Yeah.Him.
Ryder Freaking Vaughn.
Again.
His sun-streaked hair looked effortlessly tousled, like wind and trouble had followed him in. But whatreallygot me were his eyes – sky blue with a glint of mischief.
I swallowed hard as those eyes locked on mine like he saw way more than he should. Time stood still, and I almost forgot to breathe.
But then, he smoothly crouched down and picked up the fallen bottle. He gave it a quick once-over before standing and holding it out my way.
My pulse raced as I snatched it from his hand. "Thanks."
His mouth twitched like he was holding back a laugh. "You're welcome."
He had a nice mouth, with a hint of laugh lines around the corners. It was distracting in the worst possible way, so naturally my mouth got ahead of my brain. "What are you doing here?"
Yeah, that was me. Subtle as usual.
He grinned. "Fudge."
I shook my head. "Sorry, what?"
"Peanut butter."
I squinted up at him. "Wait…you're here for peanut butter? Or fudge?" The question had barely left my lips when I belatedly noticed that he was holding a brick of fudge wrapped in clear plastic. The fudge was dark with pumpkin-colored swirls, peanut butter, obviously. "Oh. Right." I cleared my throat. "Never mind."
He held out the fudge between us. "You want some?"
"You meannow? In the store?" I was nearly too rattled to think. "Not if you haven't paid for it."
He laughed. "Trust me, if I'm going down, it won't be for fudge."
"I didn't say you'dstealit." My composure was clearly on a coffee break. "I just mean…I wouldn't want to eat it before you paid."
He didn't miss a beat. "But you're okay with after?"
Was I?And just like that, I pictured us strolling together along Main Street – sharing secrets, fudge, and God knows what else.What the heck was wrong with me?
Thoroughly scrambled, I blurted out, "I don't want your fudge."
He cocked an eyebrow. "So, whatdoyou want?"
Boy, if that wasn't a dangerous question.If he weren't connected to Chicago, I had a million ways I might've answered. Some of them were borderline indecent.
But it wasn't my fault.He was flirting with me.
Wasn't he?
As the silence held, I suddenly realized that I hadn't answered his question.What did I want?
If he and I weretrulyflirting, I might've said something sassy, like,Wouldn't you like to know?
But this was Ryder Vaughn.
He was all kinds of trouble, especially for me.
And besides, I was on a larger mission – one that involved someone who could really use a break.
