Текст книги "Love Unrehearsed"

Автор книги: Tina Reber

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

He was being ridiculous. I held out my hand. “Come on. Just give it back.”

He shoved his wallet back in his pocket and glared at me. “Do you want to wear that ring?”

“What?” I looked at my hand.

“Do you want to be my wife, yes or no?”

Now he was scaring me. “Of course I want to be your wife, but th—”

“No buts. It’s a yes-or-no question, Taryn.”

I squared my shoulders. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Gah. “Yes, I want to be your wife.”

“Good. Then get over your shit. Got me?”

“Ryan, you know I—”

“Got me?” he yelled louder. “I’m not playing this game anymore, Tar. All this bullshit provides for one hell of a lifestyle so deal with it. I provide. I take care of what’s mine. And if you even so much as breathe on my wallet to get your card so help me God I will tie your ass up, lock you in a fucking room, and play Guns N’ Roses on endless loop.”

I gasped. Now he was fighting dirty. “You wouldn’t . . .”

“Oh no? Try me.”

“You can’t take my cr—”

“Oh no? ‘Welcome to the jungle, baby.’ Over and over again. That what you want?”

I rubbed a fingertip over my cracked lip, cringing. “No.”

“Good, now that we have that settled, why don’t you tell me how this other bullshit got started.”

“I woke up?”

He frowned at me.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. “There wasn’t a huge crowd outside when I left the hotel.”

“And?”

“And . . . when I came back there were hundreds. The police wouldn’t let me enter the hotel without proof of stay. I tried to get closer to the entrance and then I accidentally stepped on some girl’s toe.”

Ryan stared at my incredulously. “A toe. This”—he waved his hand up and down—“all started because you accidentally stepped on some girl’s foot?”

I nodded again, hating how ridiculous this all sounded. “I tried to call you but I forgot about having to put in the country code first.” I hoped my sheepish look was enough to indicate how remorseful I was. “I was trying to squeeze past them and it just happened. Some girls recognized me and asked for my autograph and then someone wanted to take pictures and then I stepped on someone’s foot. I tried to apologize but another girl shoved me and I bumped the girl behind me and . . . well, they shoved me and I shoved back.”

This apparently amused him.

“It’s not funny.”

He wiped his hand over his lips. “I’m not laughing. But I’m glad you defended yourself.”

I chose not to reply. Defending myself was my downfall.

“So are you going to explain how I put up with you or should we just throw more shoes around instead?”

I turned back to him and grumbled, “You threw the first shoe.”

He was unruffled. “I did. And you’re avoiding answering me.”

“Okay, fine. You want to know? Your publicist, your manager—hard to hide the fact that they both despise me. The only one who’s nice is Aaron and I suppose it’s only to keep you happy. I know they all think I got pregnant on purpose.”

I tossed the other black stiletto into my open suitcase, gentler this time. “Taryn, the evil little temptress, out to trap you and steal your millions.” I took a deep breath.

“We both know how you got pregnant, sweetheart,” he said softly. “It may have been an accident instead of something we planned for but it certainly wasn’t intentional. And it was a risk we took together. Besides, if I didn’t want to have kids with you someday I would have been wearing condoms from day one.”

That stopped me dead in my tracks. “I’ve always wondered about that, actually.”

His brow rose. “About?”

“The unprotected day-one part.”

He laughed shyly as if he had his own private joke. His eyes locked on mine. “Tar, I knew that very first day I stumbled into your pub that you were the one. I think I fell in love with you when you were rubbing that shit on my cuts.”

I gasped, shocked by his admission.

Another private thought wisped through him, causing a sly grin to form. “I started to have naughty fantasies about you being the mother of my kids when you were kicking my ass playing pool. By the time we finally hooked up, I honestly didn’t care one way or the other if I knocked you up. Feeling your skin on mine was worth taking the risk. And if getting you pregnant meant that you were tied to me somehow permanently, even better.”

I instantly softened at that. Melted, died, and floated to heaven actually.

He held his arms open, welcoming me. I curled up in his lap and snuggled into his neck, never wanting to let go.

His nose drifted over mine. “You know I want kids, so I couldn’t give two shits about what Marla or anyone else thinks. All I care about are the decisions we make as a couple.”

I brushed my lips on his for a kiss, loving him even more than I thought was possible.

Ryan lounged back and I rested my head on his shoulder. “But,” he said conspiratorially, “back to the Marla thing. I found out earlier today that on the day I proposed to you, Marla caught her husband screwing one of the bartenders from the Chateau in her shower.”

