by Joya Ryan
Whitney wasn’t out to ruin anything, or play coy. She just wouldn’t give in to Ryder in every way he wanted. Like being platonic. It was either complete distance or being so close she could taste him. No in-between.
Penny held up her margarita glass. “Here’s to going after what you want,” she said.
“And not being shy about it,” Lily added, holding up her pitcher.
Whitney felt a flash of true sisterhood, and it both hurt and filled that empty space in her chest where Kacey’s memory was tucked away. She looked at the two women who’d made her feel welcome and not so alone, and she clinked her glass with theirs.
“I’ll drink to that.”
Chapter Ten
“Shit!” Ryder growled. “This is wrong. Hell it’s…a half inch too short.” He looked at the perfectly cut piece of granite countertop that was now resting on the long handmade cabinet in the main lobby of the Davenport Hall. A cabinet that had taken him two weeks to make, stain, and install. And of all things to go wrong, the damn countertop was too short.
Huck stood behind him and eyed the fuck all mess he was looking at. In construction, a half inch was a big deal, and even Ryder couldn’t make a chunk of granite grow. Which meant…
“We’re going to have to redo the cabinet,” Huck said.
“Yep.” Ryder blew out a breath. He’d measured and re-measured the damn thing ten times. He never made an error like this. “Who was in charge of the supply shipment and granite dealer?”
Huck glanced over his shoulder, his white spackled hands tucked beneath his arms. “Jerry was.”
Ryder wasn’t into playing the blame game. But he’d built this damn box from scratch and knew—knew—the measurements. Granted, he’d been distracted lately by Whitney. Could he really have made this error himself? Shit, he didn’t know. And he wasn’t about to blame someone else on a hunch. It didn’t matter, because the end result was the same. He’d have to redo the whole damn thing. And fast.
“What if we order a small piece of granite, cut it to size, and cover that small spot?” Huck said.
Ryder shook his head. “Davenport wants all clean lines. He would lose his shit if he saw two pieces of stone instead of a single piece.”
“How about we take apart the cabinet and cut it down to size?”
Ryder nodded. It would work, even if the solution wasn’t as simple as Huck made it out to be. The way Ryder had constructed the cabinet meant a fair amount of trouble to take it apart, sand down the half inch, and put it back together. He could do it, it would just take time—something he was running out of.
“Hello!” a booming voice rang out. If his day couldn’t get any better, Milton Davenport had to show up himself just then. “Hi, boys! Just came to see how things are progressing.” Davenport’s words cut short when he looked at the countertop.
“It’s coming along,” Ryder said.
“Looks like a mistake,” Davenport said, pointing a pudgy finger at the counter.
“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” Ryder assured.
“There’s a lot of money at stake here, and you’re messing up with granite? Do you know how expensive that is?”
“Yes, I do.” Ryder was trying to stay calm. “I’ll take care of it. The cabinet and countertop will be solid and one piece like you wanted.”
Davenport shook his head. “What other mistakes are being made?” he asked with a hiss to his tone.
The crew was dispersing. Huck stood his ground, ready to support his friend, but Ryder gave him a subtle signal to go on with the rest of the crew. As much as he’d like to have his friend there for backup, Davenport would respond better if they were alone.
“I can assure you, everything is going smoothly.”
Davenport eyed the counter, then Ryder. “Let’s hope so. For your sake. You get your business by referral, and I’m not going to sugarcoat what I think of your work. Diamond or not.”
“I stand by my work and my crew. The Hall will be finished the way you wanted, and on time.”
Davenport lifted his chin and eyed Ryder. “All within budget?”
“Of course,” Ryder said with the best smile he could muster. Because if it took him every waking hour he had for the next week, he’d fix the damn cabinet himself. There was no way in hell he’d leave this job without a stellar seal of pride and workmanship.
“Good,” Davenport said and turned to walk away.
Ryder knew right then that he was staring down the barrel of a long few days.
