Battered Not Broken (7 page)

“Sports cars can be dangerous,” Maria said. “I hope he’s not a reckless driver.” But there was no note of conviction in her voice. Any real suspicion she might have harbored toward Ryan had probably evaporated a couple of nights ago when he’d come to Melissa’s aid.

It was a mark of how appreciated his heroics were that Maria was now willing to overlook his tattoos
and
his muscle car, which looked like it was made for speed.

“I’m sure he’s not,” Ally said. He had plenty of self-control in the ring. He wasn’t one of those guys that went half-crazy trying to beat the crap out of their opponent, relying on sheer viciousness and will to win to carry them through the fight. He had skill, and he used it – the right moves at the right time. If he could manage his body and instincts when faced with the possibility of physical harm, surely he could control a car responsibly.

Still, she wondered what it might feel like to speed down an open highway with him, the hum of the car’s engine vibrating throughout every fiber of her being and causing her nerves to buzz as she sat just a foot or two from him, a temporary prisoner of speed.

“Here he comes.” Maria pointed out the obvious and turned, retreating to the kitchen.

Ally unlocked the door and opened it, letting cool air waft in from the porch.

Ryan’s gaze locked on her, causing the overhead porch light to feel more like a spotlight than the single standard bulb it actually was. His blue eyes were as show-stealing as his car, and as she stared into them, a bolt of sensation shot straight through her, every bit as electric as the mustang’s blue paint.

“You look great,” he said, climbing the short flight of steps that led to the porch.

The porch boards were older than she was and shifted ever so slightly beneath her feet, letting her feel the motions of his stride as he approached.

“Thanks.” She’d put more effort into selecting an appropriate outfit than she would’ve cared to admit. Eventually, she’d settled for a pair of flattering jeans, boots and a dark red sweater she liked to think hugged her curves and played up her feminine side. She’d pulled on her favorite jacket over that to ward against the chill. It seemed appropriate for the dinner and movie he’d promised her earlier that day at the gym.

She’d bet a Saturday night’s prize money purse that he hadn’t had to put any effort into looking perfectly masculine. He wore jeans and a black shirt that buttoned up the front. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his forearms. No tattoos there – only hard muscle. He’d foregone a jacket, which allowed her to see the way his shirt clung to his torso, exposing a little notched V of skin at the collar. Funny that the sight of it made her pulse skip even though she saw him shirtless several days a week.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, his voice a powerful purr that reminded her of his car’s engine.

“Let me just grab my handbag.” In the excitement of watching him approach the house, she’d forgotten about it. “Here, step inside so you don’t have to stand out in the cold.”

He accepted her invitation and followed her when she slipped back into the house.

“Good evening, Mrs. Rivera.” His all-male voice resonated throughout the small entry room and kitchen, and he looked larger-than-life standing in front of the doorway.

It had been a long time since their house had contained such an undeniably masculine presence. So long that a pang of something undeniable but pleasant sliced right through the core of Ally’s being. She couldn’t deny that she liked the sight of him standing there, his broad shoulders and even six-foot height putting the house into perspective. It wasn’t a big place, but it had sometimes seemed too large over the past several years.

“Good evening – Ryan, right?” Maria was already back at work in the kitchen, but she paused to greet him.

“That’s right.”

She beamed, showing a wide smile to Melissa’s rescuer. “I’ve heard all about you from Ally and Melissa.”

“I hope they’ve been telling you good things,” he said, returning her smile.

“After what you did for Melissa, there’s nothing they could tell me that would make me think less of you.”

What would Maria have thought if she’d known what Ryan had first said to Ally – the comment he’d made that first day at the gym? Ally mused privately but didn’t say anything. In exchange for her best friend’s safety, she could forgive him for being a flirt. Especially when that quality had an appeal of its own, though she normally didn’t appreciate that trait in men.

A few moments later, Ally was following Ryan out the door.

Up close, the mustang’s various details gleamed, drawing her eye. Like the silver cobra emblem that shone from the side of the car and the way the stark black racing stripes stood out against the car’s vivid blue coat of paint. The word Shelby stood out in raised letters on the hood, just above the grill.

Ryan opened the car’s passenger-side door and held it for her, every bit the gentleman despite his past suggestive comment.

Then he slid into his seat and turned the key in the ignition, bringing the car to life with a subdued mechanical roar.

“I thought we could try out an Italian place I’ve heard of,” he said. “Does that sound good to you?”

“It sounds great.” It did, but her mind wasn’t on food as he pulled away from the curb and started down the street. Riding away with him wasn’t like leaving on any of the other admittedly few dates she’d been on. Like she’d told him, she didn’t date strangers. Which meant that most of the men she’d felt comfortable enough to date in the past were people she’d known for a while – long-time acquaintances, friends of friends.