My head popped off his bare chest. “No kidding?”

“I think that explains some things, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it does.”

He combed my long hair back. “Trish wanted to tell you about the email she got this morning but I guess I spoiled all her fun now.”

I envisioned Marla walking into her palatial estate, catching her husband’s wet, naked ass in mid-thrust. Oh to have been a fly on the wall for that one. Still, part of me could relate all too well to that scenario and I actually pitied her.

“Bartender, huh? She probably thinks we’re all sluts.”

“Well, that’s her problem, not ours, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Ryan gently rubbed his hand up and down my back, lulling me into a stupor.

“I just wish David didn’t hate me, too,” I said.

Ryan huffed. “David sees you as a distraction.”

The way he spoke, I could tell that wasn’t all there was to it.

“And?”

“Annnd . . . I really don’t care what he thinks.”

“He’s had it in for me ever since we had that dinner meeting with Follweiler.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like you influencing my career decisions.”

“Maybe I should keep my opinions to myself then.”

Ryan stirred. “No way. Screw that. I want to know what you think. Your views aren’t jaded like his are.

Besides, I know what’s temporary and what’s permanent in my life.”

He shifted me on his lap. “Anything else you want to get off your chest while we’re on a roll?”

I scratched my puffy lip and muttered, “I was arrested today.”

“No, you weren’t, remember? No charges?”

“There will be photos of me getting taken into custody in every paper, Ryan.”

“And you’re expecting me to be mad at you about it?”

“Well, yeah. Not just mad, furious actually.”

“I am mad. I’m freaking furious, but not at you. I’m pissed off that hordes of women prevented you from getting back into the hotel and that you were manhandled and treated like a criminal and injured.

That’s what I’m pissed about.”

I bristled. “You don’t need negative press.”

Ryan shirked it off. “It is what it is. If it bleeds, it leads. This isn’t a scandal, Tar. It will blow away eventually so spending a lot of energy on it is a waste. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Ryan stood up with me in his arms. “Oh, you’re a big lug,” he said. He smiled and kissed me before setting me gently down on the bed. “Hungry? I take it they didn’t feed you in the slammer.”

I frowned at his lame joke, but he was too busy reading the room service menu to notice. “Starving, actually.”

He glanced back at me. “Come to think of it, I am sort of mad at you, though. If you were so desperate to try bondage and handcuffs and shit, all you had to do was ask. I’d be more than happy to go there with you. We have yet to fully explore the depraved side of sex. Hell, we haven’t even scratched the surface.”

Leave it to him to find the humor in it all. Ryan ordered a late lunch and then called the front desk for antibiotic cream and ibuprofen. I was relieved that food was on its way.

I snuggled with a pillow on the bed. “You still need go to your premiere. You know that, right?”

Ryan grabbed his cell. “David, what’s the stylist’s name that’s traveling with Jenna? No, the girl that does makeup. I need you to find her and send her up here.”

After he ended the call, he climbed over the bed to me. I curled up to his chest.

“I know why you’re bent . . . and I don’t care what the papers will say. A week from now it will be forgotten and someone else will wear the target for a day.”

What a relief. “Thank you. I’m glad we can talk things out like this.”

He stared at me for the longest time. I could sense the sadness building. “When I think of the things that could have happened to you, worse than these scratches on your cheek—”

I stilled his lips with my fingers. “Shh. Stop.”

His hand brushed down my side, pausing over my stomach. His eyes scrunched closed and he swallowed hard. “You will always be my first priority, Taryn. Always. Just knowing you were hurt today is killing me.”

I gazed into his eyes. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. I love you so much. But . . . I am not going to add any more fuel to this situation by appearing battle-scarred in public. I won’t . . .”

Visions of thousands of cameras chasing down picture evidence of my wounds scorched my mind. “I will not embarrass you that way. I promise. I’ll be here when you get back. No matter what time that is.”

He frowned. “I don’t think so. Since you insist that I go to the premiere and I absolutely refuse to leave you behind, I guess we have to compromise. I’ll have a separate car take you so you won’t be visible to the general public. I think you know how this works now.”

I nodded.

“You can skip the more public appearances, but you will be with me every other moment tonight. And that, my love, is nonnegotiable.”

Chapter 8

Recover

We had barely parked our luggage in the foyer of our newly rented condo when Ryan began to peel his clothes off. He pulled his T-shirt up, revealing his muscular body and those glorious washboard abs.

