AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Opening the door, I take a step inside, and find Ryan behind a desk stacked with piles of papers and folders. He’s sitting in a big leather chair, typing away at a computer, looking disheveled in an impossibly sexy way.
He looks up at me with tired eyes. “You’re awake,” he says simply.
“Stating the obvious.” I smile, but see that he has an almost confused look on his face, so I try again. “Yes, I woke up and you weren’t there.”
“So, you came looking for me?” he asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice–almost accusatory.
“No, I was thirsty. I came down for water, and saw the light coming from beneath the door.” A lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Oh, sorry.” He rubs his forehead and then scrubs his hands down his face.
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. I sounded like an ass. I’m just tired.”
“Are you working? It’s like”–I look around until I find a clock on the wall–“three in the morning.”
“I know. I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to do a few things I should have done yesterday.”
“Sorry.” I smile, feeling my cheeks heat, knowing it was me who kept him distracted.
With a light laugh, he shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t mind. Trust me.”
“Okay.” I nod, letting my eyes wander around his office. It’s both manly and cozy. Bookshelves take up the wall behind him, filled with books on law, crime, justice, police handbooks, and everything in between. A vast change from the classics he has in the living room.
To the right are windows that look out to the front yard, and beneath are four filing cabinets, all stocked with important sheriff’s business I’m sure.
To the left, a huge safe takes up a big portion of the wall, and my brows draw together in confusion. “You have a safe?”
“It’s a gun safe.”
My eyes flash back to his, rounded in surprise. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” He smiles, pushing back his chair and standing. “Want to see?”
“Uh, okay?” I’ve never seen a gun in person. I’m not opposed per se, I’ve just never come in contact with one before.
Walking over, Ryan turns the dials on the lock until it clicks. When he pulls it open, my jaw drops. There’s, like, eight guns in there.
“Um, why do you need so many?”
“I don’t.” He shrugs. “I just like having options.”
“For what?” I ask taking a step back.
Laughing, he pulls out one of the big ones. “Here,” he says, holding it out towards me.
“What?”
“It’s not loaded.”
“Oh, okay.” Reaching out, I take it from his outstretched hand, and grip it tight. Lifting it up, I study it closely, feeling its weight in my hands.
“That’s a Weatherby Vanguard Series 2.”
“I was going to guess that, actually,” I tell him, smiling.
“Sure, of course.” He laughs lightly. “It’s my favorite for hunting.”
