The smart thing to do, the thing she was best at, was focusing on the positive. And, right now, she had a lot to be positive about.
“Appreciate you coming in on your day off.” Ryder nodded.
“Yes, thank you,” she agreed.
“You can name one of your kids after me and we’ll call it even.” Mack McCoy smiled. “Middle name is Joshua, just in case you don’t like Mack.”
She smiled, trying to find something to say. She’d been a little tongue-tied all morning, ever since she’d woken up with her cheek on Ryder’s bare chest, wrapped in his rock-hard arms.
“Morning, Mack.” Renata Boone’s singsong voice startled them all. “Saw your truck was out front so I thought I’d drop off those new tourism department brochures.”
They hadn’t really talked about how they were sharing their news with everyone. They hadn’t really talked about a lot of things. And now Ryder’s sister was here, staring at them in total confusion. “What’s happening?” Renata asked.
“Give your brother a hug, Renata. It’s not every day a man gets hitched.” Mack clapped Ryder on the shoulder.
“What?” Renata’s blue eyes went round. “Married?”
Annabeth waited, smiling what she hoped was a suitably excited smile.
Renata squealed, tossed the fliers she was holding onto the entry desk and hugged her brother. “It’s about time. I thought you’d never get the nerve up to ask her.”
Annabeth shot Ryder a look. He shrugged, hugging his sister. “You can’t rush these things.”
“Then why are you marrying her at the justice of the peace?” Renata let go of her brother and pulled Annabeth into a strong hug. “I’ll have to apologize for my brother, Annabeth. He’s not exactly a pro when it comes to romance.”
“No.” Annabeth smiled. “I liked the idea. Getting married here.”
“You did?” Renata asked.
“I’ve done the whole wedding thing,” Annabeth answered honestly. Even without the rush to the altar, she wouldn’t have wanted another big wedding. “I’m more interested in being married.” Married, to a partner, a friend, someone to rely on. She looked at Ryder, unnerved by the intensity in his pale blue eyes.
“When you put it that way, it makes perfect sense.” Renata smiled.
Annabeth didn’t resist leaning into Ryder when he slipped his arm around her waist. If anything, she wanted his support.
“You tell Dad?” Renata asked.
Ryder laughed. “It just happened.”
“Normally the family knows before it happens,” Renata argued. “You two might be fine without all the ceremony, but this town isn’t going to let that happen.”
Ryder shook his head. “Renata.”
“Come on, Ryder.” Renata frowned. “Annabeth’s the principal of the elementary school. You’re a Boone, your family built this town. There has to be a celebration. People will think it’s weird if we don’t.”
She has a point. “I don’t see the harm in a little get-together,” Annabeth agreed, shooting for enthusiasm. “Then we can tell everyone at once.” She smiled up at Ryder.
Ryder wasn’t sold on the idea. “You sure?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Nothing too big, I promise,” Renata went on. “I’ll take care of everything, don’t you worry. We’ll just open up the Lodge, invite...everyone.”
“Everyone?” Ryder asked.
Annabeth’s stomach rumbled, sudden nausea rising up.
“Didn’t you feed her before you came?” Renata asked. “Ryder Boone, you’ve spent too many years being doe-eyed over Annabeth. Now that you’ve got her, you better take care of her. You two go on and I’ll call you later, once everything’s set.” She paused, winking. “Maybe I’ll wait and call you tomorrow.”
Ryder Boone had never been doe-eyed, ever. But Annabeth was surprised by the pleasure Renata’s words gave her. She only had a few seconds to glance at Ryder—before being engulfed in another of Renata’s hugs—but there was no missing the color on his cheeks. Or the tightness in his jaw. Either he was irritated by his sister’s teasing or... No, he had not and would never be sweet on her. They were—and always had been—just friends. She thanked Mack McCoy and let Ryder lead her out of the small building.
“I can tell Renata to cancel the party, if you want?” Ryder offered.
Annabeth glanced at him. “If you don’t want to—”
“Didn’t mean that.” He smiled. “I can see that brain of yours working. Guess there’s a lot we need to talk about, huh?”
“The list keeps getting longer,” she agreed.
“Think you can stomach some pancakes or something first?”
Pancakes sounded good. “I’ll try.”
He took her hand in his and led her down the brick sidewalk toward Pop’s Bakery. “Might as well let Lola and Carl know, too. Between them and my sister, Stonewall Crossing will know you’re my wife before we’re done eating.”
Wife. “Ryder,” she murmured, pulling against him.
“What’s wrong, Princess?” His pale blue eyes bore into hers.
“It’s a lot,” she murmured, trying not to get distracted by the heat in his gaze...or the memory of the way he looked tousled and shirtless in her bed. “All of it.”
“I know.” His attention lingered on the ring on his left hand. “Let’s eat and go home.”
They hadn’t discussed that, either. “Home as in my place? Or home as in your apartment? Or, are you... If you don’t want...” She cleared her throat. “You don’t have to stay with me—”
He frowned. “The apartment won’t hold you, Cody and the baby.”
She looked around them, panicked that someone might hear him.
