“I have a little surprise for you. A token of my thanks.”
“Thanks?” I furrow my brow. “For what?”
But Ryder doesn’t say anything as he leads me up the hill that connects the barn and corral to the New House’s backyard.
Just when I start to worry that something is wrong, he says, “I went looking for my guitar last night.”
I slow. Then I stop, grabbing his arm. My eyes feel like they’re liable to pop right out of my head. “You found it.”
His gaze slides to meet mine. The sun slants across his face, his hat casting a shadow over his eyes. “I played it too.”
My heart throbs inside my ears. “And?”
“And what?”
“Well, why didn’t you call me? Surely you remember what an excellent vocalist I am. Christ, Ry, we could’ve covered half of Taylor’s catalogue if you’d invited me over.”
His lips twitch. “Why do you think I invited you today?”
Who is this man? Why does it feel like he’s drawing me closer, when for so long, he’s pushed me away?
Hell, Ryder keepseveryoneat arm’s length. But today he’s doing the opposite, and it doesn’t compute.
“You’re looking at me funny,” he says.
“Yeah, ’cause you’re acting funny. You’re really gonna play your guitar for me today?”
“Actually.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “It was a lot. Playing. I only got through two songs.”
The sun’s warmth pours down my shoulders and back. I blink back the sudden sting in my eyes. “Yeah?”
“Felt like an excavator was demoing my insides. Like all my electrical wiring and insulation was exposed after being hidden away inside my walls.”
My heart does another flip. “That’s…a vivid image.”
“It was excruciating. Made me miss my mom. It made me miss a lot of things.”
“Aw, Ry.” I curl my fingers around his arm and give his shockingly solid bicep a squeeze, my heart squeezing too at the way he’s opening up. This is abigdeal. “But today you feel better.”
His eyes light up with surprise. “I do. I went to bed…not feeling great, but less weighed down, I guess.”
“Less scared, maybe?”
The sun catches on his eyelashes as he looks at me.Looks.
Heat blooms in the space between us. Heat and tension. The kind that has the front of my thighs prickling with awareness. My eyes are drawn to his mouth.
“Scared of what?” His voice is like gravel.
“Your feelings. Your grief. Your past.” I search his gaze. “Me.”
I mean it as a joke—or maybe I don’t—but either way, Ryder doesn’t laugh. My stomach dives straight through my center and into the core of the Earth as he leans in instead.
Holy God, is Ryder going to kiss me? Right here, right now, for anyone and everyone to see? This is happening so fast.
So. Damn. Fast.
Then again, hasn’t this moment been a lifetime in the making? I’ve only wanted Ryder to kiss me for, oh, over a decade now.