My mouth watered, admiring the poetry in motion stalking me like a hungry predator, all chiseled and cut to perfection. No wonder women around the globe practically faint in his presence. He was breathtaking. And all mine.

With a playful smirk he tossed his shirt to the floor, driving me back into the depths of a dimly lit room. Six days had passed since the Paris debacle but the press was unrelenting. I knew his ego was also smarting since Reparation wasn’t pulling in the box-office sales that his team had hoped for. Ryan, however, continued with the pretense of being unfazed by it all.

“Looks like a nice place,” I said jokingly, unable to tear my eyes away from his heated stare. Everything beyond his smoldering blue eyes seemed to blend into a blur of neutral color.

I took a few steps backward, afraid to drop my guard, bumping into a decorative chair along the way.

My backpack slipped off my shoulder and hit the floor.

He nodded once, not caring in the least what the place looked like. “Find the bedroom.”

“Don’t you want to unpack first?”

His gaze was dark and full of lust. “No. Sex first. You have five seconds to get naked or I will rip those clothes right off of you.”

My pulse spiked. “Someone a bit anxious?”

He returned with a salacious smile. “You started this.”

“Uh-uh. You were the one bragging. Think you can best your five orgasms? Not that I doubt your mad skills or anything.”

“Oh, do I have plans for that mouth of yours.” He continued his prowl, stripping his socks with each step. “Three seconds. Lose the clothes, Tar. Now. Or do you want me to leave red fingerprints on your ass?”

“You wouldn’t . . .”

The devil in his glare said oh hell yeah, I would.

“Want to find out?” He prowled, closing the gap. His admonishing tone heated my skin. “You might like it.”

I only managed to get one shoe off while removing my shirt, backing up with every step. My retreat was halted by the couch.

“That’s a good place to start.” Ryan grabbed the front of my jeans and yanked me forward.

“You’re so adorable when you’re flustered,” he murmured, drifting his fingertips down my cheek, softly, reverently. “Let me be the first to welcome you to Vancouver.” He opened my belt, slowly pulling each inch of the leather free from their loops. “We’re gonna have to perform a cavity search, though.

Make sure you didn’t smuggle anything into Canada. I’m going to keep this item in case you need restraining.”

He tucked my belt into the back pocket of his jeans.

My heated pulse jumped another degree.

Zipper down, his hands slid over my rear, fingers curving right into where I burned the most.

He had been toying with me the entire flight, innocently brushing fingertips over my chest, whispering

in my ear all the things he was planning on doing to me. Torturing me into this frenzied state.

His mouth locked on mine, kissing me into oblivion. Nimble fingers unlatched my bra while I shoved his jeans down on his hips, clutching his arousal firmly.

“Enough foreplay. I need to be inside you—now,” he groaned in my mouth.

I used my foot to push his jeans the rest of the way down to this ankles. “What are you waiting for?

Take what’s yours.”

“Plan on it. Just making sure you’re ready for me.” He fell back on the cushions, deftly pulling my legs over his thighs so I was straddling him.

He gasped then groaned when he was fully seated inside. Sinking down on him was shear bliss, like coming home. Cheek to cheek, his hands held my hips, rocking me back and forth as my knees gave us lift.

I sucked the curve of his top lip, lost in his kiss and skillful tongue.

His kiss drifted to my chin, my neck. I cradled his head in my hands when he took my breast into his mouth. I relished his hard tug, melting my entire existence into sensory overload.

In an instant, I was dipped backward, hissing when my skin came in contact with the cold wood of the coffee table.

He withdrew and replaced my sudden emptiness with his mouth and fingers. My back arched, moaning from his touch.

He bit his teeth into my thigh, driving his fingers into me with no mercy in sight.

The moment his tongue returned, I flew apart.

“That’s one.” I felt his smug smile turn into tender kisses on my skin. He pulled me flush to his chest, sucking my neck below my ear. “Five more to go.”

Oh shit. I should have never challenged him.

“Stand up,” he ordered. Ryan pressed his chest to my back, wrapped an arm across my chest, and, with a quick leg lift, pushed back inside me. His other hand snaked down to where we were joined. Holy hell. Standing jackhammered sex. He was on fire, taking me with him into the flame.

He bent me over the couch. Wet fingers started rubbing and pinching over my sensitive skin.

A few more moments of this and I’ll be over the edge again. “Don’t stop,” I ordered breathlessly.

“I’m close,” he growled. “Come with me.”

