“Hey.” I soothe him, massaging his back. “Is Rhys?—”
“Fell asleep halfway through the first story.” He kisses my forehead. “He was pretty wound up after everything.”
We hug until Mae joins us in the room, carrying a thick sandwich on a plate and a glass of water. “Here you go, sweetheart. Turkey and Swiss with all the fixings.”
“Thank you.” I take the food and drink, even though my appetite has not returned.
“Let me show you to your room,” Mae says, already heading for the stairs.
I follow her up, Ryder trailing behind with my overnight bag. The guest bedroom is at the end of the hall, decorated in soft blues and creams, with a handmade quilt spread over the bed.
“The bathroom is across the hall,” Mae says, smoothing a hand over the quilt even though it is already perfect. “Fresh towels are in the cabinet. If you need anything at all?—”
“I’ll be fine,” I insist. “Thank you again. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
I drop the plate and glass on the nightstand.
“It’s no trouble at all.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Family takes care of family.”
The word lodges in my chest. Family. I haven’t known the Evanses for very long, and yet they’ve welcomed me into their home without hesitation.
Mae gives me a quick hug, then heads back downstairs, leaving Ryder and me alone.
He sets my bag down by the bed, then turns to face me. We stand still for a moment, looking at each other. So much has happened in just a few hours.
His mouth quirks, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Not what I had planned for tonight.”
“No kidding.” I go to him and push the tip of my fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “What did you have in mind, cowboy?”
“Definitely more kissing.” His hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “A lot more.”
My pulse kicks up. “Rain check?”
“You mean tornado check?” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll see how long it will be before you can go back home.”
Right, of course. The practical, ugly aftermath of a disaster.
But now, with his lips against my skin and his warmth surrounding me, tomorrow feels far away.
“Ryder,” I whisper.
“Hmm?”
Without overthinking, I stretch up and kiss him. It’s meant to be quick, a simple goodnight, but the moment our lips meet, my noble intentions evaporate. His restraint snaps as fast. Ryder’s arms come around me, pulling me flush against him, and I melt into him.
This is widely inappropriate. His mother could walk in at any moment. His son, too. The thought of Rhys makes me pull back. “I’m sorry.”
“I should go.” He doesn’t move.
“You should.”
Neither of us moves.
Then a floorboard creaks downstairs, and we spring apart like guilty teenagers. Ryder runs a hand over his face, letting out a shaky laugh.
“Goodnight, trouble.”
“Night, cowboy.”
