“I’m sure your brothers would pay for it. You really should talk to them if this is what you want,” I said, touching his arm.
“Yeah, I know. I just . . . I don’t want them to think that I’m going to disappoint them again. I know I have every other time they’ve had faith in me, but I really think this time I can do it.”
My phone rang, interrupting us.
“Hold on just a sec. It’s your brother.” I got up from the couch to answer. I didn’t feel comfortable talking about Ryder in front of Ryder.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I said.
“Hey, Sloane. I just wanted to let you know that April is out of the woods. She went into early labor and they gave her something to stop it and it finally worked. They’re going to keep her here a few more days to make sure and then she’s going to be on bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy.”
“Oh thank God. That’s so amazing. I’m so happy for all of you.”
“Thanks. How are things going with you?”
“Things are going good. No problems. He’s been a perfect gentleman,” I said, winking at Ryder.
“Are you being sarcastic? It’s really hard to tell right now.” I heard something muffled in the background that sounded like Rory and then there was a childish voice laughing hysterically.
“No, I’m not being sarcastic. We’ve been fine. He made me dinner last night.” It was soup and grilled cheese, but still. It required some skill in the kitchen.
“He did?” Lucah sounded shocked, and I hear Rory say something.
“Look, everything is fine here. We might do some scrimshaw.”
“What?” Lucah said. I grinned at Ryder and he shook his head at me.
“Nothing. Look, you’re busy. We’re fine here. We’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll let you know when we’re coming home.”
“Sounds good. Bye, Lucah. Say hello to Rory for me.”
“I will.” We hung up and I found Ryder staring at me.
“What the hell is scrimshaw?” Ryder said. “I’m seriously curious now.”
~*~*~
Lucah called again that night and said they’d be coming home on Sunday night. April’s mother was coming to stay with them for a while to take care of the girls until they could figure out a solution for the rest of the pregnancy.
The rest of the weekend with Ryder was somewhat uneventful, but it was . . . comfortable. Sweet. Sure, we had a few awkward moments when he accidentally (or so he said) grazed my boob when he went to hand me something, or his hand brushed my ass.
I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy it, and I also couldn’t lie and say I hadn’t pretended to trip so I could grope his arms. For a guy who didn’t work out much (that I knew of), his arms were roped with muscle. He would look so majestic in a flannel shirt and posed on top of a mountain. The beard was just an added bonus.
Sunday afternoon was spent with me drawing new sketches for bridesmaids’ dresses and Ryder criticizing them. I should have been offended, but I wasn’t, so I started making bad designs on purpose.
“Now you’re just being cruel,” he said when I showed him something that looked like it was ripped from a bad 80s prom.
“And if we do it in metallic? How awesome would that be?” I said. He started laughing and snatched the sketchpad away from me, holding it just out of reach.
“Ryder!” I struggled to get to it, but he stood up and held it aloft.
“No. I can’t give this back to you. I think all this fashion power has gone to your head, and you’re mad with it. I’m only doing what’s best for you and for all of us.” His face got serious as he tossed the book from hand to hand. I stopped trying to get it. If I did, things could get really intimate, really fast with all that grabbing.
“Fine, keep it. It’s not like I don’t have a million more of those at my apartment. And you gave back my key.” I gave him a smug smile, but he didn’t give back the sketchpad.
“Shit. I shouldn’t have given you that key back before I made a copy.” He shook his head. I, for one, was glad he no longer had a key. I kept having this nightmare that he’d walk in when I was doing something like clipping my toenails. I didn’t care so much if he saw me naked, but there were a lot of things I did that I didn’t want him to know about.