Ryan's Renovation (The McKade Brothers #3)

by Marin Thomas

  “Mark?”

  “Lisa and Antonio’s little boy.”

  A fleeting smile—painful in its brevity. “He’s a cute kid.”

  “I have a question.” Anna held her breath. Ryan wouldn’t be the first person to request she mind her own business. She had a habit of poking her big Polish nose in people’s affairs—with good intentions, of course. But not everyone appreciated the fine art of meddling.

  “Shoot.” He dropped her hand and shoved his fingers into his jean pockets.

  “You said your ex-wife had a miscarriage. Do you have other children?”

  They stopped at the iron gate in front of her brownstone apartment. “Nice place,” he complimented, as if he’d never heard her question.

  “Thanks.” Anna was proud of the row house built by Germans in the twentieth century. The warm brown-brick facade sported an elegant bow front and crisp white trim. An extra-wide sidewalk, no garages, no off-street parking and a no-garbage-cans-out-front rule made her block a tiny utopia in a densely populated area.

  He shifted his focus from her front door to her face. “No, there aren’t any other children. Although I’d always hoped to be a father.”

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with your wife.” The sentiment sounded hollow. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t smother the tiny flicker of gladness that Ryan’s marriage had failed. Otherwise, she’d never have met him. She’d known him a short while, but already he’d snuck past her defenses.

  “Someone’s watching us,” he muttered.

  A silhouette hovered behind the curtain across the front window. “Blair’s a regular watchdog.” She fumbled with the gate latch and Ryan’s hand covered hers.

  “Aren’t you forgetting…?” he reminded her in a hoarse whisper.

  Chapter Six

  No way was Ryan walking off without collecting his victory kiss from Anna. Her promise was the one thing that had kept him from bolting out of Mimi’s Pizzeria. The entire evening had been an emotional roller-coaster ride. He wanted to forget everything but Anna and him. And the kiss she’d promised.

  The tiny flecks of amethyst in her shimmering blue eyes—wide, innocent eyes—pledged a haven for battered hearts and bruised souls. The temptation to hand himself over to her for safekeeping jarred Ryan.

  They hardly knew each other, yet he’d connected with Anna on a level he’d never experienced with any other person—even his ex-wife. Without speaking a word, he sensed Anna understood his thoughts and feelings—as if their souls had met in a prior life light-years away from the here and now.

  Anna the enigma. On the outside happy and cheerful. On the inside—heartbreakingly lonely. What was her secret from the world?

  Does it matter? It’s just a kiss.

  Because she was special, he refused to hurt her. Refused to believe there was more between them than—Shut up and kiss her.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth and he savored the hot rush of anticipation that seized his loins. Her tongue licked her lower lip, leaving a glistening trail across the plump flesh. Then she purred—a barely audible sigh of need.

  Full and soft and giving were the words that came to mind when he settled his mouth over hers. One touch and he yearned for more than her mouth. He wanted all of her. Against him. In him. Around him. Tangling his fingers in her long hair, he titled her head. Perfect. He thrust his tongue inside and tasted.

  Sweet. So sweet. He couldn’t get enough.

  The kiss spiraled into a desperate urgency. If not for the full moon spotlighting them, Ryan would have been tempted to collect more than a kiss from Anna. He had a hunch she would do nothing to stop him. That hunch might as well have been a cold bucket of water over his head.

  He broke off the kiss and tucked her head against his shoulder. He didn’t dare glance into her eyes—pools of blue quicksand capable of sucking him under. Anna’s lips nudged his throat, and he shivered from the sensation.

  “Cold?” She clasped his forearms, then slowly slid her fingers up his flesh, edging under his T-shirt sleeve.

  “Wow.” His fingers dug into her shoulders as he forced space between them. He gentled his grip when she winced, and cursed himself for allowing the moment to get out of hand. Shoot, he’d wanted out of hand until her fingers had grazed his puckered flesh. “You’re an excellent promise keeper, Ms. Nowakowski.” He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek—any excuse to touch her.

