Yet she’d just opened up to Ryder like he was her soul mate or something.
“How many foster parents did you have?” he asked.
She shrugged, trying for a flippant demeanor, but Ryder’s gray eyes were penetrating, like he could see right through her.
“Lost count,” she admitted. “But about two a year. Then there were bouts in the group home until another family was selected.”
“That’s why you said you were from everywhere.”
“We stayed near the Boston area.”
“We, as in you and your sister.”
She leaned toward him and licked her lips. He obliged her with another bite of cobbler. It gave her a minute to think. Usually her thoughts would be about how to get out of this conversation, but for some reason, talking to Ryder didn’t feel so bad.
“Yes, we stuck together.”
“I’m glad. So you had a sense of home wherever you went,” he said, and the softness in his voice made that hole in her chest throb. He understood. They were two totally different people from totally different walks of life, and somehow he said the one thing that summed up perfectly her life, her sister, and what Kacey had meant to her.
“Yes. She was like home.” Just saying it crushed her. Yeah, she went from place to place now, no roots, because once she’d lost Kacey, no place had ever felt like home again.
“I’m sorry you lost her.”
He didn’t ask how or why, or go for the gory details. He was calm, allowing her to lead with whatever she wanted to tell. And she appreciated him for that. More than she ever thought she could appreciate anyone.
“So…” She slapped her thighs, hoping for a subject detour. Because, truth was, she wanted to hear about Ryder. He’d opened up to her a little, and she valued that information dearly. It was a glimpse into the man he kept hidden. The man she enjoyed being around. “Word around the BBQ is this Hall you’ve redone is a big hit.” She snagged his hat and put it on her head.
“It’s a landmark for the town. It’s large and old, but with it restored, and by adding the auditorium, there will be an opportunity for some theater projects, plays, and events to be held there. Which is great for the city.”
“And that woman you talk to owns it?”
He looked at her. “Clara Davenport is the daughter of Milton Davenport, the man who owns a lot of property in Kansas.”
“Ah. So she must love that you’re in her building a lot.”
Ryder smiled. “Why, sweetness, if I didn’t know better, it’d sound like you were fishing.”
“Nope,” she said quickly. But crap, was she? She was out of her element here, thanks to this whole not-a-date-but-sort-of-a-date-thing.
“Clara and I went to school together. That’s it. She’s…”
“Persistent?”
“Something like that,” Ryder said. “Where did you go to school?”
She frowned. “What kind of question is that?”
“One I’m interested in. I didn’t know, with you having to move so much, if you got to stay at the same school.”
“For the most part we stayed in the same district. But our housing situation changed a lot. So it’s all a blur.”
“Making friends must have been hard.”
She looked at the silvery pools of his eyes, eating her up. Ryder and Penny were close. They had the same friends now that they’d had when they were young. And they were all close. That kind of family was something Whitney had always thought to be a myth. But the town of Diamond embodied the word “family.” If they took you in, you belonged for life, no matter who you were or where you came from.
Pain welled up in her chest. This was why she didn’t do the whole “talking and getting to know people” part of dating.
Ryder held out another spoonful of cobbler, and she took it, glad for the distraction. Chewing slightly was calming, and so was the food. So was Ryder’s presence, actually. He looked at her and waited with what seemed like infinite calm and control. And for the first time, she felt the urge to talk about her sister.