“But I liked this cheese. You liked this cheese.”
“Did I?”
“You said you liked it,” he insisted.
“I’ve never eaten Umpqua cheese, honey. Ryder, my love, my everything. Can you let go of the phone now? Just relax your fingers and…There you go. That’s good, I got it now.”
“Five weeks ago. On a Thursday. You came home from work late, and I had dinner ready. The charcuterie board. You ate the cheese. Don’t you remember the cheese?”
I did not remember the cheese. I didn’t even remember the charcuterie board. “Was that the one where you paired everything with chocolate or with beer?”
“I paired it with tarts, Delaney.”
“Tarts,” I said. “That’s what I meant to say. I remember they were so…fruity?”
He squinted at me. “You don’t remember any of it do you?”
“You’ve put together so many wonderful dinners lately.”
“I told you I’d handle the food. The food is important.”
“Yep. And you’re doing a great job. But this,” I held up the phone. “Fighting with an innocent cheese factory? Don’t you think that’s being a little much? You know I’m going to be just as happy if we get married in a shotgun shack with nothing but saltine crackers and spray cheese.”
He gasped and placed his fingertips against his chest as if I’d just said the most offensive thing he’d ever heard.
“Saltines and spray cheese?” He said like it was, well, like it was saltines and spray cheese. “That’sthe kind of wedding you want? That’s what you think our love deserves? Spray cheese?”
“Well, not the cheap stuff. I mean I’d expect brand name.”
He leaned toward me, his face inches from mine and grinned. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m a little funny.”
“Give me back my phone.”
“No. You’re going to harass the poorcheese squeezersin bullpuck Oregon.” I stretched away from him on tip toe, which wasn’t going to do me much good because he was just that much taller than me and his long arms could out reach mine.
“Still think you’re funny. That’s a main stage act you got there, Delaney. Real Show Off material.”
“The cheese, Ryder. Think of the cheese!”
I was chortling now, and couldn’t seem to stop it.
Ryder had had enough, so he put that big body of his to use and charged forward, backing me into the wall, catching both my wrists in his hands.
I still had his phone, but it was now up above my head.
I could get out of this hold. Could get out of it half a dozen ways. Instead, I stilled.
But as the seconds piled up and ticked away, as our breathing settled down, as I got my laughter under control, something else happened.
Ryder slowly, slowly lowered himself toward me, erasing the space between us.
I shifted so that my stance was wider. He took the invitation for what it was and slotted his legs and hips into the space I made for him.
“Hey,” he said, and it was heat and sex, and I was straw under a magnifying glass, catching fire.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Hey.”
