Bound For You: Men in Blue, Book 6

by Jayne Rylon

  Damn, he was going to miss her. Them.

  When he patted the bed next to him, she squirmed so that Ben set her down then bounced onto the mattress beside him. Her exuberance didn’t last when she caught sight of his face, though.

  “Are you trying to figure out how to say goodbye?”

  And that did it.

  She’d managed to crush his heart with a single innocent question.

  Shari put her hand on his and squeezed, lending him the strength he needed to do this properly.

  “Yeah,” he croaked.

  “It’s okay.” Julie dangled from his neck in a choke-hold hug. “Uncle Ben told me how much you love us and that sometimes people have to move on. You’re still going to come to my birthday party next weekend, though, right?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He made sure she could tell how serious he was. “And just because I won’t live here anymore doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. Very much. You can call me whenever you want to talk, okay?”

  “Even if it’s the middle of the night when I have nightmares? You sing the best songs to help me go back to sleep.” Her eyes couldn’t possibly get any bigger.

  “Especially then.” He smooshed her in a bear hug when he couldn’t find the words to express himself well enough.

  She seemed to understand as best as an eight-year-old could. For now.

  Ryan grinned when she motioned for him to come closer and put her hand up to block her secret from the other adults in the room. But he couldn’t suppress a single snort when she glanced at Shari and then flashed him the world’s most unsubtle thumbs-up.

  He laid a giant smacking kiss on her cheek, then stood. It was now or never.

  She was a smart girl, their Julie. He swallowed hard. Would he still have any claim to her after this? Ben wouldn’t be cruel enough to take her away. Or worse, to let their bond fade into nothing as the days rolled by. Would he?

  With his heart simultaneously broken and hopeful, Ryan packed a duffle. Then he called his boss and told the guy he needed to cash in some of that vacation he was always being lectured to take.

  Shari held his hand as they strode out the door together. She never once complained, despite the fact that he nearly crushed her delicate fingers in his shaking grasp.

  His stride hitched once, when he caught sight of Julie peering down at them from her window, tears on her cheeks. Ben stood behind her, stoic. One hand rested on her shoulder as they watched Ryan abandon them.

  “Do you want to go back in?” Shari asked.

  “Yes. Fuck, yes. But I can’t.”

  Together, they blew Julie kisses. Then left.

  It was the hardest thing he’d ever done to watch their old house fade to nothing in the side mirror of Shari’s enormous pick-up. A thousand times more difficult than when he’d sacrificed himself to a sadistic madman in the slim hopes of reclaiming his sister alive. At least there’d been a purpose to that pain.

  This he could hardly bear.

  It didn’t have to be this way.

  Why was Ben such a fucking moron? Why hadn’t Ryan been enough?

  He needed a distraction, something familiar and soothing. “Do you mind stopping at the store so I can grab some ingredients for that dinner I’m going to make you?”

  6

  Shari sighed as she unlocked the gate, then pulled her beast of a truck inside before re-securing the entrance to the resort. Some of her habits were too ingrained to set aside. True, the risks she faced from run-of-the-mill crooks were nothing like those she had guarded against back in the days her superspy brother had incidentally made her a target for a whole host of professional baddies. Still, vigilance had become customary.

  She couldn’t suppress a groan as she climbed behind the wheel again.

  It had been a long damn day.

  “You okay? I could have driven, you know?” Ryan reached over and rubbed her thigh, loosening the knot that had formed there after the four-hour ride. It shocked her how…not weird things were between them after months of hesitation and false starts. Could it have been like this all along?

  Maybe she should have taken her friends’ advice and made a move on him months ago. His hand spanned her entire leg above her knee. Capable, deft fingers rubbed until she thought she might crash into the woods and kill them both. So she put her hand on his and knitted their fingers together.

