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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better. George had gone a little quiet on him after they’d bumped into Jess, but they’d had fun, hung out and started to get to know one another again.
And now he had something else to look forward to. An entire evening with Jess, at her place.
He grinned to himself as he drove. Even though he had his arm resting on the open window ledge, and it was throbbing with a hint of pain, he didn’t care. There were too many good things going on his life to worry about something he had no control over. His physio had told him he was progressing well, there were no indications of it being a long-term problem, not after the surgery going so well, and he just needed to keep up his exercises.
So having fun with his son, and with a woman like Jessica, was something he could enjoy before he had to go back to work. As hard as it would be to return this time, he was looking forward to being with the guys again, and now that he’d decided it would be his last tour, he had to make the most of being back with his unit.
Ryan pulled onto her street.
He didn’t know what exactly it was about her, but something about spending time with Jessica felt so right. After his wife had died, he’d never wanted to be close to another woman again. Never wanted to feel so helpless again, so weak. And until recently he’d thought he’d feel like that for the rest of his life.
But Jessica was quickly changing his feelings. He didn’t know what she wanted, if she felt the same way as he did, but this was starting to feel real. Part of him wanted to take it slow, to stay as friends yet something more, but then he also wanted to make things happen more quickly. To make the most of his time back home and see if something special could happen between them.
Because in the span of a week, Jessica had gone from pen pal and good friend, to meaning a whole lot more to him than any other woman had since his wife.
And he liked it. Liked the way she made him feel, the effect she had on him. Whether she felt the same was another matter entirely, but from the way she’d kissed him the other night, he liked to think he could hope.
More than hope.
He liked to think he was in with a real chance.
If he was going to be coming back for good soon, then maybe that meant a chance at a future together.
Jessica fluffed around in the kitchen, knowing she had no purpose, yet not being able to stop herself from moving. It was just a casual dinner at her place, not exactly some grand dinner party, but she was like a ball of wool writhing to untangle. On edge.
She’d put together a simple pasta dish, lots of fresh ingredients tossed with olive oil and lemon juice in a pan, so there was hardly anything culinary to worry about. And dessert was a cake she’d made earlier in the day, but she still felt panicky.
The knock at the door came while she was eyeing up her glass of wine and deciding whether or not to drain it for courage. She was leaning on the counter, staring at it.
Jessica turned away from the glass. She didn’t ever drink more than a couple of glasses, and the last thing she needed was to make a fool of herself.
“Come in!” she called, hoping Ryan would hear her.
Hercules went bounding down the hall and a second later the door clicked.
Jess took a deep breath, ran her hands down her jeans, then stepped out to greet him. This was ridiculous. She’d seen Ryan a handful of times now. First-time nerves were one thing, but there was nothing to panic about tonight.
“Hi, Ryan.”
He was crouched down giving Herc a scratch. When he looked up she temporarily lost the ability to move. His eyes locked on hers, bright blue, serious yet laughing, drawing her in as if she’d never be let back out again.
“Hi.” He stood and they both watched as Hercules took off down the hall again. “You look great.”
Jess looked down and felt awkward. She was only wearing jeans, an embellished T-shirt that dressed her outfit up and a pair of heels. Her cheeks were flushed, she could feel the heat in them—and her hands could have been shaking. She was so off balance she wasn’t even sure.
She went to turn down the hall, but he stopped her with a hand to her wrist.
“Hey.”
When she turned Ryan took a step forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek before putting space between them again.
“You act like no one ever gave you a compliment before.”
His voice was low, almost a whisper, and it made a shiver lick its way down her spine. She swallowed, hard.
“I’m not.”
The last compliments she’d had had been from a man who told her what he thought she wanted to hear, but there’d never been any substance to his words. The reason she was embarrassed now was because from the look on his face, Ryan meant what he said.
“I don’t say what I don’t mean,” he assured her.
She didn’t doubt that. “I know, it’s just …”
“Jess?”
She felt uncomfortable being scrutinized.
“I find you not receiving compliments by the bucket-load hard to swallow,” he said. Ryan tucked his fingers beneath her chin and smiled down at her, his eyes locked on hers, body so close. “You look beautiful tonight and you need to believe it.”
Jessica fought against the urge to pull away from him. Instead of giving in to her instincts she made herself smile, forced herself to behave like the grown-up woman she was. “Thanks,” she whispered.
He grinned and let his fingers fall from her skin. “Much better.”
She turned before he had the chance to do anything else. She was nervous, scared.
Exhilarated.
So much for telling herself this was going to be a casual dinner with a friend, that there was no need to panic. She doubted there was much friend left in the equation between her and Ryan anymore. Part of her had hoped he would want more, and the other part told her that friend was as good as it got. Even after their kisses.
Now she wasn’t so sure she was ready for the something more.
Ryan was a hot-blooded male who had suddenly, just from looking at her, from touching her, made his intent very clear.
The way her body was reacting told her she felt the same, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.
Maybe that glass of wine hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.
Jessica didn’t taste a mouthful of her food. She opened her mouth, forked spaghetti in delicate twirls and forced herself to swallow. But the only sense she had was of the man sitting across from her.
She’d forgotten everything else. Had no control over her other senses. Or maybe she did and they were too overloaded on Ryan. She was drunk on the sight of him, the feel of him, the look of him.
The taste of him.
She remembered only too well what his lips felt like on hers, how her body had felt when she was tucked against him, wrapped in his embrace. And after the way he’d touched her in the hall before, the way he felt had been the only thing she’d thought about since.
“This is great.”
At least Ryan seemed to be enjoying the food.
Jessica took another sip of wine. She was going to tell him not to be silly but she remembered only too well what he’d said earlier about taking a compliment.
“Thanks.”
She wished she could say more, could come up with something more savvy and chic, but her brain just wasn’t cooperating. Her tongue was swollen like it was bee-stung, not letting her communicate properly.
It was stupid. She was