Chasing Mr. Wrong (Chasing Love 4)

“I like the Ryder I met the other night,” she whispered close to his face. “The one that smacked my ass and made me come hard.” She glanced at his mouth, remembering what it had been like to hold him inside her, then she looked back at his eyes. “Can that naughty Ryder come out to play? Or do you have him locked up somewhere?”

“You have no idea what you’re messing with, little girl.”

Oooh! There it was! That sexy, raspy dominance she’d heard the other night.

“I’m very aware of what I’m messing with. The question is…are you?”

He looked her over, hard. She rose to stand, then turned on her heel to get back to the other customers.

But not before she slapped a menu down in front of him and said, “Let me know when you’ve made up your mind on what you want.”

Chapter Five

What. The. Hell?

If Ryder hadn’t been sure, he was now: Whitney was toying with him. Either that or she was the ballsiest woman he’d ever met. And heaven help him, he was ready to take the bait of all the sinful promise those dark eyes held.

She didn’t want what he was offering. That stung a tad. Until he thought more about it and realized that she didn’t want the side of him that most women wanted. She wasn’t looking for safe, stable, or secure. And she sure as hell didn’t want his money.

She wanted the animal he’d unleashed the other night. That side of him no one ever saw. The passion that was bubbling inside him. But Ryder didn’t know what to do. Because if he gave in, he’d be right back where he started.

He needed to maintain control.

Prove that he could handle himself and not give in to the wild Whitney.

She already was clouding his judgment, making him hum with the need to play her game and rise to the challenge she’d laid out there. The way she swung her hips a little extra when he was around, like she knew he was watching, made his dick strain against his jeans. Because every red-blooded man in the diner tonight had noticed her, and whatever hesitation he might feel about going after her again, he’d be damned if he let another man touch her.

Except he couldn’t expect her to stay celibate if he wasn’t offering her the person she most wanted.

Him.

So he sat there, beer in hand, waiting for her to come back. Fuckin’ brilliant plan.

Keep. Calm.

He would, damn it. He could outlast Whitney’s sexy smiles and sinful swishes. When she removed the rag from her shorts again, her tight shirt shifted, and he caught the briefest sight of her midriff. He remembered instantly how perfectly his hands fit around that trim waist, where her ribs curved into her hips. Right, dead center. He could clamp her in his hands, lift her, position her over his cock—

“Well, hello there, stranger,” a lyrical voice rang out. Ryder looked over his shoulder, and standing next to him in a bright yellow dress, beaming like the damn sun, was Clara Davenport.

“Hello, Clara, You look lovely.”

“Aw.” She patted his chest.

He rose to offer his seat to her. Much as he wished she’d leave him alone, he couldn’t afford to be anything less than polite to her, not when he had so much work riding on her father’s good favor.

She took his seat, shimmying a little, and put her yellow mini purse on the bar.

“My daddy says the old hall is coming along. I can’t wait for the grand opening.”

Ryder nodded. Milton Davenport was not only Clara’s father, but a member of one of the early families of the area. Judge Davenport had been friends with Ryder’s grandfather, so it had been natural for the two families to mingle. Ryder had grown up with Clara, even dated her in high school. But they were grown now, and while Clara’s family had money, and she appeared to radiate sunshine, he knew she was a lot colder and meaner than most. The woman held a sense of entitlement like a blue ribbon.

“It’s coming along,” he said. He’d been working long days on that hall, pausing only to catch a few hours of sleep or to work on other odd jobs around town whenever someone asked. The big money that summer—and beyond, if Davenport found him worthy—was coming from renovating the Davenport Hall, but Ryder couldn’t refuse anyone who needed his help. It wasn’t just his duty as a Diamond. He genuinely loved this town and its people, and he would do anything to hold it together.

“I’ve been slaving away planning the event of the year,” she said, and did some kind of jazzy flick of her hands. “I still don’t have a date for the party.” She spun on the barstool a tad to face him.

Ryder gave a tight smile. She’d dropped hints several times about attending the grand opening with him. He had evaded and given the nicest “no” he could without pissing her off. No sense in rocking the boat with the daughter of the man his livelihood depended on. If Davenport chose to spread word that Ryder or his business was lacking in any way, that could harm future jobs, not just from Davenport, but others who listened to his opinion. And a surefire way to piss off Davenport was to piss off his one and only daughter.

“I’m just focusing on the job right now. You should have no problem finding a date, Clara.” He took a drink of his beer.