“Hey there, Trouble. What’s up?”
“Hi.” She clears her throat, and I lean forward. I don’t like the sound of her voice. “Hey, can I come out and talk with you about something?”
I frown at the wall of windows before me. “You can come here anytime. You know that. Is everything okay?”
“I’d rather just talk to you in person. I’m leaving Missoula now, so I’ll be there in an hour, if that works for you.”
“Works for me. Gideon and I are around. Just drive safe.”
“See you soon.”
The day is looking up. One hour gives me time to get my workout in, and then I’ll get to see Wills.
Chapter Five
Willow
I’m going to kill him.
What is he thinking?
He’s not. That’s what. I’m at my wit’s end with my teenager. I hope that Ryker will help me. He will. Ryker’s my person. He won’t turn me away. Hetoldme to come to him for help.
Honestly, I don’t usually hate the hour-long drive from my house in Missoula to the Triple Creek Ranch, but today it feels like it’s taking forever, even with the audiobook I have playing in the speakers. I don’t always listen to books, since it’s my whole job to narrate them, but today I thought a story might take me out of my head.
Right now, in this sexy Mafia romance that I’m listening to, the hero and heroine aregetting it on.Jason Clarke is narrating the male point of view, and I love his voice. He’s so growly, and the way he saysthat’s my girlmakes my toes curl.
Most people have an image of an actor or some celebrity in their head as the main character when they listen to books. For me, every single leading man is Ryker James.
Every single time. And it’s been that way foryears.
Because of this, listening to or reading the sexy parts is almost torture.
It used to be safe because I hardly saw Ry in person for years. He’s always been so busy with hockey, and once Aiden came into my life full-time, I’ve been busy with him, so although I spoke with Ryker all the time via texts and phone calls, I was rarely in the same room with him.
“Calm down, Wills,” I mutter to myself as I turn onto the ranch road off the highway. I’ve been saying that to myself for the past few weeks every time I’m around my best friend, and it’s not working.
I can’t seem to calm down when I’m around Ryker.
I park and start to climb the steps, but then I freeze in my tracks when the door opens and Ryker’s standing there, shirtless, wearing only black sweatpants and sweat.
For the love of chiseled muscle.
“Uh, bad time?” I ask him.
“No, I just finished a quick workout. Your timing is perfect.”
I haven’t seen him shirtless in a long time. Ogling Ryker when he’s in a T-shirt is hard enough. The muscles, the tattoos, the veins in his forearms ... they wake up every nerve ending in my body and make my ovaries do the jitterbug.
But shirtless? I’m going to need a defibrillator. Why do his abs look like they’re sculped from marble? And is that a tattoo over his ribs? When did he get that?
“Wills?” My eyes climb to his face, and he raises an eyebrow. “Wanna come inside? Gid’s in the kitchen. He’s leaving for the airport in a few minutes.”
“Oh, I’m glad I caught him before he goes.” I slide past him as he stands to the side, gesturing for me to walk through the door. The living room is ready for the new furniture, and it smells new in here, with the fresh paint and flooring. “I know I’ve been here through this whole process, but I still can’t believe how different it is in here.”
“Do you hate it?” he asks, and I can see that he’s worried.
“Are you kidding? It’s gorgeous. You live here now. It should beyourspace, Ry. It looks great.”
