His Girl Next Door: The Army Ranger's Return / New York's Finest Rebel / The Girl from Honeysuckle Farm. Trish Wylie
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Jess, because he was leaving?
“How are those burgers coming along?” Jessica asked, breaking the silence.
Steve turned back to the meat, putting his hands up like he was surrendering.
Ryan took another swig of beer.
Maybe staying home with George would have been easier than facing off with the brother.
Jessica went out to Ryan’s car with him. It had been an interesting evening.
The fact it was only nine and the night was over told her it probably hadn’t been that successful. But then she’d pushed her luck hoping it would be.
It had reinforced a few things in her mind, though.
Her brother was an idiot sometimes, but he loved her and did his best to protect her. Even if it annoyed her intensely sometimes, she got it.
The other thing she’d learned was that Ryan was the kind of guy she wished she’d met years ago. Instead of wasting all her time on her idiot ex. Ryan had stood up to her brother with ease, and he was up-front and honest.
Bella had been right. What harm was there in having a little fun with a nice guy, when there was no chance of having her heart broken or breaking his? If he was only here for a short time, they could have a blast, enjoy one another and say goodbye as friends.
They were only a few steps from his car.
Jessica willed her body to cooperate and took a deep breath. She fell back one step and reached for Ryan’s hand, catching his wrist then letting her fingers glide down to his palm as he turned.
“Ryan, stop.”
She registered the surprise in his eyes as he faced her, but she didn’t let herself think about it. She’d been waiting to do this all night, wishing she had the courage. Jess kept hold of his hand and pulled him closer. His body obliged. Then she reached her other hand to cup his cheek, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Jessica …” he murmured against her mouth.
She shook her head. “Just kiss me.”
His lips met hers as if they’d been made to touch. But he only let her feather-light kiss brush him for a moment before he pushed closer to her, deepened their embrace and slipped his hand around her waist, pressing her gently against him.
His hold was tender but his kisses became more insistent, his mouth moving firmly over hers, his breath hot against her skin when he pulled away, before crushing her lips against his again.
Jessica sighed into his mouth, head cloudy, as if she was being swept away on a wave of happiness, floating with the tenderness of his touch and the way he’d responded to her.
“I’m not usually brave enough to do things like that,” she whispered.
Ryan smiled down at her, touched his forehead to hers, still holding her, both his arms around her waist now. He raised a hand and oh, so gently let his fingers skim her face, caress her cheek.
“Well lucky me then, huh?”
When she smiled at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth, he spun her around, one arm tight around her back, then pressed her against the car. Almost rough, but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. That he wouldn’t even think one bruise on her skin was acceptable. And then he was kissing her again. This time harder, more urgently.
Jess let her head dip back as he pressed into her, his body hard against hers, fitted snugly against her shape. She moaned as he left her lips and traced a row of kisses down her neck, stopping with the last touch against the indent of her collarbone.
When he raised his eyes again, held her face with both his hands, she couldn’t help but giggle. A tiny gurgling noise that rose in her throat.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
She smiled then sighed, letting her lower body press into his, as he moved his upper body back slightly to accommodate her.
“It’s just …”
He nodded. “I know.”
She wondered if he did. If he understood how conflicted she felt.
And still they stood there, bodies locked together.
“Can I make it up to you and cook you dinner this weekend?”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “I must be missing something here.”
“What?”
He dropped a kiss to her nose then took a step back. Jess shivered. She hadn’t been ready to let any air between them yet, could have stood like that all night. Against his rock-hard, strong body, and melted against that soft, pillowy mouth of his all evening.
“What do you need to make up to me?” he asked.
“For the way my brother was. The way tonight turned out.”
He caught her hand and traced a finger across her palm. “Believe me, sweetheart, you more than made up for his frostiness.”
Jessica’s entire body felt hot, clammy. She wasn’t used to being so bold, and she certainly wasn’t used to talking about her actions. “He’s, well, protective over me. We lost my sister a few years back, and he’s made it his personal mission to keep me safe.”
She wasn’t lying. The fact they’d lost their sister had made Steven protective. Her ending up with the same cancer had made him worse, spurred his “big bad wolf” routine into action, but keeping that part from Ryan wasn’t the same as not telling the truth.
“I’ve met my share of tough guys, Jess, and your brother doesn’t strike me as anything other than worried about his little sister making a bad choice. He just wants to keep you safe, right?”
She liked the kindness on Ryan’s face, the way he looked so open. It was not how she’d expected him to be. The soldier who’d seemed so tortured on paper was surprisingly unmessed-up in real life. Or else he was just really good at disguising it.
“I still want to make it up to you.”
He grinned. “I’d like that.”
Jessica didn’t know where to look. His eyes were shining at her, suggesting things she wasn’t sure about. Things she might want but maybe wasn’t ready for. Yet.
“So dinner Sunday night?” she offered.
“Yeah.” Ryan squeezed her hand and opened his door. “Maybe you could tell me about your sister.”
Jess felt a shiver trawl her spine, her pulse suddenly thumping. She didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want to tell him how her sister had died, without being able to admit what she’d been through.
It was too close. Still too real for her to open up to him. And if she told him the truth, about her sister dying and then her getting the same disease, he would know she’d been lying all this time. That she’d listened to him talk about his wife, listened to him say he didn’t ever want to be in that position again, and pretended she was fine. When she hadn’t been fine, and still might not be.
“Maybe.”
He didn’t seem put out. Relief washed through her as he casually shrugged. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
She pushed his car door shut when he put down the window.
“Sunday,” she affirmed.
Ryan pulled away slowly from the curb.
She watched him for a moment, then walked back to the house. Even though she felt a little guilty, that she should have just told him from the very beginning what had happened to her last year, about the breast cancer, it was so nice that he didn’t know.
Would he hold her the same if he knew? Or would he think her as breakable as a tiny bird? Would he want her so bad if he knew what she’d been through? Especially when his wife