Forbidden Heir (The Heirs 8)
RYKER
After stopping at the hotel for a change of clothes, I program the GPS, so we don’t accidentally end up on the other side of the country.
It’s an hour's drive to where the tour starts, and every now and then, I steal a glance at Danny. There’s a constant soft smile playing around her lips as she watches the landscape pass us by.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “How are Christopher and Dash’s wedding plans coming along?” I think it’s great that Danny’s brother is marrying my cousin.
Danny turns her face to me. “Good. Everything is pretty much planned.”
“I’m glad they finally got together.” Dash was kidnapped by a deranged ex-boyfriend a month and a half ago. We all lost our minds there for a week or two, but it looks like she’s recovering. The thought sends a wave of anger through me. I don’t know much of the details, but I’m sure Tristan took care of the fucker the same way he took care of the guy who attacked my little sister, Mila.
God, there are some vile men in the world.
I know people question Tristan’s morals, but after all the shit that’s happened, I’ve realized the world needs people like him to take out the trash. That’s why I’ll never judge my best friend, no matter what path he walks in life.
Danny’s features tighten, and she quickly looks back out the window.
“You okay?”
She nods. “Yeah, just a little tired.”
“Take a nap. I’ll wake you when we get there,” I offer.
She lets out a chuckle. “I’m fine.”
Since I saw Danny naked and her response to it, I’ve been on a mission to find out where her head is at.
There’s a moment’s silence, then I ask, “So when are you planning on getting married?”
Danny makes a scoffing sound. “I’m happy with my cat.”
“You have a cat?”
She lets out a chuckle. “Actually, no. Like I have the time to look after an animal.”
Taking a deep breath, I ask, “So no prospective boyfriends?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
Pushing my luck, I ask, “Aren’t you dating?”
Danny turns her face back to me, frowning. “What’s with the twenty questions?”
I try to look casual as I shrug. “Just making conversation.”
“What about you?” she asks. “Have you met your future Mrs. West yet?”
A burst of laughter escapes me. “Yeah, she just doesn’t know it yet,” I joke.
Danny stares at me with an expression of shock. “Are you serious or joking?”
“Joking, of course,” I mutter. “You keep me too busy at work for me to have any kind of relationship.”
“I’m just saving all the women out there. If I give you half a second, you’d probably turn into the playboy of the year,” she grumbles.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Is that how you see me? A playboy?”
She shrugs. “You have the looks.”
My lips curve up. “So, you think I’m attractive?”
Danny glares at me. “Do you really need me to stroke your ego?”
Before I can stop the words, they’re out, “I can think of something else you can stroke.”
Dead silence fills the car for a solid minute before I begin to laugh. “God, that came out wrong.”
“You think?” Danny gasps.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter through my laughter.
She turns her face away from me, staring at the landscape again. After ten long minutes, Danny says, “I was just joking. I don’t think you’re a playboy.”
Yeah? So, what do you think?
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I bite my bottom lip to keep it in.
“I think you’re a solid guy, Ryker. You’ll make someone very happy one day.”
Hopefully, that someone will be you.
Danny wraps her arms around her waist and goes back to staring out the window.
Turning on the radio, I really don’t care what’s playing as long as it gets rid of the awkward silence.
This is what I don’t get. The one minute we’re fine, and the next, she shuts down.
God, it sucks. We’re sitting in the same car, but she might as well be on the other side of the world.
When I finally pull up to where the tour starts, I let out a breath of relief. We get out of the car and stretch our bodies before I walk to the tram that will be stopping at the different farms.
I wait for Danny to get on and take a seat next to her. The sides of our bodies press against each other, and it makes my muscles tighten.
Torture. Sweet fucking torture.
The tram begins to move, and we enjoy the view of rustic stores before the scenery changes to vineyards.
“It’s so pretty. Like a postcard picture,” Danny murmurs, the soft smile back around her lips.
“Yeah,” I whisper, my eyes on her.
We stop at the first farm, and getting off, Danny sticks to my side as we walk toward a barn. Vats of wine are the only décor, and the small group of tourists we’re with gather around a huge wooden table.