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“Good morning, ma’am,” he greets with a half-smile. I don’t know how he feels about my intrusion on him, and I don’t know how to take this little arrangement my mother had a hand in.
“Good morning. This is beautiful.” I point to the piece in front of him.
“Thank you. There’s coffee in that office right there if you want some.” He points just like he did last night to show me the way.
“Yes, coffee would be great. Thank you.” I move to go to the office, but the rapid pace of paws approaching me has me frozen in place.
“Whoa there, Rusty,” Ryan says, and I turn to see what’s going to happen. He’s clipping a leash onto his collar and hooking it to a bench that’s sitting just outside. His gesture makes me feel safe and comfortable in this stranger's home. Even though, last night I weirdly felt at ease and got the best night of sleep I’ve had in a very long time.
Everything is easy to find, and it’s quick to fix my coffee. When I return to the larger room, Ryan is sitting on one side of the bench. So, I go join him. Although, as soon as I reach the empty side, Rusty makes a sudden change in position from laying down next to Ryan to apparently trying to greet me. All this does is complicate my feet by wrapping the leash around one of my ankles and sending me flying through the air. My coffee goes in one direction, and my body falls fast towards the hard ground at Ryan’s feet.
Like a hero, those big strong arms snatch me out of the air, and we’re face to face. Chest to chest. Eye to eye. Lips to lips. Wait. What? I just planted my lips on his!
Chapter 5
Ryan
I’m standing in the middle of my workroom, doing very little work because all I can think about is the strange, yet beautiful, woman that showed up at my house in the middle of the night. Something about her feels… different. Hell, I even leashed my damn dog for her, so she’d be more comfortable.
Now, she’s walked into my space, admiring my work, and Rusty had the balls to do what I couldn’t; get her in my arms. With her lips planted firmly on mine, my thoughts have gone from semi-innocent to raging hard-on. I have to take a step back to not only right her, but myself too.
After making sure she’s standing upright, I swipe my hands down my jeans and clear my throat. “Sorry about that. He’s not used to being tied up.” Tied up. I can think of someone else I’d like to have tied up.
“It’s… okay,” she stammers. “I have this irrational fear, according to my mother, of dogs. I know he didn’t mean to.” We take a seat on the bench together, and she asks me about my work. “So, do you make all this yourself?”
“Yeah, my dad used to play around with wood carvings, and it’s something I started a couple years back as a way to get some peace. Now it’s how I make a living. I love doing it.” I smile, and she returns it with a beautiful one of her own. “You know, you don’t have to leave right away. I know you traveled a good way, and you must still be a little tired.” I don’t know why, but I want her around a little longer. I haven’t wanted any woman like this in a long time.
“I was actually going to speak with you about that today. I can’t get a flight until at least tomorrow. You’d be okay with me staying another night?”
Darlin’, I’d be okay if you never left. I shock myself with that thought. “Yeah, sure. What kind of host would I be if not? Matter of fact, I’ll even cook you brunch, so you get the full experience.”
Her eyes light up as she looks at me. “You don’t have to do that, really.”
“Oh, I insist.”
“Okay, so this supposed AirBnB our mothers have created has now become a bed-and-breakfast. Thank you for your hospitality. Can I help with anything?”
“I’ll throw a few steaks on the grill, so it’s not going to be that hard. Just kick your feet up and rest wherever you’d like.” I’m still shocked at how I went from this guy who doesn’t want a woman around, to this man cooking her a fucking meal.
As I’m busying around the kitchen and back and forth outside cooking, I watch her get cozy on my couch, curl up in a blanket, and doze off. She looks so peaceful and relaxed. I don’t really want to wake her to tell her that brunch is ready, yet I don’t want her food to get cold either.
Decision made, I kneel down in front of her and gently stroke my finger over her forehead to brush away a fallen lock of hair that’s covering her sleeping eyes. She wakes and smiles at me. The look in her eyes is one of happiness and content. That warms my damaged heart.
“Food’s ready, sweetheart.” The endearment slips out, but I won’t take it back.
We eat and enjoy each other's company sitting across another table that I made. It’s actually a good feeling to be able to share my designs with someone other than my family. I never thought that would be the case, and I’m a little taken aback by the realization.
“Let me help you clean up. That meal was delicious,” she offers.
“Sure, we can just rinse off the dishes and throw them in the dishwasher. How about a drink on the back porch?”
“That sounds lovely,” she agrees as she picks the plates up from the table. I work to get all the rest of the scattered items put away.
“Wine okay?” I ask and grab my non-alcoholic beer from the fridge.
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll meet you out there in just a few minutes.”