“Seems pretty pointless to get hitched if we’re not sleeping under the same roof.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down the street. “So I’ll be staying with you. Even if you’d rather I slept on the couch.”
He was right. In a town the size of Stonewall Crossing, there was no such thing as privacy or personal business. If their lightning-fast wedding didn’t cause a wave a gossip, the two of them living apart immediately after the wedding surely would.
“You’re right,” she murmured, confused and anxious.
Ryder’s pale blue eyes swept over her, the muscle in his jaw clenching briefly. “Still hungry?” His gaze was intense, further rattling her.
The knots in her stomach tightened. The last thing she meant to do was make him angry. But she’d gotten good at being on her own. Relying on him meant opening herself up, being vulnerable. She tried to explain. “Like I said, it’s a lot. I’ve been on my own for almost six years now—”
“You’re not alone anymore, got it?” he argued, his gaze falling to the sidewalk at their feet.
Maybe not right now. She wasn’t the only one whose world had been turned upside down overnight. He’d done everything he could to help, and she was holding him at arm’s length. “Got it.” He was frustrated and angry—and he looked adorable. There was no way she could stop the smile from spreading across her face. “I’m sorry.” She stepped forward, forcing him to look at her.
His gaze met hers as he let out a deep breath. The corner of his baby blues crinkled as he smiled. He shook his head at her, tugged her coat closed, and took her hand in his.
“You’re kinda cute when you’re angry, Ryder Boone,” she admitted.
He looked at her, one eyebrow cocked. “Hell, I’m cute all the time, Princess.”
She laughed, letting him lead her down Main Street to Pop’s Bakery.
* * *
RYDER’S PHONE WAS ringing before they reached the bakery. It was Hunter. And Hunter was the only one he didn’t want to talk to right now. He loved his big brother, but he�
��d be less likely to get all warm and fuzzy over his unexpected marriage than his sister.
“Need to get that?” Annabeth asked.
He shook his head. “Nope.” He silenced his phone and tucked it into his pocket.
“Ryder.” She tugged on his hand. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but maybe you should call your family?”
She was so pretty, she always looked so damn pretty. He studied her, enjoying the sight of his wife. He smiled, brushing a lock of her long golden hair from her shoulder. “Probably.” The tip of her nose was red from the cold air. “But it’ll take too long.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, typed a short text and sent it.
“Ryder.” She was clearly disappointed in him. Arms crossed, deep frown, hell, she was even tapping her foot.
He grinned. “Come on, Princess, let’s eat.” He held the door open for her.
“Morning, you two,” Carl Stephens called out. “What’s got you out and about on such a chilly morning?”
Ryder looked at Annabeth. She was blushing and he liked it. “Food,” Ryder answered.
“What’ll it be?” Carl asked. “The griddle’s still going if you want some pancakes? Or French toast?”
“Pancakes, please.” Annabeth nodded.
Ryder nodded, helping Annabeth shrug out of her coat. “Any chance of eggs and bacon or sausage, too?” He hung her coat over the back of her chair, then pulled the chair out for her.
“You bet. Help yourself to the coffee and all the trimmings. Lola’s got all those flavor things and sweeteners, in case you’re interested in making your coffee all fancy.” Carl was hovering, watching every move he made.
Ryder’s phone started vibrating again, bouncing off the metal button of his leather jacket. He saw Annabeth glance at him, her disapproving frown making him smile all the more. Something about his smile made her roll her eyes, and then he was laughing. And Carl, joined by Lola, looked back and forth between the two of them.
“Well, I’ll be,” Lola said, her eyes wide with excitement. “If that isn’t a ring I see on your finger, Ryder Boone.”
Carl bent forward, peering through the lower part of his glasses. “Is it?”
“Which means...” Lola turned to Annabeth, her hands clasped together and pressed to her chest.
Ryder watched the women, amused. His wife might not know it, but the flush on her cheeks told Lola the answer. He grinned as Annabeth held out her hand for the older woman’s inspection.
Lola clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I just knew it. Your momma would be proud, damn proud to see who you married.”
Ryder swallowed down the lump in his throat. He hoped so. He accepted Carl’s enthusiastic handshake and Lola’s hug before the rest of Pop’s Bakery learned the news and jumped up to join in. Annabeth stood at his side, pink-cheeked and gracious and beautiful. Not as beautiful as she’d looked this morning, sleepy-eyed and smiling against the pillows. Memory gripped him, the silken skin of her cheek against his chest, the whisper of her breath. He’d woken up and bolted from the bed straight into a cold shower. And if he didn’t think about something else real quick, everyone in Stonewall Crossing would know how much he wanted his wife.
“This is a surprise.” Winnie Michaels was all wide-eyed assessment. “I never pegged you as the marrying sort, Ryder.” Winnie smiled up at him. “Especially to someone as goody-goody as our Annabeth. Not your normal type—from what I hear anyway.”
Ryder heard the edge in Winnie’s voice. So did everyone else in the bakery. He knew some folks were going to give them a hard time—he expected it. But the slight tensing of Annabeth’s shoulders, the way her smile dimmed, made him fiercely protective of her. “I’m lucky she’d have me.” He took Annabeth’s hand in his. It was ice-cold to the touch. He slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side.