  “Hmm.” She tapped a long fingernail against her chin, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Shall we negotiate another promise for next week’s game?”

  “Do I have to sink the winning shot for the team?”

  “Of course.” Anna’s soft breath caressed his cheek.

  Oh, man. Could he keep it together for a second kiss? “Are you always this sassy?”

  “It’s the outfit.” Her mouth inched closer…closer…

  Saved by the porch light!

  “Darn.” Anna scowled at the shadow still present in the window. “Would you care to come inside?”

  Yes, his mind shouted; he was convinced his loneliness would find solace within the walls of Anna’s home. But at what price? He’d lost his soul to 9/11. He couldn’t afford to give away the one thing keeping him alive—his heart.

  Big blue eyes begged him to risk everything and follow her beyond the gate. He yearned to see her apartment—the color of the walls, the furniture, the decorations, even the food in the refrigerator. But not tonight. Maybe not ever. She deserved better than a man whose scars cut deep below the skin’s surface. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, then did an about-face and walked away, hoping…fearing she’d call out to him.

  Nothing. Cold, bitter silence escorted him to the corner. At the intersection, he paused, resisting the temptation to glance over his shoulder. Was she rooted to the sidewalk, watching? The light changed. He cut across the street and veered right toward the M subway line, which would transport him back to his apartment—no longer the refuge it had once been.

  As the bright headlight of the train drew near, Ryan wondered if Anna would agree to an affair. Light, flirtatious, fun—an Anna-type fling. The whistle sounded, the blast clearing the stupid idea out of his head. What made him believe he’d find the courage to climb naked into bed with a woman? Besides, Anna deserved better than a fling. Better than a man with one-sided intentions—his side.

  “JONES, GET IN HERE,” Bobby Parnell hollered from the hallway outside his office.

  “Boss sounds ticked,” Joe teased. “What happened?”

  “Heck if I know.” Ryan hadn’t spoken to Parnell since Monday—four days ago—when the boss had congratulated him on winning the basketball game.

  “If he fires you, can I have the rest of your sandwich?” Eryk grinned.

  Ryan shoved the remainder of his lunch across the table, then left the break room.

  “Shut the door,” Parnell instructed after Ryan entered the office. “Sit.”

  A dog command. Ryan clenched his jaw to keep from objecting and reclined in the chair facing the boss’s cluttered desk—an almost-empty jumbo-size bottle of antacid tablets, diet-cola cans, sticky notes hanging off the edges and three different newspapers opened to the sports page spread across the top.

  “Normally, I don’t poke my nose into my employees’ private affairs.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Anna usually takes care of that.” The smile vanished. “Since this concerns Anna…” Parnell paused, as if he expected Ryan to fill in the blank. “Mind if I ask what’s going on between you two?”

  Yeah, I do mind. “Nothing.” That is, if Ryan had his way. After mulling over the idea of a fling with Anna, he’d decided it was in their—okay, his—best interest to forget the kiss they’d shared. He’d intended to talk to her on Monday, but when he’d arrived at the station, he’d learned Anna would be out of the office most of the week, attending a software seminar for a new computer program the company planned to implement. She was expected to return later this afternoon.

/>   “Then the kiss you two shared last Friday meant nothing?”

  Ryan hadn’t figured Anna a kiss-and-tell gal. “How did you hear about that?”

  “Anna’s very highly thought of in her neighborhood, Jones. She does a lot of nice things for people, and in return folks keep an eye on her.”

  “Did her roommate tattle on us?” Ryan asked.

  “Nope. Three neighbors.”

  Three well-meaning Peeping Toms had witnessed their kiss?

  “They’d appreciate you stating your intentions toward Anna.”

  “My intentions aren’t anybody’s business but my own,” Ryan protested. He’d never answered to anyone, not even his grandfather—at least, about women.

  “You’d better treat her with respect.” Parnell squinted. “If you don’t, you’ll deal with me. Understand?”

  “The neighborhood watch has nothing to worry about. Kissing Anna was a mistake I don’t intend to repeat.” He popped out of the chair, faced the door, then froze.

