Ryder

by Ali Parker

  He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm before he could pull away. "Don't go," she said, forgetting her promise to herself not to fall for him again. All she could think about was spending the night with him, in this bed, wrapped around each other.

  His smile was sweet, but he shook his head. "We have to leave early tomorrow for your doctor's appointment. You should get some rest."

  "I don't want to rest," she said with a pout. "I want you."

  * * *

  He'd been longing to hear those words for days, and now that she'd said them, he wished she hadn't. He'd watched her at dinner, watched her drink three glasses of wine, watched her nearly tumble out of her chair when she'd tried to stand up. Now wasn't the time to give in to temptation, no matter how great.

  With a deep exhale, he sat down on the bed beside her. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he felt her warm breath on his neck. It sent a shiver down his spine, making what he had to say all that much harder.

  "Janna, I don't think it's a good idea. Not right now."

  "Don't you want me?"

  Fuck yes, I want you. More than you'll ever know. He wanted to ravage her, to feel her around him as he drove them both to climax. But not like this, not when she was wasted on wine and pain killers.

  "You know how I feel about you," he said after a moment. "But I don't want to take advantage of your inebriated condition. A gentleman wouldn't do that."

  "But you said that you aren't always a gentleman," she reminded him, and he wanted to groan.

  "You're right, but tonight, I am. So go to sleep." With those words, he stood and made his way to the door.

  "Goodnight, Janna," he said sweetly as he opened the door.

  "Goodnight, Masterson," she said with a grumble that made him smile. He was getting to her. Maybe by the end of her recovery, she'd agree to be his girlfriend again. Maybe even more.

  * * *

  On the way home from the doctor the next day, Janna was all smiles, her grumpiness from the evening before forgotten. The doctor's visit had went better than expected.

  "The fracture was minuscule to begin with," the doctor had said, "and you've clearly been taking your recovery seriously and not straining or putting weight on it. So here's your reward. We'll remove the air cast boot, and for the next two weeks we'll keep it wrapped up tight, and then you should be back to a full range of motion, more or less. You'll probably still feel weak for a little while, but it shouldn't take long to reach a full recovery."

  "It's remarkable," he continued. "Usually patients ignore my advice and end up keeping the cast on for longer than predicted. But your adherence to my recommendations, coupled with your own body's resilience, means that you'll be back to normal in no time. The same goes for your wrist. The sling isn't necessary. You may want to continue wearing your wrist brace if you have any pain, but otherwise, your wrist seems well healed."

  Janna caught Brice's big smile behind the doctor's back. He obviously considered himself responsible for her progress. And heck, he was more than a little responsible. If he hadn't taken such good care of her, she'd have been pushing herself too hard, not getting enough rest, and still wearing that damned cast. But instead, she thought, glancing down at her leg which now rested comfortably in its wrap, I'll be well in no time.

  The thought wasn't as cheerful as she'd expected it to be. Being well meant returning to the co-op, and giving up the beautiful dream the beach house had been.

  I've still got a couple of weeks. More than enough time to convince Brice to ignore my earlier diatribe about boundaries.

  She risked a glance over at him as he drove the SUV back towards the coast. He caught her looking and smiled.

  "Seems like you're on your way to recovery. Looks like I won't be carrying you around anymore."

  Janna frowned. Damn. Maybe I should have ignored the doctor's instructions and prolonged my convalescence if it meant being carried around in Brice Masterson's strong arms. "That's right," she said, "talk about a weight off your shoulders." She decided on humor to mask her disappointment.

  "More like a weight off my mind. I'm glad you're healing well."

  "Still feeling guilty?" Looks like the conversation was going to be serious whether she wanted it to be or not.

  Brice frowned. "Yes. But what I feel most of all is regret."

  "Regret?" she echoed, interested in where this was going.

  "Regret at losing you. I worried so much about you running away that I ended up causing the thing I wanted to avoid."

