Hot Finish (Fast Track #3)(7)
Author: Erin McCarthy

He wanted to kiss her. Badly.

But he knew the reaction that would get, and despite the optimism his dick was displaying at the moment, he knew it would be less than happy when Suzanne’s knee made contact with it.

“You’re not bitter, babe,” he said. “Just stubborn.” Ryder did put a finger on her waist, drawing it back and forth over the bottom edge of the sweater. “Now give me the papers.”

She didn’t move, didn’t knock his hand away. But she smiled, a slow, sassy upturn of her full lips. “Nice try, Jefferson.”

“I haven’t tried anything,” he murmured, wanting more than anything to peel off that sweater and lick her from head to toe.

“Go under my sweater and you’ll live to regret it. The papers aren’t even there anymore. I haven’t been walking around for the last hour and a half with a manila envelope up my shirt.”

“Who says I’d be looking for divorce papers under there?” He gave her a wicked grin.

“Yeah, but you have a follow-through problem, remember? And I’m not interested in anything else being left half done.”

Ryder froze. Now that was below the belt. He had never, never, ever, not once in all their years together left her unsatisfied.

Or any other woman for that matter.

Ryder took a step back. “I may leave loose ends, but you have tunnel vision. Lose the attitude, Suz, or you’re going to lose your wedding-planning business before you even start it.”

Her head tilted. “Screw you,” she said in a low, even voice that didn’t fool him at all.

One more word from him and she’d probably blow. Which didn’t stop him from opening his mouth. “I’d love to. You start it and I’ll finish it.”

Then Ryder turned and headed toward the door, figuring he could call Ty for a ride. Hell, he’d walk, but he needed to get out before Suzanne hit him. Too late. He jerked forward when a magazine hit him square in the back. He saw the smiling cover bride staring up at him as it smacked onto the hardwood floor of the foyer.

Ryder opened the door and turned and gave her a smirk, his ego smarting more than any bodily damage she could do with a bridal magazine, regardless of how hefty their advertising was. “This was fun. We should find out we’re still married more often.”

“Why, so every day can be a special new plunge into hell?”

Ouch. But he refused to let her see she’d nicked him. “Nobody I’d rather burn with than you, babe.”

With that, he left, plunging his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as he stomped down her front walk.

CHAPTER THREE

SUZANNE groaned out loud after Ryder left. God, that had been such a ridiculous and overdramatic thing to say to him. Plunging into hell. Geez. She hated losing control like that. She prided herself on her control and she’d had literally none since her doorbell had rang for the first time three hours earlier.

Glaring at the grease stain on her carpet, Suzanne wrapped her arms around her middle and fought the urge to kick the full garbage bag Ryder had left sitting there.

Her cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her purse on the table, praying it wasn’t Ryder or Nikki. She needed a breather and possibly a cocktail before she dealt with either of them. Fortunately, it was Imogen, her friend and Ty’s fiancée.

“Please tell me you want to meet for a drink in the next half an hour,” Suzanne said by way of greeting.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tonight,” Imogen said, her crisp voice apologetic. “I have exams to grade.”

Make them wait, was Suzanne’s feeling on it. She certainly remembered professors taking nine million years to grade her exams in college. “You’re really going to leave me to drink alone? Do you know how pathetic that is?”

“You don’t need a drink,” Imogen said. “You just need to vent. Ty told me you and Ryder had a bit of an altercation.”

“I guess you could call it that if you want to be polite. I like to think of it more as a rip-roaring fight.” Where she’d thrown a bridal magazine at his back, which she had to admit had been totally childish. But Ryder just pushed all her buttons, always had.

“What happened?”

Suzanne kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen, retrieving the envelope with the letter from the lawyer from the pantry where she had shoved it when Ryder wasn’t looking.

What happened?

Life as she knew it had just been knocked on its ass.

“Ryder gave me a letter from our lawyer. It says we’re still married.” Even saying the words created a lump in her throat.

“Excuse me? Are you saying you’re still legally married to Ryder?”

“Yep.” Suzanne rubbed her forehead. Tears were threatening to make an appearance again and she was going to halt those suckers in their tracks.

“Well, that’s something of a shock.”

And that was something of an understatement. “No shit.”

“But I assume this can be easily resolved. Is it just a matter of filing the correct papers again?”

“I don’t know. I need to call the lawyer tomorrow. Ryder said he would, but I seriously doubt he will. If he did what he said he was going to, then we would have been divorced all along like we were supposed to be.” Suzanne leaned over and dug around in her refrigerator. She was sure she had a tub of cookie dough in there somewhere and she was damn well going to eat it.

Ryder had always had a problem with finishing what he had started. Not in the bedroom—that had been a dig just to piss him off. It had been more that he always said with the best of intentions that he would cut the grass or plan her birthday party or get his license renewed, but then he never did and she was stuck dealing with it.

Annoying, yes, but not the only reason they had wound up divorced. That had just been the day in, day out reality, and it had worn her down. When she heaped that on top of the fact that Ryder had never intended to marry her in the first place, she’d felt like his assistant with sexual benefits, not the woman he loved. Add in that he had been content to remain childless while she had craved a family, and that their fighting had escalated to nonstop, and the split had been the inevitable outcome.

“But Ty said you and Ryder looked extremely tense. This doesn’t really sound like it warrants ruining your friendship with him.”

Almost knocking over the jar of pickles on the top shelf of the fridge, she rolled her eyes. Did she really have a quality friendship with her ex? That was questionable. It wasn’t like they went on nature hikes together and talked about their feelings. They didn’t talk about anything at all that mattered. Mostly they engaged in superficial sparring and made fun of each other’s dates.