Adios Pantalones (Fisher Brothers 3)

“But he damaged your car. He can’t just get away with damaging your personal property.” I sounded like a lunatic, my words contradicting what my brain already knew. Of course Derek could get away with damaging personal property. I’d just told Ryan earlier that Derek could get away with virtually anything.

“We don’t have any proof it was him.” Ryan sighed, calmer than he should have been under the circumstances. “The police would need proof in order to do their job. We don’t have any.”

“I’m so sorry,” I choked out, shame and embarrassment tightening my throat. I felt like this was all my fault, even though logically none of it was. I didn’t control Derek, but if you took me out of the equation, there would be no Derek in Ryan’s life. And if there were no Derek, Ryan’s windshield would still be intact.

Ryan took my hand, squeezing it to reassure me. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t make this happen.”

“But I’m still sorry. This never would have happened to your car if it wasn’t for me.”

“You didn’t do this,” he said again, this time more forcefully.

“But it’s because of me—”

He placed two fingers on my mouth, immediately quieting me. “It’s not your fault. And it’s just a car. I’ll get it fixed. It’s not a big deal.”

I flung myself into Ryan’s chest, wrapping my arms around him, and he held me tight. He rubbed his hands up and down the length of my back, molding his body to mine.

God, he felt good, and I knew he felt the same way. My hips pressed against his hard-on, and I had to force myself to stop before we got too carried away. I needed to go get Matson, and Ryan was one hell of a distraction.

As I pulled away from his warm, hard body, a stark realization hit me. “I guess he knows where I live.” I tried to sound not bothered by that truth, but I was concerned. The work information I’d easily accepted, but this was something else entirely, a violation of my privacy that took more effort than a couple of clicks on a keyboard.

The bungalow I rented wasn’t in my name, and there was no way of associating me with it on any legal forms that could be found in the courts or online. The only way Derek could have gotten this information was to have me followed.

My stomach churned with the realization that my safe haven was no longer safe.

It was funny the things you became aware of once they were stripped away. Like how I’d never thought twice about my safety here, living here as a single mom—until now. The bungalow had been the perfect home for us, but now it felt exposed. As if its windows and doors had disappeared, and anyone could see in anytime they wanted.

“I think he always has,” Ryan said, his voice calmer than I could stand in the moment.

My body trembled as my mind raced, all my thoughts converging on one overriding question. Are Matson and I safe here, living alone?

“You think he’s always known?” I clutched my stomach, willing it not to empty its contents from dinner onto the sidewalk. “Why would you say that?” I shifted my weight from foot to foot, trying to distract my guts from betraying me.

“Just a hunch.” Ryan stepped closer, placing his hand on my cheek to calm me. “But even you said he has the means to find out whatever he wants to, Sofia. He found out where you worked. Of course he’d want to know where you live.”

“He went to my mom’s first. He thought I still lived there,” I said, remembering my mom tel

ling me about that unsettling encounter. “Then he demanded to know where I was.”

“I assume she didn’t tell him?” His thumb drew patterns on my cheek, an attempt at calming me that clearly wasn’t working.

“Of course not.” Then the realization dawned on me. Derek would never accept simply not knowing.

“So he found out on his own. That seems to fit his personality. Any idea what he wants? He hasn’t told you, right?”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, speaking numbly without thinking. “Other than him saying that he wanted to see Matson that day at the beach. That was the most we’ve talked in eight years. He keeps showing up places, but he never says anything.”

Ryan stiffened and dropped his hand from my face. In an instant, I realized the mistake I’d made.

“He keeps what? Showing up where?” Ryan took a step back before looking deep into my eyes, questioning me. “Sofia.” He blew out a harsh breath, his jaw ticking. “I knew you were keeping something from me whenever I asked you on the phone, but I thought I was just being paranoid. I thought I was being crazy.”

I had no idea that Ryan had been beating himself up over the questions he asked me. The very questions I’d evaded and then lied about, knowing I could only lie to him on the phone because he knew exactly when I wasn’t telling the truth in person.

“I’m sorry. He showed up in the parking garage at my office the other night. When I left work, he was just standing there by my car. It’s a private garage, Ryan. I don’t know how he even got in. He didn’t say anything, though. He was just . . . just standing there, watching me.”

Ryan reached for my chin and forced me to look up into his eyes, now the darkest blue I’d ever seen them. “You can’t keep this stuff from me. Not anymore. I know what we have between us is new, but if you feel anything like I do, then you know that this,” he waved a finger between us, “isn’t going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”

My eyes blurred and I blinked hard. I wanted to believe every single thing that Ryan said to me, but I was scared. Scared that he was too good to be true. Scared that he didn’t really know what he was getting himself into. Scared to give him my heart, just for him to discard it when he realized I wasn’t worth all the drama.