  “I’m used to making the trip alone.” She shrugged one shoulder while the other hand stayed on the wheel, steering them through the forest toward the main cabin she lived in. Only recently had she begun to regret how far away from the nearest city—the one where all her friends lived—her mountain retreat was located.

  Call it what it was: a fortress compound. Or had been.

  These days she’d been working hard to lure folks looking for some quiet time out to her slice of rural heaven. All the landmines had even been deactivated lest they blow up a customer by accident. Bad for business, that. Still, it’d been eight months and she’d already gone through five managers. It was starting to look like she’d have to stay up here constantly if she wanted to make her resort a success.

  With Ryan in tow, that didn’t seem so terrible. She was pretty sure he’d keep her occupied after he got settled in. Mmmm. If she was lucky, anyway.

  “I’ve never liked that.”

  “Huh?” She’d lost the thread of their conversation as she drooled over mental movies of him making love to her on a blanket beneath the riot of color made by the canopy of changing leaves. Or surprising her with a quickie in the outdoor shower she used to keep the worst of her ranch dirt from migrating into her cabin.

  “You driving all this way by yourself. It’s not safe. Especially when you leave late and it’s dark. I bet at night you can’t see shit around here.” He frowned at her.

  “You can’t blame me for wanting to stay.” She smiled. “It’s not like I have a lot of friends up here and…” Why not be honest? “…you were right before. It gets lonely sometimes.”

  “I get that.” Was he commiserating with her, or referring to himself?

  Either way, she supposed, they knew something about seclusion. Maybe it was harder to feel isolation pressing in on you even when there were plenty of people around. Ones you were in love with, even. Because she never doubted for a second that Ryan was devoted to Ben, even if the idiot didn’t realize it…or care.

  Now it was her who could relate, although she didn’t dare admit it.

  “Well, you can put your feet up and rest while I make you dinner.” Ryan seemed to perk up at the idea. “Take a quick nap if you want. It’s only fair.”

  “I’ll keep you company. It’s the least I can do when you’re slaving over a hot stove.”

  “I don’t mind.” Something in the way he said it—maybe it was how his voice got slower and deeper, sexier—made her sure there was more to it than that. Like it was a pleasure, not a chore. True, he had often told her how much he treasured his career as a chef at a five-star restaurant in the city, a place she’d never even dreamed about eating at before.

  Still, she couldn’t help but feel like there was more to it than that.

  Her stomach growled softly while she thought of the cooler bursting with supplies, which they’d stashed in the bed of the truck. A handful of items she hadn’t even recognized. The best food was like that. If you trusted the chef, you just shut up and ate it, knowing it would be delicious.

  She had a feeling this was going to be one of those nights. Meals, she corrected herself. She’d definitely been thinking about dinner. Not anything after. Sure. She shook her head softly. What happened after they ate, well…that was going to be simple.

  Bedtime. In separate rooms. All the way on opposite ends of the upstairs hallway, if he decided to stay in the main house. Otherwise, she’d keep the long yard between them.

  No exploring allowed. Not when his emotions had gone through the wringer once today.

  Shari didn’t want to dredge up ugl
y shit. It had taken almost two counties for him to quit gripping the door handle as if he needed that connection to keep from flinging himself out of the moving vehicle and running the hundred miles back to Ben’s place.

  It took a lot of talent to endure a four-hour car ride without discussing the heavy issues sitting right there on the gray fabric seat between them, but they’d displayed excellent avoidance skills by talking about anything and everything else during their voyage.

  She’d like to keep things light a little longer. Just for tonight.

  Ryan would have to deal with the fallout in the coming days. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she hoped she could usher him through his mourning period.

  Pulling into her usual spot, she hopped from the truck, sending a cloud of dust up from beneath her boots. Home sweet home.

  When she reached into the bed to grab the cooler, Ryan stopped her with gentle pressure on her forearm. It was a light touch, but she felt it all the way to her core. “May I?”

