Unexpected Reality (19 page)

“Time for a break,” I tell them, not tearing my eyes away from Kendall. I can’t. I hear them snicker while their heavy-booted feet carry them out the door. I don’t think either of us takes a breath, waiting for them to leave.

“How was your week?” she asks, breaking eye contact and looking down at the phone in her hands.

I thought about you all week.
“Good. Busy. Just taking it one day at a time.” I don’t know if she meant here at her grandparents’ place or at home with Knox, but I gave her both. I’m exhausted from middle-of-the-night feedings, and work is stressful when it lies on your shoulders and those shoulders are exhausted from the weight of the world. “How about yours? I thought I would’ve seen you around here before now.” Hoped is more like it. I was disappointed when Reagan said she talked to Kendall earlier on Wednesday and she asked her to check in with me about the job. I wanted to call her, text her and demand she ask me herself, telling myself it’s not because I wanted to hear her voice or read her words.

“Same old.”

“You have plans tonight?”
What the fuck am I doing?

“No, I work tomorrow. It’ll be a quiet night in for me.”

I chuckle. “Me too. Little man isn’t much for conversation these days.”

She grins. “He’s adorable. Don’t worry, he’ll be chatting your head off soon enough.”

“That’s what I hear. To hear my parents’ tell it, if I blink I’ll miss him growing up.”

“I’ve heard that.” She looks around the demolished kitchen. “So, things good here? Do you need me for anything?”

Nope, just you.
“We’re good. It looks rough now, but I promise when we’re through it will be magazine-worthy.”

A sad smile crosses her face. “I love this house. The big backyard. I have so many memories of my childhood here. Mom and Dad worked a lot, so I stayed with my grandparents a lot. I’m sad that they’re selling.”

“Great view,” I say, commenting on the backyard that has her rapt attention through the kitchen window.

“I’ll get out of your hair. I have a few errands to run today, and then I’m parking it on the couch with a book.”

She heads toward the door, and I want to reach out for her as she passes and demand she stay here and talk to me. I grip my fists tightly to keep from doing just that. I turn and follow her like a puppy out of the house, not bothering to look at the guys as we head to her car. Instead, I keep my eyes trained on her ass, those long, tanned legs and the gentle sway of her hips.

I should have been paying attention to where I was walking, because she stops suddenly and I barrel into her. My hands land on her hips, keeping her from falling. Keeping her close. She smells incredible, sweet like honey. I rest my chin on the top of her head and soak up the feel of her in my arms. I’m sure any minute now she’s going to pull away from me.

“Ridge,” she whispers.

Instantly, my cock is hard. Her fine ass pressed against me, my name falling from her lips—how the fuck am I supposed to resist that? “Kendall,” I growl, turned the fuck on.

“I-I should go.”

Fuck. I know she’s right; plus, I have work to do. I’m not getting paid to try and fuck the granddaughter of the home owner, but I want to. Oh, how I want to, though. Instead, I bring my mouth next to her ear. “Drive safe, sweet girl.” My lips land on her cheek and then I step away. I have to make myself release her. She doesn’t bolt like I expect her to, just stands stock still, the only movement the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She’s just as affected; her body confirmed it.

I watch as she takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. Turning to look over her shoulder, those baby blues lock on me. “Good-bye, Ridge,” she murmurs.

I don’t get time to reply as she quickly turns around and takes the final few steps to her car. I stand there like a lovesick fool and watch her drive away.

“Break’s over,” one of the guys’ yells—I think it’s Mark.

I’m not ready for their mocking. They’re going to give me shit about this for the rest of the day. I knew that, but it didn’t stop me. There’s just something about her that reels me in. I slowly turn and walk back toward the house, not that getting there any slower is going to prevent what my friends have in store for me.

“You good, man? You need a tissue or something?” Kent asks. He’s trying to keep a straight face.

“Trouble in paradise?” Seth chimes in.

“I bet I can get her to say yes to a date before you can,” Tyler says, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” I warn him.

“She’s fair game, brother. Unless you’re calling dibs,” he fires back.

Yes, I’m fucking calling dibs!
“Can we just agree that she’s not available?”

“Fuck, man. Have you seen her? Why the hell would we let her get away? One of us—” Mark points around the group “—needs to hit that.”

“Not fucking happening.” My voice is low and stern. Not that my friends are the least bit affected. No, the assholes laugh at me.

“One of us has to call dibs for the rest to back off,” Kent states, reminding us of the pact we made years ago.

Mark opens his mouth, “I—”

“Mine,” I spit out, interrupting him. No way will I let them have her; she’s too sweet for any of them. Too sweet for me. They’ve forced my hand, but that doesn’t mean I have to act on it. I called dibs, which means they leave her be.

“Remember, you can’t be messing with anyone else after calling dibs. That happens, she’s up for grabs. And she’s not an ex, so . . .” Seth trails off, but I know what comes next.