Knowing I had this man wound so tight he was exploding was my undoing. This one hit harder than the first. On a curse and a gasp, I cried out from the surge of pleasure. He was slamming me so deep, prolonging my mind-blowing orgasm, dangling me on the precipice of pleasurable pain.

His hands dug into my flesh as he found his release, groaning with each pulse.

We ended up collapsed on the couch. Both of us panting and spent. His hand was so soothing, running from the back of my head and down my spine as I lay on top of him.

“This is a comfy couch,” he snickered while tempering his breathing.

I grunted. So was his chest. “I’m ready for a nap.”

“Oh, no. No sleeping. We’re just taking a rest. We still have to test the shower and the bed and that dining table over there. And you still have four more orgasms to achieve.”

I grinned so wide it hurt.

Ryan’s cell rang again. It was still light out but I didn’t care. I was mostly under the covers, naked and entwined around the love of my life, balancing on the edge of bliss and unconsciousness. My entire body felt as if my bones had disappeared somewhere between the fourth and fifth orgasm. He managed to take me to six.

He kissed my forehead. “Are we taking any calls yet?”

I managed a nod. “I’m done.”

“For now,” he added, kissing my hand that was still laced in his.

I wondered if he could feel my eyes roll on his chest.

He fished his cell out of his pants pocket. “That was my mother again. I’ll call her later. I can’t do mom convos after four hours of sex.”

I quickly became acutely aware of how many muscles were needed to muster a tiny laugh.

As he was toggling through his texts, his phone chimed again. “Boy, we’re popular.”

I had turned my phone off earlier; I was surprised he answered his.

“Hi, Marie. No, it’s okay. Wait. Slow down. I can’t understand you.” He sat up suddenly. “Yeah, she’s right here. Hang on.”

The second I heard her voice, the way she said my name, I knew something terrible had happened.

“What’s wrong?”

Marie sniffed. “Hey, listen. I don’t mean to bother you but would you mind if I borrowed your car?”

Odd. “Yeah, sure. Take it if you need it. You know where the keys are. Did your car break down?”

I heard her faint, humorless chuckle. “No. I, uh, no longer have one.”

Ryan was staring at me.

“Gary came here today. He took my car back, Tar.”

I stared back at Ryan. “What do you mean Gary took your car back? Like repossessed it?”

Marie blew her nose and tried to talk through angry tears. “Yep. He said since it’s in his name, it’s his.

Whatever. It was a piece of junk anyway.”

“Why is he being such an ass?” Ryan asked.

I held up a finger for him to wait. “He can’t just take your car, Marie. I don’t care whose name is on it.”

“That’s marital property,” Ryan added.

Desire to kick Gary in the balls was overwhelming. “You need to see an attorney . . . now.”

“I know. I have some calls to make,” she said sadly. “This was the final straw.”

I wanted an answer to Ryan’s question. “Marie, why is he being like this? I mean, he’s becoming spitefully cruel.”

She scoffed. “Tell me about it. Taryn, I saw him with her. I went over to his work to confront him and he was leaning in her damn car. And then I went over to my house to get some of my stuff and my key wouldn’t work. He changed all of the locks on the house, Taryn! He said since I’ve never appreciated anything he’s ever done for me that I can try going without.”

Ryan nodded his chin at me, wanting to know what was going on.

I shook my head adamantly. “Marie, he cannot just lock you out of your own house.”

Ryan’s eyes opened wide with shock from hearing my side of the conversation.

“You know, I’ve been trying to figure it out. Ever since he went out that one night with his bachelor buddies in January, we’ve been fighting. Right after that he started getting mysterious phone calls and texts and shit. Telling me to mind my own business whenever I asked about them. He was never like that, Tar. Never.”

“Did you flat out ask him why he’s being like this?”

“Yeah, I did,” she sighed. “But he never answers the direct question. He just throws it up in my face about how he’s sick of me doing this shit to him, whatever that means. At first I thought it was because we weren’t spending enough time together, but when I am home, he’s out in the garage working on something, ignoring me,” she scoffed. “He’s dredging up shit that happened years ago.”

“Oh man,” I groaned.

“Whatever. Anyway,” she breathed out, sniffing. “Enough about that. How are you? I’ve been really worried about you since you left Paris.”

There was no way I could think of my petty problems. “Do you need me to come home? I’m coming home. You shouldn’t be alone. I’ll see about getting a flight—”

“No you will not,” she said, cutting me off. “You and Ryan need this time together.”

“But—”

“No, I’m good. You stick to the original plan and I’ll see you when you get home in a few weeks,”

Marie insisted.

