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“You ready?”
Is Ryker the most confusing man in the world or what? “Ready for what?”
“The second half of my apology.”
I giggle. “There’s no need. The gloves are perfect.”
I’ve had my eye on a pair of Ralph Lauren wool touch gloves, but they are way out of my price range. I need to learn how to shop in my price range, but since my prince range is currently free, I’m thinking I need to stop window shopping and feeling sorry for myself when I can’t afford anything.
“Get your coat.”
“Do not boss me around.”
He ignores my order as his eyes sweep my room. It isn’t much, but I did the best with what I have. I bought one of those contraptions for dorm rooms with a raised bed and a couch underneath for my ‘living room’. In the opposite corner is a small area designated as my ‘kitchen’. It’s not much – a desk with my hot plate on it and a shelf above it with some plates. There’s also a refrigerator under the desk. Next to my ‘kitchen’ is a small table pushed against the wall with a single stool.
Ryker walks forward and snatches my coat from the coat rack. “It’s cold out. Bundle up.”
I open my mouth to argue with him but then my stomach grumbles.
“I’m buying.” Those are the magic words. I put on my coat and motion for him to proceed me out of the door.
The minute I step outside, the wind whips in my face, and I shiver. This is my first winter living up north and I am freezing. Suzie warned me I haven’t seen anything yet. Something not to look forward to. Ryker puts his arm around me and ushers me to his truck.
“Where are we going?” I ask once we’re in his truck and pulling away from the curb.
“Somewhere I can feed you.”
You won’t hear any arguments from me.
We drive ten minutes and pull up to a bar and grille. “Why don’t we go to McGraw’s if we’re going to a pub anyway?”
“Maybe I want you alone,” he says before jumping out of the truck.
Before I can open my door, he’s there helping me out. He grabs my hand and leads me into the bar. The bar isn’t much different than McGraw’s except there are several dartboards in one corner. The rest is the same – green upholstery, shiny bar with a variety of different whiskeys displayed, and pool tables in a far corner.
We grab a table and start the process of pulling off all our winter gear. Another thing I’m not liking about the northern climate. I look like a giant Pillsbury doughboy when I’m all bundled up. And while the doughboy pulls off cute without a hitch, I most certainly don’t. Being fashionable when it’s freezing out is impossible, although why I care about being fashionable any more is beyond me.
The waitress approaches and Ryker orders without looking at the menu. “We’ll have two hamburgers and two beers.” Once she nods and leaves, he explains, “They don’t have your vodka here.”
I roll my eyes. I don’t exactly own the Stolichnaya distillery.
“And don’t start up about wanting to eat rabbit foot. You’ve lost too much weight as it is.”
What? How does he know I’ve lost weight? I mean, I have but not on purpose. When you’re living on limited funds, rent gets paid before groceries. Now, there’s a lesson I never thought I would have to learn. I’ve never been on a budget in my life. Not when I was fifteen and going to the mall with my friends and not when I was a college student.
To be honest, I have no interest in rabbit food right now. Rabbit food does nothing to fill my empty stomach. You’d think I’d be used to being hungry, having dieted my entire life to make sure I fit into an ‘appropriate’ size for a lady. But there is a huge difference between eating fresh fruit and vegetables while dieting and not having any food to eat at all. Huge.
“Where are you from?” I ask while we wait for our food.
He raises an eyebrow and I’m convinced he’s not going to answer my question but then he says, “California.”
My hands tremble and I place them in my lap to hide my reaction. I do not want to think about California. Moving on. “How long did you think you’ll be in Wisconsin?”
He shrugs. “As long as it takes.”
“As long as what takes?” The man talks in riddles.
“Babe.” I know what his grunt means. It means he won’t be answering my question. And I thought Wally was a man of mystery.
Our beers and burgers arrive. My eyes practically bulge out of my head at the size of the burger. And there is a mound – seriously, a mound – of fries on my plate. I’ve never eaten this much fatty food in my life, let alone at one sitting. But no one’s stopping me with her little shakes of her head and downturned nose from digging in now.
“Tell me about yourself,” Ryker asks as he picks up his burger.
The question throws me. It’s definitely a date question. Is this a date? Or is it an apology dinner? I’ve never been on an apology dinner, but I’ve been on plenty of dates. I look around the cozy pub where everyone is dressed in jeans and boots. This doesn’t feel like a date. Guess it’s an apology dinner. And no, I’m not disappointed. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
After we eat, we play a few rounds of darts. Try to play in my case. I couldn’t hit the target if it were as big as the side of a barn. I finally give up, and Ryker takes me home. He escorts me to my door and kisses my forehead. “Lock up,” he orders as he steps back.
Kiss on the forehead? Totally not a date. And why does that thought cause a pit of disappointment to develop in my stomach? You’ve sworn off men, Phoebe. Remember?