  Janna sat quietly, unsure of how to respond. Should she let him know how she felt about him, how much she wanted to give him a second chance?

  Not yet, an inner voice suggested. Let's take a page from his own book.

  As they pulled into the driveway and parked, Janna smiled, her plan for seduction in place. She started to climb out of the SUV, but Brice hurried around and scooped her up into his arms. "One more time," he said as he walked them towards the house. "Just for old time's sake."

  He set her down on the threshold and retrieved her crutches. "You are now free to move about the cabin, my dear," he said with a smile.

  "Hmm...what to do with my newfound freedom? I know, how's about I make lunch?"

  "Are you sure you're up to it?"

  "Yep, I'm sure. Why don't you take a load off?" she said, gently pushing him towards the sitting room on their right. "I'll head into the kitchen and get things started."

  Chapter 23

  Brice was reading the paper in the sitting room, his mind absorbed in a story about new logging legislation. He heard a knock at the front door and wondered who it could be. Maybe it's Chase, he thought, although he hadn't remembered Janna mentioning needing anything from campus.

  He pulled the door open and almost slammed it again just as quickly. There she stood, on his front porch, a contrite smile on her beautiful features.

  "Hello, Brice."

  Her husky voice tossed his mind back five years into the past, into the heartbreak he hadn't thought he'd ever recover from.

  "Evetta. What are you doing here?"

  "Can I come in?"

  He debated refusing her, considered closing the door in her face and not finding out what she wanted. But his manners were too ingrained, and so he opened the door wider, stepping aside to allow her to enter.

  "I remember this place," she said as she wandered into the sitting room and took a seat on the sofa. "Lots of good memories here."

  Brice agreed, but it wasn't memories of her he was thinking of. "What do you want?"

  Her smile cracked, and she looked away. That wasn't the Evetta he knew. She never backed down from a confrontation.

  "I came to apologize," she said finally.

  "Apologize. Now. Why?"

  Evetta sighed, and when she met his gaze again, her eyes were full of unshed tears. "Brice, I was really rotten to you years ago, and I'm sorry. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I didn't realize it at the time. I was so wrapped up in my own troubles that I threw away what we had."

  "What we had?" he asked, unable to restrain the scathing tone in his voice. "What you and I had? Or you and the accountant?"

  Evetta frowned, and a tear escaped down her cheek. "That was a mistake. A bigger mistake than you know. Please, let me explain."

  Brice's brow furrowed. He wasn't interested in explanations. He just wanted Evetta out of here. Still, as the tears began pouring down his cheeks, he couldn't be the harsh bastard that he wanted to be. Not even to the woman who'd used him, then torn his heart in two.

  "Explain," he said as she covered her face to wipe her eyes. He couldn't see the satisfied smile that spread across her features at his words.

  * * *

  Janna popped the casserole into the oven and set the timer. She then grabbed her crutches and moved into the hallway, intending to inform Brice of their lunch plans. But as she moved down the hall, she heard voices. Brice and a female voice. She slowed, unsure what she might be int
errupting. Their conversation floated down the hall, and she stopped to listen.

  "Brice, five years ago I was in a bad place. I met Jason, 'the accountant' as you call him, at a party three months before I met you. He was fun at first, and it didn't take me long to fall for him. That was before I realized what a monster he was. He started scheming, talking about how easy it would be for a girl like me to seduce a rich man like you, to take your money and laugh."

  "I wouldn't agree at first. 'I'm not that kind of girl,' I insisted, but Jason kept at me, manipulating me, playing on my emotions, until he had me convinced that it would only strengthen our relationship. So I agreed."

  "That night we met, Jason had it all planned. He pointed you out to me, then told me to take you into the bathroom and...well...you know."

  Janna blushed, hearing her words. She now knew who the voice belonged to, and it chilled her blood. Evetta. She was here.