The week passed in a blur. After having girl time with Penny and Lily, Whitney thought more about Kacey and how much she missed her. How things could have been different if she’d survived. Maybe that was a sign she was settling too comfortably in Diamond. Because the point of her moving from place to place was to experience life and live for adventure. Not to get caught up in thoughts of her sister, and all the sadness and guilt that came with them.
Yet the thought of splitting didn’t spark excitement the way it should.
But she would leave. She had to.
She wanted to see Ryder at least once more before she left. From the gossip she’d picked up, not to mention Penny flat out telling her, Ryder was working long hours over at that old building on Main Street. There was some kind of event coming up the next weekend, and between Penny running over bags of food to the crew, and everyone talking about this extravaganza like it was the second coming of Cinderella’s ball, Whitney knew it was a big deal for the town.
The hell of it was, she was missing Ryder. She’d been working a lot as well, to keep herself busy, and it was adding up to a nice chunk of change. So nice that it was looking like she wouldn’t need the whole summer to reach her money goal. And that was shitty since the thought of moving on should invigorate her, but it was making her pause. Mostly to think of a pair of gray eyes that gave her goose bumps.
The truth was, she could have taken lunch or dinner to Ryder on one of the nights Penny offered the job to her, but she hadn’t. Because she didn’t trust herself that she would be able to turn down another invitation from Ryder for a date. Or worse, face the disappointment if he didn’t offer again.
It was stupid and silly, and she shouldn’t even be thinking in these circles. But there was something about him that went deeper than people saw. He wasn’t just thoughtful and determined. There was a heart bursting with affection for the people he loved, but he held that part of himself under such tight control that it almost never came out. But for some reason, he let that part out when he was in private with Whitney.
Every time she was with him he delivered an experience, but he’d iced the cake with the heavy machinery. Not to mention, she’d never gone skinny-dipping like she had with him.
That was so far beyond awesome it should have its own name. Like Ryder-dipping.
He got her hackles up, all while making her wet with a single glare. She didn’t want to ruin the time they had with good manners. She wanted more of his wild, impulsive side. But he’d been clear those encounters were numbered. Hell, if he’d had his way, even the skinny-dipping would never have happened.
She wiped down the bar just as Lily came through the door with Alex and sat down.
“You okay all alone in here?” she asked.
Whitney poured her a Diet Coke and tossed in a cherry—Lily’s favorite, she’d learned over these past weeks.
“I’m good,” Whitney replied, but Lily didn’t seem to be buying it. Before that questioning blond brow was followed by an actual question, Whitney looked at the cute kid climbing up on the stool next to his mom. “You must be Alex,” Whitney said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Whitney’s heart about melted. He was missing his two front teeth, and the little lisp in his yes was most adorable thing she’d ever heard.
“Quite a gentleman,” she said. “Can I get you something to drink? A chocolate milk, maybe?”
When his eyes shot wide and he bounced in his chair, Whitney realized she might have made a mista
ke. She glanced at Lily.
“If it’s okay with your mom, that is.”
Lily just smiled and nodded. “Of course.”
“Yes!” Alex’s little fist shot in the air like he’d won the gold in the summer Olympics.
Whitney set to making the milk and squeezing the chocolate into the glass, and Alex’s eyes got even wider.
“You enjoying your break?” Whitney asked.
“Yes, I’m going to go with Uncle Colt and Aunt Jenna on the circuit soon!”
“Wow, that sounds fun.”
A small groan left Lily, and she stifled it with a sip of soda. She was obviously trying really hard to let Alex go, but two weeks to herself would be good.
“How are you?” Whitney asked quietly to Lily when Alex’s was distracted by the cartoons playing on the TV hanging in the opposite corner of the bar. “You getting excited for Alex’s trip?”
“Don’t remind me,” Lily said. “I still have time to get used to this idea. Not much. But some.”