  Pale blue eyes round as saucers blinked from the doorway. Anna’s shattered expression sliced through Ryan. How long had she been standing there?

  “If you two need to talk…” Parnell made a move to leave but Anna held up a hand.

  “I believe Ryan had the last word.” She spun on her sensible low-heeled shoes and retreated from the office.

  Parnell’s words stopped Ryan at the door. “You’d better make things right between you and Anna, Jones.”

  With a nod of understanding, he left, his mind searching for a way to erase the hurt from Anna’s eyes. But how? He found her on the front stoop, arms hugging her middle as she stared into space.

  “Anna, I’m—”

  “Don’t,” she warned, facing him. The hurt had faded from her eyes, replaced by the steely glint of a well-seasoned warrior. Stoic. Dangerous. He suspected years in foster care had contributed to the self-protective instinct. Too bad the same skills hadn’t been ingrained in him from childhood. Maybe then he’d have escaped his divorce intact instead of in pieces.

  The door creaked open and Patrick announced, “We’re heading out in five minutes.”

  “I’ll catch up.” Ryan moved toward Anna but stopped when she backed up to the edge of the step. He didn’t want to risk her tumbling to the sidewalk. “Let me explain.”

  “What’s to explain? You regret kissing me.” She made an attempt to move past him but he blocked her.

  “I don’t regret our kiss.” He had to find the words to make her understand.

  “But you don’t intend to kiss me again?” she challenged.

  Frustrated, he shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m not ready to get serious with you. With anyone.” Serious meant intimate. Intimate meant emotionally messy. He didn’t want any messes. “It’s best if we forget about the kiss.”

  Was he crazy? “I can’t,” Anna argued. Why did she have to be attracted to such an obstinate, confusing man? Good grief. She’d honestly believed they’d exchanged more than slobber during their kiss. “We’re both adults, Ryan. I noticed—” she quirked an eyebrow “—your attraction to me.”

  “I’m not denying I’m attracted to you,” he admitted. “But my job here is temporary. I’ll be gone in seven weeks.”

  A corner of Anna’s heart tore. Seven weeks was a lifetime to a woman who’d already waited forever for a man as special as Ryan to happen along. “Do you have to leave?” She’d cold-call companies and bring in extra business. Bobby would be forced to keep Ryan on.

  “I think it’s best if I do.”

  “You’re acting as though I’m pushing for marriage.” She’d dreamed it. The night he’d kissed her after the basketball game, she’d curled up on the couch and had confessed to her roommate how Ryan had made her feel twittery inside. To herself she’d admitted she fantasized about marrying him. But fantasies were fantasies and real life was real life. After learning of his ex-wife’s miscarriage, Anna was certain his last few weeks on the job would be the only forever she’d have with him. “I thought we were friends.”

  The confusion in his eyes lent her hope. “What kind of friends?” he asked.

  “Coffee. Movie. Dinner.” Maybe more. Hopefully more.

  “Friends don’t kiss, right?” He was caving in.

  The garage door rose, saving her from answering.

  “Give me some time to think about it.” He hustled to the garage.

  At least he hadn’t said no. A moment later, the dump truck pulled away from the station. Her heart thumped when her eyes connected with Ryan’s through the windshield. His hangdog expression hinted that time was the last thing he desired from her.

  MAYBE SHE DIDN’T show up at the game because she does errands on Saturdays.

  She didn’t show because yesterday you complained you needed time.

  Tired of listening to the dueling voices in his head, Ryan parked his Lexus around the corner from Anna’s apartment and shut off the engine.

  The end of the first week in October had arrived. Cloudy and blustery—a typical fall day for New York City. Wind gusts mugged people dashing in and out of stores, whipping hair in faces and threatening to steal shopping bags. The gloomy weather matched his mood.

  Guilt. Ryan couldn’t recall the last time he’d suffered a bout of good old-fashioned remorse. He’d arrived at the YMCA gym this morning for the basketball game, anticipating Anna in her sexy cheerleading outfit. She’d been conspicuously absent.