  It wasn’t really a question, though. The urgency in his aquamarine eyes told her it was more significant than a matter of politeness to him. Manners be damned, this was part of who he was. No lover of his would want for anything if he could help it. After prolonged periods of necessary independence, there was something seductive and indulgent about letting someone else do the heavy lifting for her.

  Even if it made her a lazy bitch.

  “I feel weird. You’ve already got your duffle.” She shifted from boot to boot in the yard. “I’m used to taking care of myself, Ryan.”

  “When I’m around, you don’t have to. I would like to do it for you. Please?” He increased the pressure of his palm on her skin slightly, encouraging her to relent. So she did.

  The smile he rewarded her with was nearly enough to obliterate her misgivings.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” He scanned the mountains as he ambled toward her house, seeming right at home. The open flannel shirt he’d thrown over his white, sleeveless tee had her fingers twitching, wishing she could grab fistfuls and yank him straight upstairs. “This place really is awesome, Shari. It’s so quiet and peaceful. Gorgeous.”

  He shot a look at her as he said that last part.

  It was enough to threaten to melt her panties, even though she didn’t think he meant it like she imagined. Damn, did he have to have the most provocative eyes? Or such a hot body? Wasn’t it enough that he was kind and so very easy to hang around with?

  “My parents picked well. I just inherited the place.”

  “And kept it running all those years your brother was away saving the planet.” They got to the door and Shari scanned her palm on the reader. “Do you like it here? Or is it a habit?”

  “Good question.” She sighed as she shepherded him inside and gestured to the kitchen, letting him know he should make himself at home. “I’ve always felt like this is my place. Lately, though…”

  “The Men in Blue and their wives have sucked you in too, huh?” Ryan chuckled. “They’re a pretty great group of friends.”

  Shari nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t realize how much I was missing until they took me in, you know?”

  “Yep.” Ryan paused his unpacking, leaning one hip against the refrigerator with his hands full of some kind of alien vegetable that certainly did not grow in her garden. “For me it was the same. I spent so long trying to keep a roof over our heads—Ellie and me, I mean. I worked three jobs sometimes, so I didn’t exactly have a social life. Then…well, you know. Now she’s with Lucas. I’m happy she’s happy. Proud that she’s gone on after what happened. But I guess I got used to spending time with Ben and Julie, having someone to share simple stuff with and also someone to split the load with. It’s going to be tough—”

  He spun and plopped the groceries in the fridge, hiding behind the stainless steel.

  That wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

  Shari approached slowly, certain he must still have triggers of his own even if they weren’t as profound as his sister’s. She wrapped her arms around his waist, letting her palms explore the flat expanse of his abs. “Hey. You’re going to be all right.”

  “Eventually.” He grunted, pulled free, then asked, “Would it be all right if I take a quick shower before I start this? I can’t cook properly if I’m not clean.”

  Although she figured soap wasn’t going to get rid of some of the stains he imagined on himself, she understood. To him, it was an art form. Frankly, she was dying to see him perform for her. Sure, he’d cooked at other Men in Blue functions, but…this was different. More intimate somehow.

  Intended solely for her to ingest, it would be a gift straight from his hands to her stomach, and she loved the thought of having some part of him inside her.

  “Of course not, go ahead.” She lifted her chin toward the stairs. “First door on the left.”

  He bowed his head a bit and said smoothly, “Thank you.”

  The entire time the water ran, she couldn’t stop imagining the way his chest had glistened with droplets that refracted the sunshine after his swim during one of their recent barbecues at Lucas and Ellie’s house. Damn, she was going to miss the summer.

  Winters up here were frigid. Though the tundra-esque landscape could be pretty at times, it had nothing on those afternoons and the masculine displays the Men in Blue unintentionally put on for their ladies.

  Fortunately, when Ryan emerged in a cloud of steam and trotted down the stairs wearing only a thin pair of gray cotton shorts and a well-worn T-shirt advertising one of the pizza places he used to deliver for, she stored up plenty of memories to keep her toasty inside. No matter how low the temperatures dropped in the coming months.

