”
“I’m an early riser. Can’t think of a better alarm clock.”
He grants me a warm smile that does funny things to my insides. It’s because he’s a lot like Ryker and I miss him. That’s all.
“You don’t want to stay with your mother and father?” I ask.
“I’m not welcome there. Not on an overnight basis.”
Wisps of fear wander through me. And yet, I’m intrigued. “May I ask why?”
“It’s a long, complicated story with lots of family drama good enough for a daytime soap. If you’re asking if I did something to hurt them, the answer is no. It’s family dynamics and I’m on the outs.”
I want to pepper him with more questions, but I don’t. All in good time. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I swear I see a flash of pain cross his features. Subtle and fleeting. My curiosity is stoked. Who is this man I have been warned about?
He rubs his forehead. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m beat. How ‘bout pizza and a Netflix movie? A peace offering of sorts. My treat.”
It’s hard to keep up with my whirling emotions. One moment, I’m scared to death of him and telling him he must leave. The next, I’m telling him he can stay. Now we’re going to be movie watching buddies. This is crazy. Wild. Dangerous.
And yet . . . I accept. “You just spoke to my soul. Deal.”
“Pepperoni?”
“Double it.”
“Miss Mila, you just spoke to my soul. But first you have to trust me and move away from the front door and see what happens next. I dare you.” His eyes glitter at me.
“Challenge accepted,” I tell him with attitude. I step away from the door and his lips curve into a taunting half smile. I face him head on even though my heart’s beating wildly. “But I need to take Artie out for a walk or his bladder might explode.”
“Already took him out earlier.”
“Oh. Okay, thank you.”
“No excuses now.”
Ryker was right. Zane’s first impression lulls me into thinking he’s decent. A chill wanders up my spine. I shouldn’t be doing this.
The thing is, I’ve never been okay with someone telling me how I should feel about another human being. I think that’s my decision to make.
I walk into the living room and toss my lovely faux-leather purse on the couch, faking nonchalance. I follow, letting the soft cushions engulf my body. My earlier exhaustion is remembered.
“Living dangerously, huh?” he says.
We’re like two predators circling around, unsure of what the other will do.
My stomach tightens from the thrill. “You have no idea.”
chapter eight
~
I RECEIVE A text from Ryker early the next morning, just as I’m about to begin practicing.
Ryker: ZANE IS THERE?
Me: Are you yelling at me?
Ryker: No.
Me: Yes, the devil is here. Did you feel him invading your space all the way from Japan?
Ryker: Mom told me.
Me: Is she spying on me?
That would be just like her. Making sure I’m faithful or something.
Ryker: No, she keeps an eye on Zane.
Me: Really? You know that’s weird, right?
Ryker: Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.
Me: It’s no problem. He won’t be here long.
My phone rings almost immediately after I send my last text.
“I’m so sorry, Mila. I didn’t expect him to show up.”
Apparently, no one did. “Neither did I. It gave me quite the surprise. I nearly called 911. Scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I hope he hasn’t been horrible to you.”
“Not at all. Once everything was cleared up, we had pizza and watched a movie. It’s fine.”
Silence greets me for a full thirty seconds. “You and Zane watched a movie together?” he asks, alarm invading his voice.
“We did. He was very kind. He only tried to attack me twice.”
“Don’t trust him, Mila. It’s all a show. Underneath his façade, he’s a snake.”
I don’t see it, but I haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours. Ryker has a lifetime on me. We sat on the couch last night, two feet apart, eating pizza and watching a movie for several hours. He didn’t do anything untoward. He fell asleep and missed the ending of the movie, so I didn’t exactly feel threatened. I tossed a throw blanket over him—or maybe at him—and went to bed in my own room with the door locked for good measure. I can’t say I trust the guy, but a foundation has begun. If he keeps his distance, everything will be fine. My guard will be up whenever he’s around, that’s for sure.
“Duly warned. I’ll draw a line down your floor. His side and my side. If he crosses it, I’ll have him summarily executed by morning.”
“Seriously, Mila. My mother proved that Zane was stealing from my father’s business. He’s a thief. The knowledge destroyed my dad. Don’t leave anything of value out in the open.”
“Those are some serious accusations.” I know nothing about the circumstances and yet I find myself doubting it solely because Freddy “proved” it.
“They’re not accusations. They’re truth. My mother reported him to the police. An investigation is underway.”
If that’s true, then why hasn’t Zane been arrested? He’s innocent until proven guilty. In the eyes of the law . . . and in my eyes too. Freddy has the burden of proof.
“What’s Zane doing there? Did he say?” Ryker asks.
“He’s been stationed in San Francisco. He’s looking for housing, so he won’t be at your place for long. I figured you’d want me to let him stay. I mean, he is your brother. Your family. Was I wrong?”
Ryker scoffs. “I don’t want him there while you’re there,” he growls. It sounds like he’s speaking through gritted teeth as he hollers in that horrible business tone I don’t appreciate.
Silence abounds as imaginary crickets chirp. “Ryker?”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to take this out on you. I’m upset about his antics, as usual. He drives me crazy.” His voice is polished again. I feel like I witnessed a Jekyll and Hyde moment.
I think Ryker has the Freddy gene. He clearly hides it well. I’m not okay with that.
“Look, I’m busy, he’s busy. We’ll hardly see each other. It’ll be fine, really. He can stay, I don’t mind. If you want to kick him out, that’s up to you. But don’t give him the boot on my account. I’ve been on my own for a long time and I can handle it.” Gulp. Brave words. But this is my future brother-in-law—maybe—and it’s high tim
e peace prevailed in this family.
“I’ll call him and we’ll work it out. I’m so sorry this happened, Mila. Are you sure you’re okay?” While his tone sounds forced, he’s much calmer than earlier.
“I’m perfectly fine. Really.”
“All right. Be safe, sweetheart. I’m falling more each day. More and more. Please know that. I’ve gotta go. Talk more later.”
The connection is broken before I can say another word. He never plays the You Hang Up First game, thank goodness. But if he did, he’d always win.
I start my practice session with a conflicted heart.
Ryker Martel is telling me he loves me, even if he does use the term falling as his code word for I love you. I needed to hear it this morning to erase my growing doubts about us.
Hearing his worry over my safety helped to alleviate some of my concerns. I think he really does love me.
The thought should comfort me. It doesn’t.
Instead, I feel uneasy. Why do I have the urge to flee? To run as fast as I can and never look back?
I think it’s time to listen to my inner voice. It’s trying to tell me something.
chapter nine
~
A COUPLE HOURS later, Zane wanders into the room in his torn jeans and that’s all once again. When I see him in my peripheral vision, I stop what I’m playing and break out into The Entertainer. I cast him a cheesy grin.
He laughs aloud, a pleasant, throaty sound. He manages an exaggerated bow. “I’m here all night. And all day. And all night. For a while anyway.”
Yes, he is. I hope I don’t regret the choice to let him stay. “I’m not going to ask you again. Please put your abs away. They like to stare and it’s so rude.”
He throws his head back and laughs as he disappears into his room.
He actually laughed at something I said. Huh.
I admit, I enjoy the sound of his laughter. It invigorates me. It’s so easy and relaxed—and foreign. I guess I didn’t realize how much I miss laughter with Ryker. But then, no one is perfect, as my mom reminded me.
He returns with his signature white t-shirt on, but this time his sunglasses are tucked into the vee of his neckline. “Better?”