After we had said our goodbyes, Ryan nudged me, frowning. “How is she holding up?” One look was all I needed to give him. I could barely contain the tears and rage within myself. “He repossessed her car?”

I nodded. “Came into the bar and demanded the keys.”

“I can’t believe Gary’s being such a prick.” Ryan gave me a consoling rub. “Seems out of character.”

“I can. They’ve been fighting and I’m sure she’s said some things she might regret. But now he’s trying to prove a point by stripping away everything he’s ever given her. God, I need to do something. She has the keys to my car so she’s got a way to get around, but still.”

“She needs to hire a good attorney is what she needs to do. He can’t do shit like that. And I tell ya, if he’s fucking around on her, then I want nothing to do with him. You know how I feel about that.”

Ryan snuggled next to me and I rested my head on his shoulder. “I need to go home soon. I can’t strap her with running the pub while her life is crumbling. I want to be with her when she goes to the lawyer.

It’s important to me to be there for her. She’s my best friend.”

He sighed. “I know.” He laced our fingers together. “She’s got my support, too. Whatever she needs.

You know we can afford it. After all, I do owe her a huge debt of gratitude. She helped me see things clearly when I wasn’t.”

I knew just by his expression that he was referring to all that she had done to keep him and me together, even when it seemed that we’d never get over our trust issues. Should I be doing the same for her? Trying to patch things up between her and Gary before they became irreparable? One thing was for sure—I’d pay for an attorney before I’d let Gary do more damage.

“Tar, tell me the truth. The way he’s acting . . . did she cheat on him?”

My head popped off his shoulder. “No. No, never. I suspect it’s the other way around.”

He rubbed my shoulder. “Honey, I know you’re torn up. And I know I’m being a totally selfish bastard when I say this, but I’m not going to lie and say it’s okay for you to run back home right now. I know you want to be there for her but we need this time together.”

“I know. And I’m not running anywhere.”

He gently tugged my chin up. “I don’t want shit like this to ever happen to us. I won’t let our love go there, Tar. I won’t. I swear to God. I told you that you will always come first and I mean that. I want to give you the world and never take it back and I won’t let anything stand in the way of that. But I’m also under contract here. No matter what, I still want to provide for my wife and family.”

I snuggled into his chest. “I know, babe. This is your job and I fully support it. I know where your heart is.”

Ryan’s fingers drifted over my faint scars. “I really want you to know what it’s like to be on set with me. You asked me to help you understand it all and I don’t know of any other way to do that except to have you experience it all.”

I nodded. “I want that, too. But I also know that she’s back there dealing with my bar and going out of her mind at the same time. Of course my only reaction is to want to fix it.” And kill Gary.

“So let Cory run the bar for a couple of days and tell her to come to Vancouver. She probably needs to get the hell out of there anyway. Change of scenery would do her good.”

I pondered that for a moment, wanting to be sure his offer was genuine. “Are you serious?” I had no qualms about closing the bar for a few days, knowing Cory couldn’t handle running the bar by himself.

He’d only been working as a bartender for me for six months.

He nodded and gave me that small, crooked smile of reassurance. “She’s your best friend. She needs you. And I start conditioning training in the morning. You girls can hang out, do girl stuff.”

Gripping his cheek, I kissed him. “Thank you. Your understanding means the world to me.”

His hand locked around my wrist. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“I want to check flights and buy tickets.”

Ryan rolled out from underneath me and playfully pressed my head back into my pillow. “Stay put, love. We have a travel agent at our disposal, remember? I’ll take care of it.”

After everything was arranged he was back in my arms, answering my question of how I could repay his kindness in whispered replies, all of which revolved around orgasms numbered seven and eight. I was so willing to pay up.

The minute I saw Marie in the terminal, her wry smile instantly turned to tears. It had taken some convincing, but I finally got her to agree to come. My heart sank and constricted hard from her misery.

We’d been through so much together, so much loss and heartache and devastation, but our emotional support for one another was unwavering.

Time after time our friendship had been tested, like a battle-worn ship that refused to sink. She’d been my rock when my mom died and my salvation when the guilt and pain had been too much. She held me while I trembled as the paramedics took my father’s body off the floor of the pub and away in an ambulance.

I nearly went out of my mind when she wrapped her car around a tree just nine days after we had graduated from high school; I spent every waking moment thereafter nursing her back to health. I was her maid of honor.

And now, today, we were adding another heartbreaking page to our eternal-friendship history book.

