Lea nodded. “That’ll be easier on his wife. I don’t look forward to Ben leaving in March.”
“He’ll be fine,” Ryder said, stepping close to brush his finger over the baby’s soft hair. “You all will.”
A lump the size of a cinder block lodged itself in Sophia’s throat. It didn’t take much for her to imagine him looking so tenderly at his own baby.
Whoa. Now that was a dangerous thought.
“Hey, guys. Look over here,” Lea said, and when Sophia and Ryder glanced at her, the woman snapped a picture. “Thanks. I want to send it to Brandi.”
She gave herself a mental shake. Time to give the baby back to her momma, and get to work. “Thanks for bringing Melody here for me to meet her.”
“No problem.” Lea held out her arms, and Sophia handed over the yawning baby, who started to fuss. “She got to see her Uncle Ryder, too.”
A smile actually curved his mouth, but he remained silent.
“Are you leaving now?” Sophia asked. “We can walk you out. I just need to change quickly before we head to the college.”
“Thanks, but it’s almost time to nurse her,” Lea said. “So, if you don’t mind, I might stick around in here to do that before I leave.”
“Of course.” She unfolded a metal chair and set it by the table for Lea, then grabbed the folder with her sketches and shoved them in her purse. “Ready?” she asked Ryder. “I left my dress in the lobby bathroom, so I could change on the way out.”
When he nodded and motioned with his hand for her to lead the way, she grabbed her purse and headed out the door. He was very quiet.
Too quiet.
Not at all like the sexy man, pressing her against the ladder with his hot, hard body.
But somehow, someway, she was determined to peel those layers back and freeMr. Knock-your-socks-off, whether Ryder liked it or not.
***
Almost a week had passed since Ryder was alone with Sophia. In any room. He told himself it was a good thing. It kept him from making a mistake they might both regret. Although, every time he found himself recalling their embraces, the only regret he had was not spending more time with her—alone.
Overall, he’d seen her four times that week. Three were at the theater, and one was lunch at the diner with the gang. Each time, they’d been surrounded by people. Safe. No chance of screwing up again.
But that didn’t stop him from thinking about it. Hell, no. Especially when she paired those shorts with boots and that sexy tool belt. Even now, his veins heated just thinking about her luscious silhouette.
But luckily, they’d had volunteers to guide. And so far, things were going great in that department. His team was constructing the sets, her team was painting them and adding details. It was a good system. They already had one set completely finished, and half of another.
But, he wasn’t going to think about the theater. Wasn’t going to think about Sophia. He wasn’t even going to think about work, even though, by some miracle, he’d managed to win both bids that week. Nope. Tonight, he was going to concentrate on enjoying the Mets game with Ethan and Ben on Ethan’s big screen TV. It was the closest thing to actually being at the game.
It was Thursday, so the women were out having their chocolate fest, which left their husbands free to enjoy sports, like back in the old days.
Smiling, he carried three boxes of pizza—his one addiction—through the resort, to a special entrance Brandi had created for the Wyne family’s private residence section. He shifted the boxes to one hand and knocked on the door. Man, he could almost taste the cold beer in Ethan’s fridge. But it wasn’t Ethan who answered the door. It was Phoebe.
“Hey, Ryder. Come on in.” She smiled and stepped aside, wearing a pretty black dress.
He raised a brow. “Hi, Phoebe. You look nice. Didn’t expect to see you here. Was your chocolate thing canceled?” He entered, but waited for her to proceed him down the hall that led to the open-concept kitchen family room.
She laughed. “Sort of.”
An uneasy feeling crept up his spine, then branched out over his shoulders when they reached the family room. Ethan and Ben were there, without T-shirt, jeans, and beer. They wore suits, and stood next to his sister—also wearing a black dress.
“What’s going on?” He walked further into the room, where he noticed Sophia, leaning against the kitchen island near a bottle of wine and large chocolate cake with cherries on top. Her hair was down, and fell in waves over her bare shoulders. Awareness spread through him at sickening speed. She wore a dress too, but not a fancy black one. It was a casual one, with flowers printed all over.
He had the urge to pick each and every one.
She smirked. “We’ve been dumped for a show.”