  When she hadn’t made an appearance by halftime, the wives and girlfriends had pounced. They’d asked him Anna’s whereabouts—as if their one kiss had qualified them for couple status. Although he’d claimed ignorance regarding Anna’s location, their feminine glares had burned holes in his jersey the entire game—which they’d lost.

  He’d asked Anna for time. Not space. He’d never intended to keep her from her friends. After the game, he’d declined an invitation to join the team for lunch. Instead, he planned to pay Anna a visit and put an end to the strain between them. He’d convinced himself that nothing existed between them but a kiss and a fair amount of sexual attraction.

  When he’d begun working at Parnell Brothers she’d driven him nuts with her meddling, caring ways. But after a few weeks he’d grown accustomed to the smothering. In fact, he anticipated the extra attention she showered on him. This morning, when she hadn’t shown up at the game, he’d been forced to admit he missed her.

  Friends… How could he be just friends with Anastazia Nowakowski when he genuinely cared for her and was sexually attracted to her? Combine care with sexual attraction and the direction the relationship was headed was straight to bed—the one place he dared not go with her.

  No way would he allow another woman to tear him up the way his ex-wife had. He didn’t believe Anna capable of intentionally hurting him, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, put his heart on the line a second time. Which left them one option: friends.

  With that thought in mind, he exited the car and set the alarm. When he came around the corner, he glanced ahead to her brownstone. He’d taken three steps when the apartment door opened. And a man stepped out?

  Caught by surprise, Ryan froze, his feet cemented to the sidewalk. He blinked. Once. Twice. The guy wasn’t a mirage. Dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt, he struggled with his tie. Anna followed him outside and tied the knot. Smiling, she brushed her hands over his shoulders as if dusting fine hairs or lint off the shirt. The jerk kissed her cheek. Anna called after him and the guy waved a hand over his head as he cut across the street and disappeared around the corner.

  By the time Ryan returned his attention to the brownstone, Anna had disappeared inside. He rubbed his chest, wondering at the stiff sensation beneath his ribs. The tightness hardened into a burning lump. He’d been empty inside for so long that the burst of jealousy caught him off guard. When Anna retreated, she went all the way—to another man!

  What a fool to believe he was the reason she’d stayed away from the basketball ga
me this morning. How had he allowed Anna to slip beneath his defenses?

  Friends, remember?

  He hurried to the apartment, taking the steps two at a time. Then he rang the bell, pressing his finger against the black button longer than necessary. The door swung open.

  Anna…She wore a faded New York Giants football jersey three sizes too big and a pair of ratty jeans with holes in the knees. Pink socks peeked out from under the frayed hem of the denim. Her hair was in a messy pile on her head and held in place with a clip. She wore no makeup, lip gloss or dangling earrings, so that her big nose jumped off her face.

  She’d never looked more beautiful.

  Forcing his gaze from her face, he demanded, “Who was that?”

  “Who’s who?” She poked her head around his shoulder and glanced up the block.

  “The guy whose tie you fixed.”

  “You mean Blair?”

  The name sounded familiar, but Ryan couldn’t remember where he’d heard it before. “Is he your lover or just a friend?”

  Her full lips curved upward, lighting her blue eyes. “Blair is my roommate.”

  “Roommate?” Now he recalled where he’d hear that name—from the other guys at work. But he’d assumed Blair was a girl’s name.

  “Blair and I have shared this apartment for three years.”

  Three years and just roommates. Right. They must have crossed the line at one time or another. “So, you’re not involved with him?”

  Her sunny smile slid off her face. “No. Not that it’s any of your business, friend.”

  Ouch. “Have you slept with him in the past?” he persisted.

  “Not in the past and not in the future.” One eyebrow arched. “Blair prefers men.”

  Ryan struggled to digest the news that Anna’s roommate was gay. He wanted to believe her, but he’d seen the guy with his own eyes. Surfer-style blond hair, tall and broad shouldered—a male model or aspiring actor. The opposite of him. “You’re positive he’s…”