But it can’t be love.
No frigging way.
“Mom, listen…” I swallow, unaccountably nervous. “When Dad left, you said… You said guys aren’t worth the trouble. That when I grow up, I should choose one that can take care of me, not someone who’d steal my heart. I just thought to—”
“Oh, honey, that’s what’s on your mind?” There’s an uncharacteristic complete and total silence following this. I think she turned off the TV. “Those were… angry words. Yeah, I was so angry back then. I felt betrayed. That doesn’t mean there aren’t good men out there.”
“But Mom—”
“Men worthy of your heart.” She sounds fierce now. “Don’t be afraid to give it away, to take a risk on someone.”
“But—”
“This guy, this Ryan. If you really want him, if you love him, baby… find out who he really is. You can’t know a man living behind a wall. Break that wall. And then you’ll know once you really see him.”
She never said things like these to me before. “Mom… are you seeing somebody?”
It’s the only explanation.
“I have to go, baby,” she says. “Talk to you soon.”
Oh my God. She totally is!
***
Dressed to the nines, in my highest heels and my hair piled on top of my head in my most artful chignon, I enter his office with a box of goodly surprise.
It’s all about the package, right? At least I hope so.
I hope he likes the package. And not only.
God, I’m freaking out. I was supposed to be cool-headed and collected, following my plan, but all I care for right now is a smile from him, a heated look from those green eyes.
He doesn’t glance up immediately. He’s bent over an open folder, a hand buried in his short, blond hair, moving back and forth. His forehead is creased up in concentration, and he looks so serious, so hot in his fine blue shirt, stretched tight over broad shoulders, that my heart trips over.
Muscular guys seem to be my M.O.—and I turn away with an effort from that line of thinking that leads me straight to Riddick.
Focus.
I clear my throat, and his gaze snaps up, brows drawing together. “What are you doing here?”
Not exactly the opening I expected.
And also unexpectedly, my eyes sting.
I hide it, giving him a smile. “I brought you something.”
He stares at the pink box in my hands, still frowning. If that doesn’t give him a headache… and wrinkles. I hope he’s aware of that. “So that was you last time.”
“Who else would it be?” I ask, wounded to the heart. “Is there another woman bringing you super delicious sweets made with her own two hands?”
He got the box. And never mentioned it. Never even asked me about it.
After he kissed me.
And after… after I thought there was progress.
“Look, Brylee… I have too much work.” He turns his attention back to his folder. “And I don’t eat sweets.”