Winnie’s eyes narrowed. “Well, the timing is great. I mean, I’m sure she appreciates having someone to help out and support her while this whole job thing is going on.” She smiled. “And, with you being a Boone and all, I guess that helps, too...” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “When are you two leaving for the honeymoon?”
Annabeth was ramrod stiff in his arms, her lips pressed flat. He needed to get her out of here, quick, before she let Winnie Michaels have a piece of her mind. While he would pay money to see his Annabeth put Winnie in her place, he suspected his wife would regret it. She worked too hard to be a model citizen in their small community. And having a catfight with one of her student’s parents, however warranted, was not the sort of attention Annabeth needed right now. “Not for a while.” Annabeth sounded cool and calm. He was impressed as hell.
“Lola, you think we could have that breakfast to go?” he asked.
“No honeymoon?” Winnie asked. “Isn’t that bad luck? To not have a honeymoon?”
“We might not be going anywhere yet, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be a honeymoon.” Ryder winked at Lola, but he made sure everyone heard him. There were more than a few snickers.
“You best hurry with their breakfast, Carl,” Lola yelled toward the kitchen, still giggling. “Don’t want to keep these lovebirds waiting.” She might be a gossip, but she had a good heart. She must know what he was up to, helping Annabeth into her coat, chattering away—and preventing Winnie from getting a word in edgewise.
“I imagine your family’s tickled pink,” Carl said, as he handed a large brown paper bag to Ryder.
“They don’t think I deserve her.” Ryder nodded, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.
“Nope.” Carl waved his hand at him. “Consider it a little wedding present.”
“Wonder how Greg’s folks feel about it?” Winnie asked.
He drew in a deep breath. That was a question. A good question. He’d no interest in hurting Annabeth’s relationship with the Uptons...but he might have already done that by getting her pregnant.
Annabeth’s arm slid around his waist. “Judy and the Major love Ryder. He was the closest thing Greg had to a brother.”
“You and Greg were two peas in a pod,” Lola said with a nod.
“That’s nice, then, keeping it in the family.” Winnie smiled that mean, tight smile some women wear so well.
To his surprise, Annabeth laughed. “Oh, Winnie.”
He had to give it to her, she knew how to make lemonade out of the bitterest of lemons. Even now, with Winnie prodding the grief-filled places in Annabeth’s heart, she managed to laugh it off. What else could she do? He’d never been prouder.
He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You ready to go, Mrs. Boone?”
Her huge hazel eyes turned on him, so full of warmth he could feel it. “I’m ready, Mr. Boone.” Her smile grew. “And I’m starving.”
She was talking about food, he knew it. Other than the night in his truck, she hadn’t shown the slightest interest in him. But something about the look in her eyes and the husk in her voice sent his blood to boiling. He’d like nothing more than to take her home, feed her pancakes and spend the rest of the day—and maybe the night, too—in bed.
Chapter Seven
“What did you ever do to Winnie Michaels?” Ryder asked her as soon as they climbed into his truck.
She almost dropped the to-go cartons containing their breakfast. “What did I do?” She stared at him, ready to launch into all the things Winnie had done to her, when he started laughing. He knew about the teasing, the Annabeth Banana-breath. He’d been there.
“Teasing you.” He was grinning ear to ear.
She sighed, sitting back in the seat, staring at his profile. A man shouldn’t be that good-looking. His body was compact, lean and muscular—good for riding bulls. Her gaze drifted along his jean-encased thigh to his chest. She swallowed, remembering the feel of him a
ll too well. Her inspection continued upward, his neck, his angled jaw. Full lips. Long, dark, lashes. Dirty-blond hair, cropped short. Chiseled bone structure and piercing pale blue eyes...that were looking at her right now. Her cheeks grew hot.
“Winnie’s always been a...charmer,” he said with a shake of his head.
“I wish I had done something. Then I could try to make amends.” It was true. She didn’t have many memories of Winnie that weren’t “charming” in some way or the other. “How do people get that way?”
“What way?” He pulled the truck onto Main Street, waving a greeting as they passed two locals sitting on a bench in front of the old courthouse.
“Twisted inside.” She glanced at him. “Mean. She is. She’s just...mean.”
Ryder’s gaze settled on her before he started laughing again.
“What?” she asked. His laugh was contagious. “Why are you laughing?”
Ryder rolled to stop at the stop sign and looked at her. “Because she was, without throwing a punch, picking a fight. And all you do is say she’s mean?” He checked the street for traffic and headed to her house. “I can think of a long list of words to describe that woman. And mean is the mildest one of them.”
She was laughing now, too.
“You’re amazing, Annabeth,” he murmured, cutting off her laugh immediately.
She glanced at him, curious. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. It might sound stupid, but I’m proud of you.”
“You are?” she choked out.
“You didn’t take the bait, even when it was being shoved down your throat.” He glanced at her, looking a little uncomfortable. His next words were accompanied by a smile. “And... I like looking at you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t decide if you’re making fun of me or flattering me.”
“I was trying to give you a compliment.” He was smiling, but there was no trace of the usual teasing on his face.
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