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“Don’t be insane.”
“The only thing I have is HBO so I can watch Game of Thrones.”
“At least I know you’re not completely a lost cause.” Sophie started pressing buttons. “It’s a true crime documentary, you’ll like it.”
“If you say so.” He picked up a plate. “What do you want?”
“Everything. I love food and I’m starving.”
He shook his head.
“What?”
He scooped a little bit of everything onto her plate. “I love a girl who likes to eat.”
“Then, Ryder Moore, you have met your match.”
The words were flippant, but as soon as they left her mouth there was a stilling. An awkwardness that filled the air and spoke what neither of them dared to say.
That maybe he had, and that maybe she had too.
She saw now that she’d been wrong about him. He wasn’t bad, not really; he was fun and made her think risky things, but he was a good man.
Not only had he’d brought her dinner, but he’d taken care of everything. In her vast dating experience, she’d learned most men half-assed things, wanting her to do most of the work and planning. They called for a date and immediately left the plans up to her by asking so many questions she ended up with all the decisions in her lap.
But Ryder had taken care of everything. He’d done all the work for her.
She’d been right to think him dangerous.
Only now she realized it was for all the wrong reasons.
* * *
Well now, wasn’t this surreal?
If anyone had told Ryder he’d be in this situation four days ago, he’d have told them they were crazy. But here he was, stomach full, wine consumed, and sitting on Sophie’s couch.
Dinner was long over, they’d drunk two bottles of wine, cleared the table, laughed, talked, and now they were sitting on her couch, three episodes into Making a Murderer.
He was mildly buzzed as he suspected Sophie was too, considering how she lazily took up most of the couch. He was more than a foot taller than her and scrunched into the corner.
Neither had acknowledged how they’d ended up here, ignoring the scene in the yard as though it had been an aberration.
“Oh my God!” Sophie yelled at the TV before she turned to him, gesturing wildly. “Can you believe this? You’re in law enforcement. Explain how this is possible?”
Ryder figured if he had Sophie around to watch TV with all the time, he’d spend a lot more time watching. She was fun as hell. She yelled obscenities at the screen. Had arguments with the characters, bossed them around, and let out huffs of exasperation.
He could watch her all day.
She scowled, her expression fierce. “Well?”
He raised a brow. “Are you really asking? Or do you have an opinion formed and are not interested in changing your mind?”
She kicked him in the thigh. “Of course I’m not going to change my mind.”
He laughed and shook his head. It was a good thing, because he had no fucking clue what was going on in the documentary. He’d been too busy watching her, studying her to pay attention.
He gestured toward her. “Sophie, how can one small person take up the entire couch?”