Son of a bitch! I forgot that small aspect to the pact. Fuck.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and try to think this through. It’s not like I’m out in the dating pool at the moment, and it won’t be hard to stay away from women in general. I have a newborn son to raise. I’m in so fucking far over my head it’s not even funny. I have too much to learn to let a woman distract me. He’s depending on me.

“Noted,” I finally say. The four of them are wearing matching smirks. Fuckers, they knew what they were doing. “Get your lazy asses back to work.”

They do as I say, but not without riding my ass about my girlfriend.

What the hell did I get myself into?

What the hell was that?
I can still feel his body next to mine, the feel of his lips against my skin. The touch was feather-light, but the impact it had on my body was apparently a lasting impression. I’ve just finished my final errand, having already gone to the bank, the post office, and the grocery store. It’s mid-afternoon and my body is still calling for his. How is that even possible? And that voice, the deep timbre next to me ear. The way he calls me ‘sweet girl.’ Apparently, my body is telling me that taking a hiatus from men is not what it wants. I’ve got to get this attraction for him under control.

Grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of water, I settle on the couch with the remote. I was going to read, but I think it’s wise to watch some TV instead; those book boyfriends of mine remind me too much of Ridge. I need to learn to deal with this . . . whatever it is before I go adding any more fantasies in my head. Then again, who needs the fantasy when I still remember the feel of his chin resting on my head, his hands on my hips . . . Yeah, TV is a much better option.

I settle for getting caught up on episodes of
Lip Sync Battle
on my DVR. No romance there, just laugh-out-loud ridiculousness. I love it.

Hours later, my stomach growls. My DVR selection served its purpose to distract me from Ridge; I feel like I have a better handle on this than before. He’s hot as hell and a nice guy, but I swore off men for a while, and I need to stick to that. After my disastrous relationship with Cal, I need the break. Ridge needs one as well.

I’m in the kitchen making a turkey sandwich when my cell rings. I run into the living room to get it. “Hey, I’m not coming straight home,” Dawn’s voice greets me. “Some of the girls and I are going to grab something to eat. Want to meet us?”

“No, I’m good. I’m actually making a sandwich now.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. I think I’m going to turn in early tonight anyway. I’m having a lazy day.”

“Okay. Well, if you change your mind, we’re going to the Mexican place just down the street from the office.”

“I’m good.”

“All right, see you later.”

I go back to my food, adding lettuce and tomato. My mouth waters and my stomach growls yet again, reminding me I’ve had nothing but junk today. I grab my plate, another bottle of water, and some more chips and head back to the living room. Just as I get settled on the couch, my phone rings again, and I curse the fact that I left it in the kitchen. Setting my plate on the table, I run back to the kitchen and swipe the screen without even looking.

“Hello,” I say breathlessly.

“Kendall?” Reagan’s voice comes over the line. She sounds confused.

“Yeah, sorry. I had to run to get to my phone. What’s up?”

She laughs. “Been there. So, the reason I’m calling—No, wait, I’m on the phone,” she says to someone else. “Sorry about that. Ridge is here to pick Knox up. Anyway, I wanted to invite you and Dawn to the Memorial Day get-together my parents’ have every year. It’s a good time. Dad usually sets off fireworks, because he loves them.” She laughs. “Anyway, there are always a ton of people here, and it would give us the chance to hang out again.”

Ridge will be there. Count me in!
“Sure, that sounds fun. I’ll run it past Dawn, but as far as I know we didn’t have anything going on. Thanks for the invite. What should we bring?”

“Nothing. Mom goes overboard every year, so there’s always way too much food left over. Just bring your swimsuits for the pool or hot tub. Other than that, unless you have a specific drink you want, just bring you.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

“No problem. Okay, I better get off here. Ridge is already taking Knox out to the truck, and I forgot to tell him that his bottles were in the dishwasher. Talk to you soon.” With that, she hangs up.

I shouldn’t be this happy or excited that an old friend from high school invited me to a holiday cookout. I’ve got two weeks to learn how to deal with my body’s reaction to Ridge. Now to just figure out how to do that.

I take my seat on the couch and dive into my dinner. The TV is on, but I have no clue what I’m watching, my mind wandering to earlier today. Maybe it’s not Ridge that’s causing my body to betray me. Maybe I just need to put myself back out there, go on a date.

I finish my sandwich and fight to keep my focus on a Lifetime movie, but I give up after an hour and decide to go to bed. As soon as I slide under the covers, my cell alerts me to a text message. I assume it’s Dawn, letting me know she’s on her way home.

It’s not. It’s Ridge.

I stare at his name on the screen until it goes dark, then hit the Home button again, just so I can make sure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me.

One photo attachment.

What the hell?

I slide my finger across the screen to open his message. It’s a picture of the kitchen. The floor is completely finished, and it looks really good. I save the picture and make a mental note to send it to my grandparents in the morning.

Ping.
Another message.

Ridge: Thought you might want to send them an update.

Me: I do. It looks great.

Ridge: Thanks.

Me: Thanks for the picture. They’re going to love it.

Ridge: You’re welcome.

Me: Good night, Ridge.

Ridge: Good night, sweet girl.