  "I felt horrible that first time, and I swore that I wouldn't do it again. But that night Jason beat me. He told me if I wouldn't follow through with his plan, he'd ruin my face so no man would want me again. So I continued on, I seduced you, I agreed to marry you, all for your money. All for him."

  "If this is true," Brice interrupted, "why didn't you tell me?"

  "I couldn't. I was too ashamed." The emotion in her voice sounded real. Janna couldn't help feeling sorry for the woman as she continued. "And the more we got involved, the more I wanted to leave Jason, the more he tightened his hold. It was his idea to fake the pregnancy. I didn't want to. I was upset, you see. I regretted everything I'd done to you, once I realized what a good man you were. And...and I didn't want to see you again because I knew then that I'd fallen hopelessly in love with you."

  "But you did it anyway," Brice responded, his voice heavy, and Janna wondered suddenly what effect this confession was having on him. Her heart constricted in her chest, fear flowing through her veins.

  "I know." Evetta's voice was small, repentant. "But that's why I left, why I ran back to Jason. I knew you'd never forgive me for manipulating you. I left so that I wouldn't hurt you any worse than I already had."

  "What about the phone call? You didn't sound sorry then."

  Evetta let out a sob, and Janna leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling like an ass for listening in on such a private conversation. "He was standing right next to me then, so I knew I had to put on a show, had to prove to him that you meant nothing to me, or he'd punish me. So I...I said all those...horrible things...but I didn't mean them!"

  "Calm down," Brice said, but Evetta kept sobbing. Janna couldn't stand lurking anymore. The woman was torn apart. And she might be getting to him, an inner voice warned. He'd loved her then; it wasn't so crazy to think that he's still got feelings for her. Maybe they were meant to be, and she was the interloper, the crazy woman who lurked in hallways, listening in on private conversations.

  Janna shook her head and made her way down the hall, at last arriving at the sitting room.

  The most beautiful woman she'd ever seen sat on the couch, tears streaming down her high cheeks, past pink pillow lips, all framed by a cloud of sleek black tresses. Evetta was supermodel gorgeous, and Brice stood beside her, offering her his monogrammed handkerchief.

  The sight ripped through Janna. They were perfect together. Her darker beauty beside his golden radiance. Suddenly she felt like a trespasser.

  Brice looked up and caught sight of her. "Janna," he said, his tone unreadable.

  The beauty on the couch looked up and gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry...I...I didn't know you had a guest."

  "I apologize for interrupting." Janna began stepping back into the hall.

  "No," Brice said, halting her movement. "Janna, this is Evetta. Evetta, Janna."

  "Hi." Janna didn't know what else to say. What do you say to the ex that broke your ex's heart? "Uh, I wanted to let you know lunch will be done in a half hour. I'll leave you alone."

  "No need," Brice said, turning his gaze back to the woman on the couch. "Evetta was just leaving."

  Evetta stood up, confusion evident on her face. "Yes," she said, gathering herself quickly. "I'm sorry...Janna, was it? Are you Brice's girlfriend?"

  "No," Janna replied quickly, with too much force. She caught Brice's frown but turned her attention back to Evetta.

  "I see," the woman said, and for a second Janna thought she saw a smile flit across her face before she covered it with the handkerchief.

  "Evetta," Brice said, taking the woman's arm and leading her out the door and onto the porch. Janna started back down the hall towards the kitchen, confused. Worried. Alone.

  * * *

  Brice stood on the porch, looking down on the woman he'd once thought would be the mother of his child. Then he had felt elated. Now he just felt empty. He glanced at the driveway and noticed a familiar red sports car. The pieces clicked into place.

  "Brice," Evetta said, her hand clutching his arm. "I just wanted you to know, I'm sorry."

  "Why now?" he couldn't resist asking.

  Evetta cast her eyes demurely to the ground. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, haven't stopped caring about you. I recently heard that your parents had died and I...I thought about how hard that must have been, especially if you didn't have anyone to share your grief with. And I thought that maybe...maybe we could make it work again."

