“Wait,” Ryan said. “You wrote that article?”
“Oh, ah, yeah,” she said. “My boss forced me to cover the story, and I agreed as long as no one, not even the staff at the paper, knew who’d penned it. He had a tip that there was a cover-up going on, but I haven’t found anything to support that. But this…this is big. Why would that soldier’s wife visit the mayor?”
“What happened to wanting out of politics? Starting a new life?”
“You’re right,” she said. “Absolutely right. I guess car-racing just isn’t overly exciting. I need to find something that is. Not that I’m complaining. It’s a doorway to the next venue, when I figure out what that is, and I am so very grateful for that.” The subject of her past jogged her memory, reminding her about what Ryan had said in the bar. “Ryan. About that night at my apartment…”
“It’s the past,” he said quickly, too quickly, but gently. Without any hint of tension. “Leave it there. Isn’t that what we were just talking about? Moving on?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But I need you to know I wanted you because of you. Because of what you make me feel.”
His eyes glinted with interest. “Which is what?”
She thought about the stairwell, the mud mask, him holding her hair while she threw up. “Like I can be me and you won’t judge me. I worry enough about things like last night getting into the news. Or used against my father. But you, Ryan…you just let me be me, even when that me isn’t so spectacular.”
Seconds ticked by, his expression indecipherable, before he said, “I’m glad.” He eyed the watch on his arm, a Swiss Army brand which looked masculine and right on him. He picked up the plates and turned to the sink. “Caleb’s going to be here in ten minutes. I need to get moving.”
Sabrina stared at his back, trying to figure out what she’d said wrong, because it was obvious she had.
She scooted off the chair and walked to the tiny kitchen to stand next to him. “I’ll wash the dishes,” she offered. “You cooked.”
He turned to her and neither of them spoke, a hint of tension crackling around them. “Sabrina,” he said.
“Yes?” she asked, hanging on his words, hoping to understand what had shifted his mood.
But he said nothing, seeming to change his mind. He reached for her. The kiss that followed was a silky caress of tongue against tongue, full of dark emotion and hunger. She raised up on her toes, arched into him. When finally it was over, she panted with need. His hands rested on her waist, teasing her with where else they might go.
“Thank you on the dishes,” he said.
“If that kiss was my thank-you,” she whispered, “I’ll make a habit of doing your dishes.”
“I can think of better things than dishes to barter with,” he assured her. “I’ll demonstrate tonight.” He released her, and she ached to pull him back to her.
“Here are my keys,” he said, fishing them from his pocket. “And my cell.” He opened a drawer and scribbled a number. “That’s the Hotzone. Call me there if you need me. I’m off at four.”
After he was gone, she sat on the end of his bed eyeing the tiny hotel room. Wondering why he had chosen to stay here instead of renting an apartment for six months to a year. She vowed to help him find his perfect home, the way he was helping her find herself.
Inhaling, she drew in the delicious scent of his cologne and fell back on his bed. He was nothing like the men of her past. Change was good. It was really good.
***
“SINCE I ALMOST got my ass beat for dancing with this chick,” Caleb said, on the drive from the hotel to the Hotzone, “I’m assuming it’s pretty serious.”
Ryan scowled at Caleb from the passenger’s seat. “I didn’t almost beat your ass.”
“You acted like you were about to rip my head off my shoulders,” he said. “And you know, it’s cool an’ all. You didn’t, which, in the end, is what counts. So what’s the story?”
“It’s a good time,” Ryan said. “Nothing more.”
“Not buying that one. You gave her your truck, your cell phone and you left her alone in your house.”
“It’s a hotel room,” Ryan stated. “I hardly think that means anything.”
Caleb pulled to a stop at a red light and gave Ryan a keen inspection. “Ryan, after the way you behaved last night, you really expect me to believe this chick is riding around in your truck while you’re just taking her for a ride?”
Ryan clamped a hand over his jaw a moment, and considered denial, which turned into a confession. “It’s more like she’s taking me for a ride.”
“She seems pretty into you, man,” Caleb observed.