Ryker’s lips twitch, like he’s pleased with my response, which reveals what his will be before he even utters the words. “Only degenerates use gin.”
“Filthy gin joints,” I return, and while I love that exchange, I can’t linger there, so I narrow my eyes at him. “This is unexpected. What are you doing here?”
That does not win me favor with my long-lost friend. The boyish charm he was sporting morphs into agitation, clawing its way to rage.
Chad rests his arm on the back of my chair, lightly scratching my shoulder. “Yes. What are you doing here?”
Simmer the hell down, Chad.
Ryker rubs the neatly trimmed scruff on his jaw, his eyes burning holes through Chad’s hand before rising to my face. “I’m here to take her home.”
And here we go.
“That won’t be necessary,” Chad replies with a death wish. “I’ve got her tonight.”
He’s got me tonight?A surge of indignation rises in my chest before I remember that all I was aiming for was for him toget me offtonight. So, yeah, I’ll let that slide. None of that matters because I’m hardly involved in this conversation.
Ryker holds up two fingers, shoots his champagne flute in a single swill, and leans forward. “That’s not going to work for me. I’ve got herforever, so we have plans. Far from here. Far from you. Take your goddamn hand off what’s mine.”
The waitress appears out of nowhere, and in a classic Ryker Noire move, he flashes a suave grin, his eyes creasing and dimpledimpling, as he tosses her a wad of cash, and she thanks him profusely.
“By home, does he mean North Dakota?” Chad can’t seem to catch up, though he wisely removes his arm from behind me.
Ryker fields that as he stands, reaching his hand out to me. “Geography isn’t important. Her home is with me.”
That wallops me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I’ve missed him. So much. Not that I allow myself to think about it. And, yes, he’s being difficult. Rude to my date. Demanding. But that’s Ryker. In fact, he’s strangely controlled right now, which I find a bit more intimidating.
He’s usually easier to read. Hotheaded. Passionate. Sweet, in a domineering, heart-on-his-sleeve, ready-to-off-anyone-who-looks-cross-eyed-at-his-people manner. Like a homicidal teddy bear.
Oddly endearing.
That thought has my mother’s sage advice slamming into me.“The things you find most endearing about a potential partner when you first meet them will often be the very traits that annoy you down the road.”
She said a lot of other profound things, but that’s one that stuck. I miss her even more now that I’m a mom. She died hiking thirteen years ago, falling off a steep ledge on a path she’d traveled countless times. The tragic losses of her and my dad still sting, but at least she was doing what she loved. While they’d been deliriously happy together, she viewed the world practically, so I suppose that advice was her way of telling me the honeymoon doesn’t last forever.
Ryker and I have been platonic for nearly twenty years, so that probably doesn’t apply here.
Something about him is different tonight though. Even so, he was right. In so many ways, he is my home. But he can’t stay, and I have to.
Still, I take his hand because it’s obvious the only way this doesn’t turn into a Wild West duel is if I go with him.
He kicks his chin toward my half-filled champagne flute with a lopsided grin. “Go ahead and finish it.”
I happily chug it without argument, but guilt swarms me, so I set the empty glass down and turn to Chad. “I’m sorry about this.”
Ryker scoffs as we step away, and he draws me into his side. “You’re sorry about walking out on him, huh?”
So, that’s how this is going to go. Great.
When we make it back onto the street and are past the crowd, I lean into him and keep my voice low. “What the hell are you thinking, tracking me down here? In the middle of town? Do you have any idea how reckless this is? You’ve compromised this whole placement for me.”
He keeps me tucked into his side, our hands threaded, but he doesn’t spare me a glance. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not staying.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Ryker—”
