Ryder’s words from that morning replayed over and over in my mind.
My life consisted of school, work, taking care of my family, and the minimal spare time remaining, I usually spent stressing about those other three things. A social life? What was that? Aside from the occasional quick lunch with Trevor or mandatory fun with my coworkers, I didn’t have one of those.
Yes, I knew I had a prickly personality ninety percent of the time. Life had fucked me without lube or prep more times than I could count. Of course, I’d built six-inch steel walls around my heart and head. Who wouldn’t? A therapist would probably help, but who had the money for one of those?
Not me.
It would take a damn saint to be willing to chisel through my bullshit, yet Ryder had done it, and that man was far from a saint. Ryder was, well, a man. Flawed and prone to mistakes, same as me. In my desperation, I’d let him climb a few of my walls and glimpse the mess on the other side.
And he hadn’t run away. Instead, he claimed to want more. And he’d fucked me like he’d meant those words. But he’d said the words after fucking me.
God, did he fuck me good.
And there I went, daydreaming about Ryder and his talented dick again.
My phone rang, dragging me away from my latest we’ll-have-to-try-that-later fantasy.
Diamond Auto Shopflashed across the screen. “Hello?” I said as I brought the phone to my ear.
“Good afternoon, this is Darla with Diamond Auto Shop. I’m looking for Alex Morgan.”
“I’m Alex.” I slowed to a stop near where I’d agreed to meet Ryder.
“Fantastic. Well, Mr. Morgan, your car repairs are complete, and it’s ready to be picked up at your convenience. We’re here until eight tonight and open at seven thirty tomorrow morning.”
“Wow, that was fast. Thank you.”
“You are very welcome, Mr. Morgan. We pride ourselves on fast and quality service.”
“And the bill?” I asked, though I knew what she’d say.
“Is taken care of.” Her cheery tone had me rolling my eyes.
“Of course it is,” I mumbled. “Um, could you tell me what the cost was?” If it were crazy expensive, I’d—what? What the hell would I do? I couldn’t pay Ryder back. At least not in a timely manner. Maybe he’d take a payment plan.
In blow jobs.
“No, I cannot,” she said with a tinkly giggle. “I have strict, written instructions not to let you know anything about the invoice amount. “In fact, someone wrote an exact script for me. Nice try, you stubborn, sexy man. Now go find Ryder and give him a kiss as a thank you.”
“Oh my God,” I said as my face heated to the equivalent of a tar road in the desert sun. I pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head. Thank God, no passersby could hear her side of this ridiculous conversation.
Darla giggled again. “Sounds like you got yourself a very sweet man there, Mr. Morgan.”
Her statement had my hand dropping to my side. “Yeah.” My throat dried up, leaving my voice a rough croak. “I’m pretty sure I do.”
“Have a good day, sir. We’ll see you when you pick up your vehicle.”
“Yeah… thank you.”
She disconnected the call, leaving me standing beneath a bare oak tree once again, thinking about the man who’d shaken my entire life and stirred up emotions I’d locked in a box, all in less than twenty-four hours.
It was a gorgeous day. Even as the sun dipped closer to the horizon, the bright ball heated the chilly air to a beautiful fifty degrees, much higher than the average for the year. I closed my eyes, allowing the warmth to kiss my face while I inhaled. Without Ryder, today would have been a mess of anxiety and stress. I’d have probably missed my study group and freaked out over how to pay for my car repairs. He’d eliminated that obstacle for me, and as much as I should probably feel guilty over it, all I felt was grateful.
I couldn’t wait to show him how grateful later. And, shit, now I was soaking up the sunshine with a growing erection.
A sharp wolf whistle cut through the air, making me jump. I opened my eyes to find Ryder sitting behind the wheel of his Rover. He wore aviators and a leather jacket—thank you, warmer day—that probably cost more than my car repairs. Damn, did he look hot. The dark jacket contrasted with his beach-boy blond hair in a way that made my mouth water.
“Hey, sexy,” he called out as he pushed his aviators up to his head. “Need a ride?”