  Even better, she was starting to wonder if having him around might heat things up permanently.

  Bring on global warming.

  7

  Shari thought Ryan looked good enough to eat with his blond hair slicked back and damp. Classic features, tan skin, brilliant eyes, and long limbs made him seem like he’d escaped from some fairytale princedom and wandered into her home. Remembering how he’d kissed her earlier, another blast of warmth flared within her.

  It hadn’t been her imagination. All this time, it was there. True chemistry.

  Today they’d finally acknowledged it.

  The possibilities seemed simultaneously astounding and terrifying.

  She wondered how he’d feel if she ruined her appetite by devouring him instead of whatever culinary delights he planned to present her with. As she watched, he slipped a crisp black apron over his head and cinched it around his trim waist. It did magnificent things for his ass.

  Whew, it was going to be harder than she thought to keep her hands to herself. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Some hands-on-self action might be required to fall asleep after spending an entire evening alone with him. She’d resorted to pleasing herself with her trusty vibrator more than once after their group outings. Solo, the lust he steeped her in was even more potent.

  Shari forced herself to recall the disastrous parting they’d endured earlier and consider how raw Ryan must be after that informal breakup. “Are you sure you want to go to all this trouble? If you’d rather find something on Netflix and chill out…”

  “Did you just proposition me?” A wicked grin lit up his face, making his eyes seem to sparkle like the aquamarine and diamond necklace in Izzy’s jewelry collection.

  “What? No!” She waved her hands in front of her, trying to think back. Had her desires spilled out of her mouth instead of what she thought she’d offered—comfort, relaxation?

  “I don’t think that means what you think it means, Shar.” He winked. Laughing, he turned back to the stove and fiddled with some knobs she never used. Though he mumbled, she caught most of what he said with his back to her. “Too bad. I might have taken you up on it. I’m like a damn pressure cooker over here. Sooner or later…kerpow.”

  She tore her gaze off his spectacularly presented butt and w
hipped her phone out of the pocket of her jeans while he continued to ramble. Her fingers were a flurry of motion as she did a quick Internet search. Apparently some genius had decided “Netflix and chill” was secret code for a friends-to-lovers booty call.

  Also known as knocking boots.

  Also known as bumping uglies.

  Also known as stuffing the turkey.

  Also known as hiding the salami.

  Also known as tickling the pickle.

  Also known as making whoopee.

  Also known as rumpy pumpy.

  Or mostly known as plain old-fashioned fucking.

  And she’d come right out and asked him to do it. With her. As if it was no bigger deal than taking a stroll to the lake after dinner.

  “What the ever-loving hell is wrong with young people today?” She slapped her phone onto the table as she sank into a chair. Would she ever get things right with him?

  “Like you’re that old.” Ryan glanced over his shoulder in time to catch her horrified expression and bugging eyes. He chuckled. “C’mon, Granny, don’t freak out. I knew that’s not what you meant.”

  “I’m an idiot. I mean, I would, you know. Like to do that sometime. But not tonight. I realize this is horrible timing. ” Her head sank onto her crossed arms, hiding her smoldering face from him. Until she remembered what he’d said… Too bad, I might have taken you up on it.

  “It is?” He didn’t look at her when he asked, softer, “Why?”

  “Because you had your heart broken today, for starters.” Behind his back, she rolled her eyes. Was he going to pretend she couldn’t tell?

  “You know I can see your reflection in this vent hood, right?” He shook his head.

  Refer to her earlier idiot status. “No. Obviously I’m not used to having people around.”

  That much was true.

  “Hang on. Am I invading your turf? I can take you up on one of those spare guest houses if you want.” For the first time, he paused as he gathered his ingredients and laid everything out just so. His hand hovered over the pull for a drawer where he had been about to start rummaging around for who knew what, she figured.