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In the days since Ryder and I spoke, I’ve been busy with my regular clients and making sure I have all the supplies necessary for this weekend. I wasted an embarrassing amount of time trying to choose between chef coats. I finally settled on a navy blue chambray short-sleeve one. The mesh side panels help to keep me cooler, which I’m sure to need being in his company.
My GPS tells me to take the next right, that I’ve arrived at my destination, but there’s no house in sight. Continuing along the driveway, I take in the beautiful land flanking either side of the road. The endless green fields with small groves of trees interspersed throughout remind me of a time gone by.
I’m convinced the GPS made an error and I’m in the wrong place. I can’t imagine Ryder Goode, hotshot hockey player and life of the party, lives so far removed from the city. I might only be thirty minutes from Charleston, but it feels like another world.
Up ahead I see a large red barn with fenced in paddocks on both sides. When I get closer, I notice they’re both occupied with animals. Pressing on the brake, I slow down and check out the small cows in the first one and the handful of miniature ponies inside the other.They’re so cute.I hope I get an opportunity to see them up close.
Once I’m ready to focus on the road in front of me, I move along toward the large gray farmhouse straight in front of me. I follow the driveway as it curves to the right around an island of flowers and greenery, then park behind the lone vehicle.
Before I get out, I check my hair and makeup in the visor mirror. I need to make up for the horrible first impression I made on him. With my hair slicked tightly back and knotted on top of my head, I look neat and professional.
I climb out and shove my phone into the pocket of my black chef pants. I’m not going to empty out the back until I make sure this is the correct address. A huge part of me is having trouble believing Ryder lives on a farm.
I climb the stairs to the wraparound porch and ring the bell before I can chicken out. My foot taps against the stone surface while I wait. It’s only a few seconds before the dark blue door opens in front of me, revealing Ryder in living flesh.Holy sexy guacamole.
“Hi, I’m Calista.” I hold out my hand, shocking myself at my ability to speak clearly.
He wraps his large, warm hand around mine and smiles. “Hi, Calista. I’m Ryder. It’s nice to officially meet you.”
I return his smile. “And you too.”
He releases my hand and steps backward, welcoming me inside with a flourish of his arm.
I hold up one finger. “Before I come inside, I need to empty out my van.”
“Let me help you,” he says, moving toward me.
“There’s no need. I do this all the time.”
“Well, you’ll have some help today.”
What usually takes me three trips is accomplished with one. He carries the majority of the bags while I follow him to the kitchen. I try not to ogle his bulging biceps.Try and fail.But how can I resist when they’re literal arm porn?Is arm porn a real thing?If it isn’t, I bet Ryder could make it one.
He sets everything on the huge island in the middle of the room and I do the same.
“I hope you read the part on my form about cleaning out your refrigerator and pantry,” I say.
He nods. “I did.”
“That would make you an anomaly, right? Since most men don’t read instructions.” I smile.
“I’m great at following them.” He winks, and my pulse kicks into a frenetic rhythm.
“Good to know,” I say, but it comes out in a breathy tone that sounds like a bad Marilyn Monroe impression. And even worse, it sounds like I’m flirting—well, trying to flirt—but that’s never been a skill I’ve mastered. I clear my throat. “I’m going to unpack all this stuff before I make your breakfast.”
“That works. I’ll leave you to it.”
“I’m not trying to give you the boot from your own kitchen. I just want you to know my plan.”
He opens a cabinet, grabbing two mugs. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, please. That would be great. I didn’t have any this morning.”
He moves over to the Keurig, and I notice how wide his shoulders are compared to his hips. His black basketball shorts conform to the muscular contours of his ass. Seeing him this close up is more impressive than I imagined.And I imagined plenty.
“Me either. During the hockey season, I drink some as soon as I wake up. It helps to get me going. But when I’m not playing, I don’t need as much.”
“What do you eat for breakfast when you’re in the thick of the season?” I ask, removing items from the bags and setting them out on the island.
