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Chapter Eleven
After Sophie threw on a pair of shorts, she and Ryder got to work. They washed her car first, and Sophie had to admit she was having a great time. She’d always loved cars, attracted to the rev of the engine and the jerk of speed when she switched from one gear to another. Sometimes on Sundays, she’d head out of the city north toward Wisconsin, just to drive fast on the deserted back highways while the wind whipped through her hair. It was her private escape for when she needed to think and be quiet.
She also loved to baby her Porsche, a present to herself when she got promoted. And why not? She could be frivolous, she had no kids or mortgage to support. No one to depend on her.
She rarely got to wash her car because she lived in the city, so she took extreme pleasure in it now.
She glanced over at Ryder, spreading wax over her hood, his muscles glossy and glittering in the sun. She didn’t know why she’d told him about her plans to quit, plans she hadn’t even told her best friends. She’d been happy when he let it go and didn’t press for further information, even though the desire to probe had sat heavy in the way he’d studied her.
He circled over the creamy hood and she called out, “You’re doing it wrong again.” He wasn’t, but they’d fallen into a rhythm of antagonistic teasing as they worked to establish a relationship that didn’t include ripping each other’s clothes off.
He glanced up at her, that quirk on his lips. “I am not. Who’s the expert here? Me or you?”
“Me.” The word was sassy as she planted her hands on her hips.
Sophie had managed to learn a lot about Ryder over the course of the afternoon. She learned his mom and dad had a great marriage. That he loved his baby sisters. How he’d been recruited to work in Revival, that she suspected was half a story by the way he hurried through it. That Charlie was more than his boss, he was also a friend.
She also learned the only reason this house was for rent was because he planned on tearing it down next year and building one big house, which made her think he had plans for a family, although he hadn’t said as much.
She tried to picture some woman coming out onto the deck and calling him in for iced tea, or maybe washing the cars with him like she was doing. She envisioned Ryder’s future wife as her exact opposite, tall, lithe, and brunette. Maybe she’d bake cookies and wear an apron. Maybe she’d have gray-eyed little children tugging at her skirt.
Sophie immediately hated her.
Cloth still in hand, he straightened. “I wax my car weekly. How many times have you waxed yours?”
“Never.” She flipped her hair. “I’ve watched plenty of YouTube videos. I know what’s up.”
He laughed. “YouTube.”
“What’s wrong with that? They are very instructional and informational.”
“All right, then.” He tossed another cloth on the hood. “Get started, darlin’.”
“You don’t think I can do it, do you?”
“I have faith in you that you can rub circles.” He winked at her. “I just think it’s a lot more laborious than you believe.”
She walked over to stand next to him, picking up the soft cloth. He glanced down at her, and his expression darkened as their eyes met.
It had been like this too. That spark of chemistry was not easily contained, but they both seemed content to ignore it and work on the plan they’d laid out last night.
She jerked her attention away and got to work, slowly working the wax into the paint before wiping it away. Fifteen minutes later her arms ached in a way that told her she’d been slacking during her workouts.
She also found it boring.
She straightened. “You finish up, I’ll get started on hosing down your car.”
“Is that an order?” He smirked at her.
“Yes.” She tossed the cloth to him. It hit his stomach and fluttered to the ground. She swung on her heels and walked over to pick up the hose before turning back to him. “Get to it, boy.”
One dark brow slowly rose up his forehead. “And this has nothing to do with your biceps burning?”
She tilted her chin. “Of course not. I’m being efficient.”
His gaze dipped. “You don’t fool me one bit.”
That was part of the problem. She didn’t think she did, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be seen. She flashed him a smile and snapped her fingers. “Chop chop.”
