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But this was not the time to be aroused. He battled against any facial expression that might give away his feelings, opting for a crisp nod.
“Roger that.”
Slowly, she released him from her grip. “Good. Now I want to thank you properly for the epic cardboard ship you created, and for whatever you had to do to get an early copy of your brother’s next book. Somehow you managed to single-handedly please everyone in this household.” Her mouth curved, finally,finallyinto a smile. The expression brought the sparkle back into her eyes and the teasing lilt to her voice as she added, “Including me.”
It was a long beat before he realized the pause meant he should speak.
“Uh, good. I’m glad you—you’re all—happy.” He glanced toward the pirate ship and he caught sight of the two little girls scampering down the driveway in their pajamas. Try as he might, he couldn’t restrain his grin. They were so freaking cute. “Watch out. Two coming up on your six.”
“On my what? Oh!” Bryce spun as Addison and Cecily crashed into her simultaneously, all three of them banging into the side of his truck.
“Can we invite Mr. Ryker over for a playdate?” Addison asked, her bent fairy wing quivering as it hung from the rubber-band-like holster over her pajamas. She tossed him an impish grin as she swung herself back and forth with her arms anchored around her aunt’s waist. “Puh-lease?”
“Please, please?” Cecily joined in, tugging on the opposite side of Bryce. He noticed that the middle girl’s face and arms were clean, and she smelled faintly of Lava soap.
“Oof, quit tugging on me, you two. I was going to ask if he wanted to come over Friday so I can cook him anadultdinner when you’re at Nana and Pop-Pop’s church.” She gave him that frank, assessing gaze he found so alluring. “I do my best thank-yous with my pots and pans. You free on Good Friday for dinner?”
Bam.
Just like that, he’d gone from the dog house to a dinner invite. He thanked whatever ancestors were watching over him for Bryce’s ability to forgive and move on.
“Totally free.” He made a mental note to reschedule his meetup with the Rochester exec to deliver the Mercury Cougar. No way was he missing out on his first date in ages for a car. “What time do you want me?”
One of her expressive eyebrows quirked up, as if she were ready to pounce on his comment and make a lewd joke. Instead, she glanced down at the girls, who were making it clear they were disappointed with the whole “adult dinner” decision, and then she made a wry grimace as she caught his gaze.
“How about you come over when the girls leave at five-thirty and help me cook. Gotta keep my skills sharp.” Bryce spoke over her nieces’ objections; they wanted to help. “And if two girls I know arereallygood and listen to their aunt until then, they can join us for dessert.”
Cecily and Addison whooped in delight, promising every good behavior in a rush of high-pitched words.
“But after dessert, can he play pirate with us on the ship? Please, will you play with us, Mr. Ryker?” Addison’s sky-blue gaze pinned him as effectively as a wrestler, the pleading look making him want to say anything so he could tap out.
“Aye. But only if I can borrow yer cutlass, lassie.” He did his best Jack Sparrow impression, squinting one eye for effect. “I lost mine during a fight with Davy Jones.”
Addison gasped. “I wonder if that’s Sammy’s dad! I have a Sammy Jones in my class, and he kept liftin’ up my dresses so everyone would see my underwear and laugh.”
Ryker wasn’t sure how to reply. So he leaned in on his pirate role, keeping the accent.
“Sammy sounds like a scallywag. If he did that on my ship, he’d walk the plank.”
The little blonde bobbed her head. “Yeah, I punched him in the throat. Only I got put in time-out afterward. Then Aunt Beamer called up my teacher and tol’ her boys who lift up girls’ dresses without permission deserve a throat-punch all day long.”
Ryker wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or figure out who the skirt-lifting twerp was and scare the bejesus out of him.
He opted for more pirate. More pirate was always safe.
“Arrgh! Yer aunt be a wise lass.”
Cecily’s eyes rounded, and she pointed at Ryker. “Ooh! You did a swear. You’ve gotta do ten push-ups. That’s what Aunt Beamer does when she swears.”
Bryce laughed. “He said ‘lass,’ which is some sort of Scottish slang for young lady. It’s not a swear, and besides, ten push-ups is hardly a punishment for a guy this strong. C’mon, you two. Let’s get out of the road so Ryker can get home. See you Friday at five-thirty.”
She reversed in giant, sumo-wrestler-like steps to the sidewalk, lifting the girls who hung, one on each leg, like living ballast. Both girls shrieked with laughter as she shuffled back up the driveway, towing them along with her. She gave one last wave before heading inside.
Ryker glanced in the rearview to make sure they were gone before he pulled away, and he caught sight of his expression.
Smiling. Again.
Shaking his head at himself, he headed back to the garage, whistling. It took a few bars before he realized what song was in his head.
