Unstoppable (Page 40)

God, that man is sexy.

I drift back inside and walk through to the music room, still lost in thoughts of Ryland; his dark eyes glittering with intensity in the dark night. I’m breathless from the thought of him, my body clenching of its own accord. My breasts aching, my thighs tight. Damp.

Ready for him.

I sink down on one of the couches and reach for the guitar. I have a dozen melodies spinning in my mind, sweet and low and seductive. I strum a couple of chords, but I feel too restless to write today, so I just play, not caring about being precise or perfect, just relishing the cascade of notes that falls from my instrument, and the fragments of lyrics that dance from my tongue.

Ryland. It’s all for him.

I can’t believe I dismissed him as a bad boy charmer for so long. The real Ryland is so much more. Wounded, searching, full of forgiveness and a strength I can’t even imagine.

You forgot sexy as hell.

I can feel a grin stretching my cheeks wide, and I laugh out loud. I feel like a schoolgirl with a crush again, this lightness, this joy. Except, I never felt this before, not even with Connor. With him, it was intense and thrilling, but never so sweet, not even on our best days.

This is different. I’m different now.

My cell buzzes with a new text. Ryland.

Want to go out tonight?

I feel my stomach flip.

Like a date? I text back.

Yes. A real live date. Pick you up at six?

I’ll be here.

I hug my phone to my chest, giddy with anticipation.

I can’t wait to see what tonight brings.

22.

RYLAND

“Ray Jay’s got a cru-ush!”

My sister teases, sing-song, as I bend over the open hood of Tegan’s car. It’s late afternoon, and I’ve been working like a dog all day, but I’m determined to get it finished before tonight.

“Ray Jay’s in loooove.” Brit keeps up her chant, swinging her boots against the cabinet. She’s been perched up there for an hour now, and she’s barely paused for breath.

“Will you cut that out?” I growl, wiping sweat from my forehead. “Don’t you have better things to do? Like go torment that new husband of yours.”

Brit grins. “He sees me plenty. But you, dear brother, have been away so long. I’m making up for lost time.”

“And what, you’re reliving sixth grade?” I shoot back.

She just laughs. “Look at you, all wound up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before. Big date planned?”

“Maybe.” I glare, but I can’t stay mad at her for long. Not when I feel like a kid again myself, wired with anticipation for seeing Tegan tonight. All day, I keep drifting off into thoughts of her: heady, X-rated memories of last night—thoughts that I definitely don’t want my baby sister around to see.

Tegan’s eyes falling shut…her lips parting in a gasp…her body rising against you…

“Where are you taking her? What are you doing?” Brit breaks through my daze. “It better be good, after you got her in so much trouble last time.”

“First off, I didn’t get her in trouble,” I correct her, shutting the hood and going around to test the engine. I reach across through the driver’s side and turn the key in the ignition, listening to the hum. Better. “And second, it’s none of your business. Can’t I keep anything to myself these days?”

Brit snorts with laughter. “Says the King of Mystery himself. C’mon, give me something. You could use some advice, if you’re as rusty at this as I think you are.”

I finally take a break and grab a bottle of water. “I’m taking her to dinner.”

Brit rolls her eyes. “And?”

“And what?”

“And, what’s the big surprise? The romantic gesture, the sweeping her off her feet.”

I stare at the girl who refused to listen to any fairy tales when we were kids, because they were so unrealistic and boring. “Tegan’s not into that kind of thing.”

Brit gives me a look. “Every girl is into that kind of thing,” she corrects me gently. “I’m not talking about flowers and jewelry and all that cliched crap, I mean something that shows her that she matters. When I first started dating Hunter, he set up this whole dinner for us on the roof at the bar.” Her face softens just thinking about it, melting into a nostalgic smile. “He arranged everything, the lights, the music… It was like something out of a movie.”

“I’m picking her up in a couple of hours.” I feel a lurch of panic. “I don’t have time to pull off something like that.”

Brit sighs. “You don’t have to copy him, just do something that will be a memory she’ll treasure. Show you’ve put more thought into it than just driving her to Jimmy’s for pizza and beer.”

There goes my plan for the night.

She sees my face change. “Seriously? That’s what you were planning?”

“I’m not good at this stuff,” I protest weakly. Damn. “I never had to bother before. Girls just…”

“Threw themselves, swooning, at your feet,” Brit finishes for me, laughing.

I shrug, uncomfortable. The truth is, my years on the road have passed pretty much alone. The girls I met in my world weren’t the kind to want big romantic gestures or sweetheart dates. They were jaded and battle-worn like me, their heart locked away, with one eye watching the door for a better prospect. I kept my distance, had a couple of flings, but I didn’t want anything to last. It would just be one more thing to walk away from when I finally repaid my debt and left that life behind for good.