Now free to watch him openly, my own mouth damn near watered as his pouty lips curled around the rim. Something about James oozed sex, and I squirmed again at the provocative way he lapped the sugar and syrup off the edge of the glass with his tongue.
“Wow,” he commented, pulling my eyes away from hismouth. “Raleigh was right: that’s a damn good drink.” He held the glass out to me. “Want some?”
The thought of my lips touching somethinghislips had been on sent a jolt straight to my crotch. “I’m okay.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, shrugging and taking another sip. “So. When can you start?”
“When do you need me?”
“Tomorrow night.”
I nodded. “Uniform?”
He waved off the question, downing the rest of the drink. “Wear whatever you want, so long as you don’t come in looking homeless.” James collected the dishes and headed toward the kitchen while I wiped down the counter. “And Ryder?”
My hand froze. “Yes?”
“I’d recommend finding some jeans thataren’ta size too small.” He very openly ran his eyes down to my lap, then with a smirk disappeared through the same door he’d entered.
If I hadn’t been hard as a rock before, watching James lick the sugar off that rim had made it so. Still, he’d hired me even after noticing, so he must’ve been impressed by what he saw. Grinning, I adjusted myself before finishing up.
Well. So much for not being attracted to the boss.
Chapter 9
If there wasone word people would use to describe Ryder Clark, it would be “suave.” Or perhaps, “casual.” Funny. Attractive. Charming. Humble. A word theywouldn’tuse was “nervous.” I’d never been accused of that particular affliction. Except, it seemed, when it came to Hannah.
I stood on the front porch of a cozy little house in the suburbs of Salem. It was one of those neighborhoods where every residence looked identical, the same eggshell-colored paneling, the same manicured lawns. I shivered as the wind whipped around me, the bottle of scotch from Raleigh in one hand, my other shoved in my pocket.
Hannah wasn’t home. Erin and her husband agreed to meet with me under the condition that Hannahwouldn’tbe there, just in case things got tense. I hadn’t knocked yet, and I considered turning around and leaving.
No, I couldn’t run away. Not this time.
I rang the doorbell as another gust sliced into me. My stomach flipped as footsteps approached the door. I steeled myself to see Erin, but when the wooden door swung open, Iwas eye-to-eye with her husband. He looked like the type of guy you’d expect to find in the suburbs. He wasn’t ripped by any means, but fit enough. Dressed down for the night in a simple crew neck sweater and jeans, he pushed a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, clearly as nervous as I was. Both of us stood there, waiting for the other to break the silence. Finally, he folded.
“You must be Ryder.”
“Guilty as charged.”
He held out his hand, and I took it. “I’m Ben. Please, come in. It’s fucking freezing out here.”
I took a tentative step into the house. The outside mirrored the inside—a typical suburban home. I stepped into a beige living room. Off to the side, a welcoming heat emanated from the lit fireplace. An old nineties sitcom played softly on the mounted TV. My mouth watered at the smell of a roast dinner wafting out from the kitchen.
Ben held open a door leading to a small coat closet. “Can I take your jacket?”
“Oh yeah, sure.” I wiggled out of the leather, but the bottle of scotch bounced back and forth in my arms, so I handed that over too. “Here.”
“Oh my God,” Ben said, eyeing the label. “I think I’m in love with you.”
I laughed.
“You want a glass?”
“No, that’s for you.”
“Suit yourself. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable. I’ll go get Erin. Babe! He brought alcohol! We’re keeping him!”
Ben disappeared into the kitchen, and I made my way over to the set of expensive couches. I perched on the edge of one, feeling more out of place than I had in a long time. I stared at the TV, not really taking anything in but knowing the episode byheart. As I watched the characters fight to get the couch up the stairs, my leg started to bounce.
