Page 23 of Ryder’s Storm

“Hey, Wes, sorry to disturb you so early, but I’m in a bind. I messed up. I need to smooth things over with a girl.”

Wes chuckled. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Mr. Cool-as-a-cucumber screwed up? What happened? Did you bite a girl without her permission?”

“Of course not!” Ryder ground out. He wasn’t a cad. “But she’s mad at me, and I want her to like me again.”

“The answer is no,” Wes said firmly.

“You don’t even know what I want your help with,” Ryder said, stunned at Wesley’s instant refusal.

“I’m not making you a love potion. It’s unethical. Bye, Ryder.”

“Don’t hang up!” Ryder said quickly. “I’m not asking for a love potion.”

“What do you want then?”

“Your recipe for your famous coconut pancakes.”

“Why didn’t you say so immediately?”

“You didn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”

“Fair enough. So you’re trying to win her back the old-fashioned way? Good, ‘cause a love potion isn’t permanent. I take it you really like her then?” Wes fished.

Ryder ignored his questions. If he told Wes anything, all of Scanguards would know it minutes later. “So you’ll send it to me?”

“Texting it to you in a moment.”

“Thanks.”

“And Ryder?”

“Yes?”

“Good luck!”

“Thanks, bro.”

A few seconds later, the text message with Wesley’s recipe arrived, and Ryder got to work on preparing what he needed.

By the time Scarlet came down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a dark sweater that reached down to the middle of her thighs, obscuring her delectable figure, the whole house smelled of coffee and pancakes. She looked a little pale this morning, her hair tied back in a ponytail again, her facial expression distant and reserved. She barely looked at him.

“Morning,” he said, deciding that saying good morning would only invite a snide remark. He wasn’t going to give Scarlet a reason to start an argument. “I don’t know whether you like pancakes, but I made plenty.”

“Hmm.”

Well, at least she wasn’t completely silent. A hmm hardly qualified as a word, though apparently in Scrabble it counted.

Ryder turned back to the oven and pulled out the casserole where he’d kept the pancakes warm. He placed the dish on the table he’d set for one person only. He wasn’t planning on joining her for breakfast, not because he wasn’t hungry, but because he knew she didn’t want his company.

“I’ll be in the living room,” he said, and left the kitchen.

He heard Scarlet pull the chair out from under the table to sit down. At least, she wasn’t rejecting his peace offering outright. It was a start.

In the living room, Ryder settled in an armchair and stared out the window. He’d have to learn to be patient. Rome wasn’t won in a day either. Neither would Scarlet.

His cell phone rang. He looked at the number and picked it up. “Hey, Damian, what’s up?”

Damian chuckled. “Heard you were at the Mezzanine two nights ago. Quite something that happened there…”