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“I have ways of restraining you if you get too wild, sweetheart.” He smirks.
A chill runs down my spine at the thought of Ryan handcuffing me–to a bed, a chair, or anything really. I think I’d like it, actually. Being at his mercy.
Seeing my reaction, Ryan tightens his grip on the steering wheel and pushes on, turning down a side street off of Main.
“You live so close to town.”
“Yeah. So I’ll be close in case you need me while I’m at work.”
“I can take care of myself. You realize you’re just taking me from one empty house to another, right?”
“Mine has power and hot water, though,” he says simply, and I sigh loudly, crossing my arms over my chest.
I don’t like the idea of being cooped up in his house. I want to be able to leave. I want to be able to breathe in air that I know isn’t filled with the scent of the sexy sheriff. And I sure as hell don’t want to feel like a damsel in distress.
With a little difficulty, Ryan plows his way into where I’m assuming a driveway normally resides.
“This is your house?”
I definitely wasn’t expecting something so…normal? A two-storied, white colonial styled house with black shutters, sits in a sea of snow between red and tan houses. Bushes line the front of his house on either side of the small, roofed–in front door, and two large snow-covered pine trees sit on either side of the house.
It’s beautiful.
“Yes. Did you expect something different?”
“Kind of. But I like it.”
“Good. Now just wait here and I’ll shovel a path to the side door.”
Jumping out of the truck before I have time to protest, Ryan grabs a shovel from the back of the truck and gets to work.
I don’t want him to think I’m not incapable of some manual labor. But…I really don’t feel like shoveling over a foot and a half of snow right now. So, I think I’ll just stay in the warm truck and watch as he does all the work.
It’s not a bad view.
Chapter 10
Walking through the side door, I step into the laundry/mud room, and then right into a big kitchen with dark hardwood floors, white cabinets, and sand colored granite countertops. The walls are painted a light beige, and the backsplash running above the counterspace, farm sink, and stove, is white tile that’s arranged in a chevron pattern.
I’m impressed with the simple, charming, style. I would never have expected this from a man like Ryan.
Following him through the kitchen, we step into the living room where there’s a fireplace on one wall with a huge flat screen TV hanging above it. One either side of that, built-ins take up the rest of the wall and are filled with books and pictures of Ryan and his family.
A pang of jealously hits my chest when I see their happy smiles and arms around one another.
A complete family.
Something I haven’t had in a long time.
Looking away, I take in the rest of the room. A brown leather couch sits facing the fireplace with a dark wooden table in front of it that’s covered in outdoorsy magazines, and two chairs face each other across the length of the table with plaid throw pillows on them.
The windows looking out to the front yard are frosted over, but I can see the tops of the snow-covered bushes beneath the sill. It’s such a warm and inviting living room that looks perfect to sit and read while curled up by the fireplace as the snow falls.
“I like it all.” I smile at Ryan, knowing he’s been watching me this entire time.
A small smile tugs at his lips and he nods, continuing to walk through the house. I follow him around to the foyer, where there’s French doors to the right of the front door, and a large staircase straight ahead. Heading up the stairs to the second floor, we walk down the hallway, and he opens a door on the right to reveal a bedroom.
“You can have this room,” he tells me, and I step inside.