Whitney nodded. Lily was an amazing mother. She was raising a young man and doing it while playing both parents. Whitney had never come out and asked about Alex’s dad, but from a few hints dropped here and there she’d learned that he’d been some city guy that left as soon as Lily found out she was pregnant.
“It’s pretty dead in here. You can take off early if you want,” Penny said, coming from the kitchen to stand by Whitney. She gave Lily a half hug across the counter.
“Hey, Aunt Penny!” Alex said, his eyes back on Whitney, now pouring milk and stirring his cup.
“Hey, kiddo. I see Whitney is fixing you up right.”
Alex took the glass of milk. Now that Whitney looked at it, it looked more black than light brown. Maybe she’d used too much chocolate. But Alex sighed, a milk mustache over his top lip, and said, “Best. Milk. Ever.”
She smiled, the compliment making her feel beyond wanted.
“You have to work here forever,” Alex said.
That made her eyebrows rise and her throat close. Between Alex’s toothless smile, and now Penny and Lily beaming at her, she didn’t have the heart to remind all of them that forever wasn’t in the cards for her.
“I’ll come see you every day,” Alex said, and took another drink.
“I’d like that,” Whitney said, leaving out the “for as long as I’m here” part.
“Looks like you have another man crushing on you,” Penny said with a nudge. Alex was just smiling at her and enjoying his drink.
Whitney was about to say that she could stay a little longer when the bell on the front door rang, and in walked Ryder Diamond in all his handsome glory. Only instead of sporting the usual dusty T-shirt and tool belt, he looked freshly showered. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a white button-down, and a Stetson that made him look like the sexiest cowboy she’d ever seen.
Excitement overtook her. She walked around the counter and straight for him, then stopped dead in her tracks. What the hell was she doing? She was acting like he’d come to see her. Like she had a right to just waltz on over and hug him—maybe kiss him—in front everyone, like he was her boyfriend or something.
Except he wasn’t.
And she wasn’t anything to him other than a cordial, platonic date. Right? That’s what he wanted. And she just wanted sex, not romance. So there could be no public displays of affection, because that didn’t fit into either of their end games. Just like working at the BBQ long-term, or making friends with anyone, wasn’t smart.
His eyes remained on her and turned hard when he registered her stiff stature. He took a step toward her, then was cut off by the melon-hating woman Whitney had met her second night on the job. What was her name? Clara. That was it. Clara.
She heard the woman talk about the Davenport Hall, and while Ryder’s mouth moved in response, his eyes stayed on Whitney. But she couldn’t stick around. Not after what she’d almost done. Not with all these weird emotions flying through her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to Penny, taking her up on her offer to clock out a bit early. She passed the bar and headed in the opposite direction of Ryder and out the back. Funny how this whole thing had started with Ryder wanting space, and now it was her running in the other direction.
That stubborn woman had just turned her back on him and taken off.
Ryder’s temper was boiling beneath the surface. He’d seen the look in Whitney’s eyes when she’d headed for him. He was shocked as hell that she’d appeared ready to jump into his arms—and even more shocked that he wanted her to, even if they were in the middle of the BBQ. Then that hope was stomped out when she looked like her feet had been glued to the floor, and Clara swooped in chatting about the event again.
He was only hearing every other word, because he was too busy watching where Whitney had just left. Out the back.
“…all the paint will be dry?” Clara asked. Ryder only heard the last part of her question.
“Yes, the painters are heading in tomorrow, and it all should be done for the weekend event.” It was coming up in less than a week. Come Saturday night, all his crew’s hard work would be on display, and one of the town’s most treasured buildings would be reopened.
“Excellent!” Clara said. “I’m just so happy you’re finished. Now you have time for more sociable encounters.”
She looked him over like a prize, one she’d had her sights on, and Ryder tried to find his good manners to get out of this conversation. Because yes, the last week had been a bear finishing that building, but he was finally done. He had an early meeting with Davenport the next day. Otherwise, all that was left to do was monitor the final touches. That was why tonight he’d come straight to the place, and woman, he’d been dying to see.