  "I'm sorry, Evetta," he said, "but--"

  "Wait," she said, putting a hand up to his mouth to stop his words, her dark eyes sparkling. "Even if you don't...want me, there's something I need to do." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box. "I should never have kept this in the first place." She passed the box to him.

  He knew what it was before he opened it, and the corner of his mouth came up when he lifted the lid and stared at the five-carat diamond engagement ring. The final deed to convince him of her sincerity. Was she sincere? Could he trust her?

  "I saw your car last week at a motel down the way. Why did you wait until now to come here?"

  Brice thought he caught a glimpse of surprise in her eyes, but she quickly covered it up. "I...I was getting my courage up. It wasn't easy today, coming here to face you again."

  Brice nodded. At least that had to be true.

  "Brice." Her eyes were wide, tears welling up again. "Give me another chance. I know I hurt you before, but I could never do that again. I never wanted to do that in the first place. Please."

  "Evetta," he began, but she held her hand up to his mouth again, silencing him.

  "Don't answer now. You have a guest. I'll come back, soon, and we can talk about this then. Just...think about it, okay?" With that, she turned and headed down the steps and to her car. Brice stood on the porch, watching her drive away, his thoughts as stormy as the sea behind him.

  * * *

  Janna wandered back into the kitchen, her movements slow, possessing a dream-like quality. She couldn't stop her thoughts from roiling as she pulled out dishes for serving. So that's the infamous Evetta. A frown marred her usually pleasant features. How's a girl supposed to compete with her? The woman was gorgeous, slim, with a perfect face and fantastic hair. Janna unconsciously patted her own unruly locks, almost dropping a crutch in the process.

  Brice had been quiet, almost overly calm, and his behavior worried her. Could he want her back? Janna couldn't forget the couple's history, the fact that Brice had been so close to marrying the woman, to spending the rest of his life with her. Seeing Evetta again had to have affected him. How could he not still want her? Especially when she clearly wanted him back.

  Maybe he doesn't want you anymore. Remember last night? You practically threw yourself at him, and he refused.

  Janna sniffed, fighting back sudden tears. I should have told him how I felt this morning, she thought, but her inner voice didn't stop expressing its own doubts. Would it have mattered?

  The timer rang, interrupting her stream of consciousness. She pulled out the casserole, setting it on the counter to cool off. After s
he set the table, it was time to let Brice know lunch was ready. Janna headed down the hallway, coming to a stop outside of the office as she heard Brice's voice.

  He was speaking to someone on the phone, and his voice was still calm, still overly reserved. "Tony, I want a full background check on Evetta, ASAP. Make it your top priority." He hung up, his eyes lifting and making contact with her own.

  "Lunch is ready," she said lightly, trying for a small smile.

  Brice nodded and stood, then followed her down the hall and into the dining room. "Something smells good." He took his seat across from her.

  "Thanks." She disguised her discomfort by taking a big bite of casserole.

  Most of the meal was spent in silence. Brice seemed a million miles away; his attention focused on some inner world that Janna doubted she was a part of. The quiet stretched uncomfortably, and then she couldn't stand it anymore.

  "I'm feeling much better, you know," she said, noticing that Brice had returned his attention to the here and now. "And...well, I think I can start doing more things on my own."

  Brice swallowed a bite of casserole and grinned. "Well, you certainly did well with lunch."

  Janna smiled politely. "Exactly. So I was thinking...maybe it's time I returned to the co-op and resumed my real life."

  "Your real life?" His tone was flat.

  "Yeah, you know, taking care of myself, getting back on campus..." She trailed off, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to interpret the expression on his face.

  "I don't think that's a good idea," he said. "You'll still be on crutches for at least two more weeks."

  "I know, but my mobility is much better, now that I'm not in a sling or dealing with that awkward boot. And since I don't have to teach, I won't be doing much walking anyway. If I head home now, I might be able to finish the first draft of my dissertation this term."