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Christie
This was bullshit. Besides swearing off one-night stands, I needed to swear off men.
I couldn’t afford a new phone. That was the reality I lived in. I could just call him over and over until he gave me my phone back, but he seemed to have a lot more patience than I did, and my plane left in two days.
Short on ideas and threats, I opened Ryan’s phone and looked through his call log. I was dying to do something I knew would piss him off. If all he wanted to do was play games with me, I’d play games. I wasn’t sure what I thought I’d find. I didn’t know if he lived with anyone or who might know him here. Most of his calls were to random numbers or numbers that looked like they had something to do with work. I thought he said something about expanding his business to other cities in Texas. One of the last numbers he’d called said “Office.”
Whatever. I shook my head, pausing when I closed the call log to look at the sweet face on his home screen. That poor boy had a jerk for a dad. I hadn’t thought much about whether he was in a relationship or, worse, married. He didn’t ever wear a ring. And he’d seemed so nice when I met him, though when I thought about it, was he much different from when I met him? He enjoyed talking and listening that day at the airport, and he’d been interested in how the conference went before I blew up on him.
“And he was a flirt then, too,” I mumbled, swiping to his maps. Warmth spread in my core and made me shift. My abdomen tingled with a steady hum that turned my thoughts elsewhere to a dark bedroom and a spontaneous, exciting few hours. The most exciting few hours I’d had in a long time.
There! Thank Google for its settings. He had an address marked “Home” and one marked “Work.” I wasn’t sure what it was about his work address that turned me off going there. This was a personal issue, and I doubted my phone would be at his workplace anyway.
He would so freak out, but this was a game I was almost comfortable with playing. I had his phone, so it would only make sense that I would have all his personal information. Besides, if he was so worried about it, maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to try to take me back there.
I redirected the cab driver to his address and scrolled through his photos like the stalker I was becoming. His son was precious. I didn’t see many kids with red hair, and it was charming on this boy. He was like an angel with the most beautiful hazel eyes I’d ever seen. He looked like he was about four. I didn’t see any photos of a woman. That made me feel better. I smiled as I found more photos of Ryan with his son, mostly in a place I assumed was his house. I frowned at the idea of Ryan bringing me home if his son was there. Or maybe he was with a babysitter. Or a nanny who took care of him when Ryan went out of town.
So Ryan could be home alone. Well, shit. My face flushed with heat. I’d walked out on the man after he admitted I was a booty call, and now I was going to his house after blatantly showing him that I wasn’t interested.
Warmth pooled in my core, and I shifted uncomfortably. I wasn’t interested, was I? We had slept together once, so was it normal for people to do it again? I could have overreacted. He hadn’t said hewouldn’tgive me my phone, just that I needed to go back to his place to get it. We were flirting, so it was a fair social cue.
Now I felt bad. I’d have to apologize, but I was leaving with my phone no matter what. This runaround thing was getting ridiculous, and even if Ryan were a good guy, him keeping my phone captive, for whatever reason, was getting to be pretty annoying. I had a job offer on the table—almost—and I couldn’t ruin my chances.
When we finally pulled up to the house, I sat back in the seat for a moment, nerves flooding my body as I stared at the snow-white siding with deep blue trim. It was cute, and it looked well-kept. He was a gardener. Of course, it would be. I chuckled as I paid and stepped out of the car, waving to the cab driver.
The steps to the door were like steps to an interview. My body flooded with nerves, and each step I took closer to the door made me feel like what I was doing would bite me in the butt. I still felt a connection to Ryan, even if he was currently being an ass. I was a sucker for an apology on a good day. Usually. I hadn’t had enough of the margarita for it to hit me, but the thought of being alone with Ryan was starting to make me feel short of breath.
I knocked before I could change my mind, realizing I hadn’t even looked for his car in the driveway. What if he wasn’t home yet?
My question fell away to more important ones when the door opened, and a woman stood there wearing pajamas and a sleepy, angry expression. “Please tell me something bad happened,” she said, “because this is way too late for someone to knock on my door.”
My door. That confirmed it. I inhaled deeply, shoving down all my feelings. I would be honest because I’d want someone to be honest with me.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. My name is Christie. I know this will sound strange, and first, I need you to know that I had no idea.”
“What?” The woman blinked until she seemed more awake and alert, yawning as she took a step onto the porch and shut the door softly behind her. “What are you talking about? Christie, you said you were?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I just came for my phone.”
The woman shook her head, her eyes closed as she processed what I had said. “Your what?”
“My phone.”
She crossed her flannel-sleeved arms over her chest, her eyes narrower. “What makes you think I have your phone?”
I rocked on my heels. This was it. “That’s the tricky part. I’m really, really sorry. But your husband took my phone.”
She shook her head. “How...”
“Forget it,” I interrupted and spread my hands out in front of me like two shields. “I’ll just deal with this later. I shouldn’t have shown up like this.”
“Duke!”
Duke? I’d turned toward the steps but whipped back around as the porch light came on and a man filled the doorway. Not the man I expected but a big, burly man who looked more like a bouncer at a nightclub.
“Who is this woman? And why do you have her phone?” the woman asked him.
The man narrowed his gaze at me as if considering me against every woman he’d been around.