And she’d just run off.
He didn’t want to talk about the event. Didn’t want to think about the Hall. For months his life had revolved around it. Hell, his life revolved around the town on a regular basis. Tonight he just wanted Whitney. Wanted to be alone with her. Talk to her. Forget who he was in public and have a private moment between the two of them.
“Why don’t you join me for dinner and we can discuss the weekend?” Clara said.
Ryder’s eyes snapped to her. “I already have plans.”
He should have accompanied that with an apology, but he wasn’t sorry. He wanted to see Whitney, and he wouldn’t apologize or explain.
He let Clara pout and tossed a wave to his sister. Penny looked confused, but she waved back.
He marched out the door and to his truck in record time. Barreling toward the lodge, he realized quickly he didn’t know what room Whitney was in, but he’d start with the bar where he’d first met her.
The main entrance was empty, just like the entire lounge and bar area. Even the counter of the bar, near the billiards room, had a “Return in an hour” sign up. Dead. The entire place was dead. But through the corridor, he heard the faint sound of one pool ball hitting another and a side pocket shot sinking.
Adrenaline raced through him, but he reached for his coolest composure and entered the poolroom. There, like his blessed dreams, was Whitney, bending over and lining up her next shot.
Those shorts of hers were his favorite thing on the planet, and he took a long moment to appreciate then.
“Damn it,” she muttered, when she missed her shot.
“You know what I was thinking the first night I saw you in here?” he asked.
She turned to face him with a little jump.
“Do you have some sneak-up quota you have to fill every day or something?”
“Answer my question,” he asserted. He was not in a friendly mood. This was his show. He’d gone to the BBQ to see her, and he’d be damned if she twisted this game of theirs to her favor.
“Let’s see, the night you met me… Pretty sure you were thinking I was someone else.”
He walked toward her until he reached the pool table and stood before her. “I was actually thinking of what this�
��—he spun her around, bent her over the pool table, and ran his fingers along the back of her knee—“tasted like.” He knelt quickly to trace his tongue up along that soft skin and felt her shudder, and then he rose and whispered in her ear, “Just as I thought. Sweet.”
She turned to face him, and he grabbed the edge of the pool table on either side of her hips, caging her in.
“What are you doing here, Ryder?” she asked softly. Something in her eyes was pleading. Like she was half scared, half desperate for his answer.
“I came to see you.”
The edge of her lips tugged upward, like those five words were all she needed.
“You’ve been working hard, I hear,” she said.
“So have you.”
She nodded and looked over his face in a way no other woman ever had. Like she was studying him. Maybe even doing some of that learning she’d mentioned a time or two. Whatever it was, he felt seen. Like she could grasp the real him.
“See, I finally got a night off and came to call on this sexy, bright woman, and you know what she did?” he asked, leaning in a little so his face was in line with hers.
She swayed in between his straightened arms, but he wasn’t letting go of that table. She gave an innocent look, but Ryder knew she was playing with him. So he moved a bit closer, until his chin was a millimeter from hers.
“What did she do?” she whispered.
“She ran off on me.”
“The nerve,” she chastised, in her mocking way. The same tone that kicked his pulse into high gear. But he kept it simmering and went on with this little conversation.
“That’s what I thought,” he agreed. “Which made me think of how I’d retaliate against her when I finally caught her. You see, this woman likes being chased.”
“You sure?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I even happen to know that every now and again, she likes being caught.”
“Interesting,” Whitney said, playing along.
“Unless she really was running away because she can’t stand the sight of me,” he amended.
She laughed like he’d just told her the world was flat. “The sight of you is not the problem, big guy. My guess is she thoroughly enjoys the sight of you.” She glanced down, something she rarely did, but he was picking up on the notion that she had more to say. So he waited a moment and hoped she’d give voice to whatever silent thoughts she had.