I stroked her long brown hair and hugged her fiercely. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

When Ryan returned later that day after spending his morning being trained to rock climb, he gave Marie a long hug. “You need me to kick his ass for ya? Anything you need, just say the word,” he said softly.

Mike stood off to the side, a case of beer in his hands. He looked like he was sorry for interrupting.

Ryan shrugged. “I thought maybe you ladies would like some time to yourselves, so Mike and I are going to watch the hockey game later, okay?” Like two little boys, they appeared hopeful that they’d get permission.

We sat in the living room with the men when the pizzas arrived. Marie was slowly getting into better spirits; she seemed to be a little more relaxed.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Mike said, almost jumping out of his seat to open a bottle of beer for Marie. If he only knew how many bottles of beer she’d opened by herself in the last umpteen years working behind the bar. His gesture was endearing but almost laughable.

It was around eight thirty when Ryan decided he couldn’t live without salty junk food, so the four of us piled into Mike’s rental. Marie stopped abruptly, gasping in shock when Mike rushed to open the car door for her. Ryan, forever the gentleman, always held my door for me. He always treated me like a lady.

“I don’t need a map. I have the GPS,” Ryan joked from the passenger seat as he fumbled with the in-dash navigation.

“Good thing Mike’s sober or we’d be driving in circles,” Marie teased.

Ryan turned and leered at her. “Hey, don’t talk about my man, Mike. He’s an important part of this mission.”

“Thank God. Lord knows someone’s got to defend you when all those horny housewives try to assault you in the aisles,” Marie joked. “How much you want to bet that someone asks you to autograph their rump roast?”

Mike laughed. “Wait. Does his signature actually have to go on meat or are all groceries included in this bet?”

Marie raised a brow at me. “All groceries,” she clarified. “Why? You seriously want to bet against me?”

“Why yes, darlin’, I believe I do. Women always dig in their purses for paper first,” Mike replied. “I’ll give you a few minutes to think about what you’re willing to lose in this bet. Choose wisely.”

His flirtatious comment surely didn’t go unnoticed in the backseat.

I grabbed a cart before we went into the store, sensing Ryan’s apprehension. He tugged his baseball hat lower, glancing around nervously.

As usual, Mike entered the store first. He did that wherever we went, getting the lay of the land before allowing Ryan entrance. After he did his quick visual sweep of the produce section to make sure the vegetables weren’t staging an attack, he sidled up next to me and bumped my arm. “Jeez, woman. I thought we were here for Doritos. How much do you intend to buy?”

“For how much food you two pack away, I should get two carts. And unless you like wearing the same crusty underwear every day, I suggest you zip it and pick out your favorite fabric softener.” I gave him a playful elbow bump back.

Mike looked aghast. “Did you just threaten me with laundry?”

“Considering that we don’t qualify for on-set laundry services like some people . . . uh, yeah.”

Ryan was already piling the cart with fruit and some cookies that were on display when we first walked in. He frowned at Mike. “There’s no food in our place and if she stops cooking for me because you’re being an ass I’m going to kill you.”

Mike held up his hands in surrender. “You don’t have to tell me twice. If it weren’t for Taryn I’d never get a home-cooked meal and if she’s willing to wash socks for me . . . Consider it shut.”

I grabbed some lettuce. “Marie is a better cook than I am. She can make soup from a stalk of celery and a rock.”

Marie smiled broadly at me. It was one of our private jokes from back in the starving college days.

Ryan waved the pack of cookies in Marie’s direction. “There you go. Get your own cook.”

I took the pack of cookies out of the cart. “Not on the approved diet from your trainer, babe.”

Ryan’s pout was heartbreaking. “No cookies?”

I felt like the mother of an overgrown baby. “No cookies. No doughnuts, either.”

While Ryan glared at me, Mike stealthily gazed at Marie. Our dear bodyguard’s face might have been impassive, but his eyes definitely gave it away that he was considering her, weighing out his options.

Marie had a hell of a figure on her, including the kind of boobs that got women into trouble.

There were several times I wanted to dig into Mike’s business, beyond knowing he spent ten years in

the Marine Corps and was capable of killing someone a hundred different ways with his bare hands, but I never wanted to embarrass him. His love life was something that never came up in conversation. I suppose living on the road like he was was not the most conducive situation to try to maintain a relationship.

The possibility that he could be gay flitted through my brain once, but that quickly dissipated when Mike took a bit of an interest in Trish. That interest, however, was nothing compared to how he was now hanging on to Marie’s every word as if she were the most intriguing woman on the planet.