But a consequence of knowing those guys so well had been that she’d felt more friendly toward them than romantically attracted. She’d felt comfortable in their presence, reasonably safe – but there had been no spark of attraction, no unexplainable heat when she’d met their eyes.

Being around Ryan was a different story altogether. She was ever-aware of how his body was positioned and where his gaze was lingering. And she was a constant mess of flushing cheeks, deviant thoughts and belly-butterflies. She’d tried to ignore the deliciously-exhilarating feelings at first, knowing she’d probably never exchange more than a few words at the gym with him.

But now… Giving herself permission to indulge in the thrill of being the center of his attention was a pleasure in and of itself.

They rode to the tune of rock music turned down low enough to allow conversation. She couldn’t make out the lyrics to any of the songs, only the guitar riffs and drum beats that all seemed to pulse in time with her heart.

“So is it just you and your mother,” he asked, “or do you have other family members living at home too?”

“Just me and my mother.” She would have asked him a similar question, only she remembered him saying he lived alone.

“I thought so.”

She turned to study his face, searching for any clue as to why he’d automatically assumed she lived alone with her mother. It wasn’t like he knew anything about the circumstances that had torn half the Rivera family from the little white house. Unless Melissa had told him…

No. It was ridiculous to even consider that she’d mention it to him.

“The house looked too clean to have any male inhabitants.” He flashed her a grin. “Plus, there were only women’s shoes and coats by the door.”

“Should I take that to mean that your place is a mess?” His car was clean – conspicuously clean. He didn’t seem like someone who’d live in a pig-sty.

“My place is … Spartan. I don’t have too many belongings, so it doesn’t get very messy.”

“Seems like a good strategy.”

He shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a predatory grace that was reminiscent of his skill in the ring. “Works for me.”

Did he realize he moved like that all the time – like he was constantly primed for putting his gorgeous body to hard use, like combat, or maybe something just as intense but decidedly less violent…

“This is a beautiful car,” she said, doing her best to crush that train of thought. “Are you sure you build roofs for a living?” His hard body said that he was used to physical labor, both inside and outside the gym. But the vehicle looked and moved like something way out of a manual laborer’s price range. Maybe it was a rude question, but it wasn’t as rude as the thoughts that were plaguing her – thoughts of how it might feel to be sandwiched between his body and one of the leather seats.

Definitely not the sort of thing she’d ever thought about on a first date before.

The way he smiled made it seem like he didn’t mind her question. “It’s my one indulgence. I’m glad you like it – you have good taste.”

He diverted his gaze from the road to her for just a moment, and the gleam visible in his eyes forced her to wonder whether he’d read her mind.

Ridiculous, but she couldn’t shake the notion that their thoughts were on the same deviant page. Beneath her sweater, her nipples tightened, pricking against the cups of her bra. No one had ever done that to her with just a look before – a fact she was extremely aware of as he guided the car around a turn.

“I’ve never seen this car around the gym,” she said. Maybe small talk would distract her from the little shivers that kept racing down her spine. “I wasn’t sure who’d arrived when you pulled up in front of the house.”

“It was in the shop for a week. I walked almost everywhere while it was being repaired. Just got it back.”

“That’s lucky. Not about your car being damaged – that you were walking. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been there to help Melissa.”

He nodded, the seductive gleam gone from his eyes. “It was worth all the walking – I hate to think what might’ve happened if no one had been there.” He drove in silence for half a moment, then the gleam returned to his eyes. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have agreed to this date if I hadn’t helped your friend.”

A slight flush of self-consciousness colored her cheeks. It wasn’t like she could deny what he’d said – it was the truth. “I like to know I can trust someone before I go out with them.”

“You trust me?”

“Enough to go to dinner and a movie with you.”

“That’s a start.” He pulled the car into a parking lot in front of a red brick building, killing the engine. “Here we are.”

Bright yellow light spilled out of the restaurant’s wide front windows, making the inside look warm and inviting. It was a relief to see that the place was casual enough for her jeans and sweater, though it was unlikely that anyone would notice her, let alone her clothing, when she was standing beside Ryan.

 She followed him through the door, feeling warm inside his shadow.

The hostess looked twice at Ryan before seating them. Who wouldn’t?

When they were settled at their table, Ally propped a menu open on the red and white checkered tablecloth and pretended to study it. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No,” he said, opening his own menu. “A co-worker of mine told me about this place.”

She made an honest effort to read the menu’s offerings and dish descriptions, but the words seemed to jumble together, becoming one big Italian blur. When the waitress arrived, she ordered the chicken parmesan out of sheer habit.

“How about a bottle of wine?” Ryan asked after placing his own order.

“Okay,” Ally agreed, her mouth watering at the thought of something rich and red sliding over her taste buds and warming her from the inside.

He ordered a bottle of Chianti Riserva.

Ally was no wine connoisseur and was a little surprised that he was able to order after a quick glance at the restaurant’s wine menu, but the way the words rolled off his tongue convinced her that his selection would be delicious.