Jill Shalvis: Roughing It With Ryan

“I know,” Taylor said, her voice husky with exhaustion. “I’m cash poor and asset rich. Stupid, huh? I could sell this stuff and get rid of the nation’s debt.” She looked around, a sadness in her eyes that said there was far more to her story than she’d let on. “After spending so much time searching and buying it all…I just can’t. I love the pieces too much.” She shrugged off the melancholy and shoved what looked like very expensive, very silk pajamas into Suzanne’s hands. “Here, take these things and help yourself to a hot shower. Or I could draw you a bubble bath, if you’d rather.”

“Oh, no, I-”

“And while you’re soaking, I’ll fix you a snack-”

“Taylor-”

“Do you like cheese and crackers? I have some wine-”

“Taylor.” She smiled into Taylor’s pensive features. “I’m okay. Really. I’m not going to sue you or anything.”

Surprising her, Taylor suddenly sagged a little, then grabbed Suzanne close in a fierce bear hug that sucked the oxygen right out of her. “Do you think I care about money?” she asked in a horrified whisper. “My God, you’re my friend and my attempts at cost-cutting nearly got you killed tonight.”

A little flustered, Suzanne pulled back. “Friend?”

“We bonded over our singlehood together, didn’t we? Do you think I do that with just anyone?” Abruptly, Taylor turned away. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared out into the dark, stormy night. “I’m so sorry, Suzanne. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened tonight, for what could have happened.”

“But I’m okay. Taylor, look at me.” Suzanne held out her arms, still wearing Ryan’s shirt. It smelled like him, and for a moment she remembered exactly what it had felt like to be held by the man who owned that delicious one-hundred-percent male scent. “Not a scratch on me.”

“Are you going to leave?”

“Well…it might be hard to live in a loft without a roof.”

“You can take the apartment next to mine.”

“That’s very sweet, but these units are twice as big.

I’m sure I can’t afford it.”

“You can, because I’m going to give it to you for the same price as the loft. This month free of course, as reimbursement for what happened tonight. Please Suzanne, please stay.”

The thought of finding another place exhausted her, but she felt as if she was taking advantage of the situation. “Taylor-”

“It’s important to me. Already you’re important to me.”

It had been a very long time since someone had wanted her around, really wanted her around. Oh, her family loved her, she was certain. But they didn’t show love easily, if at all. And lately, true to Carter form, she’d followed suit, drifting from one relationship to another, making sure to ruin the men emotionally before she got too attached.

This strange bond with Taylor threw her because of its immediate depth, and yet it made her feel good at the same time. “Thank you,” she said simply.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a thank God, yes, I want to stay.” Suzanne let out a sheepish smile. “I don’t really care to see how warm I can get my car right now.”

Taylor let out a grateful smile, then bustled Suzanne into the shower.

BY THE TIME Suzanne stepped out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, there was hot cocoa waiting.

“Don’t get used to this,” Taylor warned. “I’m far more used to being served than being the server.” She slipped into one side of the bed, leaving Suzanne with enough room on her side for a small army.

Climbing into bed required the last of her depleted energy. She pulled up the silky sheets and weighty blanket, grateful for the warmth. “It would be a shame to sell this bed. It’s so luxurious.”

“I know, but with it, and all the other antiques I have in storage, I could start the renovations.”

“Wow, that’s terrific.” Suzanne felt awed by the collector’s spirit, something she’d never personally experienced. Somehow her lifestyle to date made it easier to travel light.

“It’s been a terribly expensive hobby,” Taylor admitted, fluffing her pillows. “And one I can no longer afford, obviously. But no worries. First thing tomorrow we’ll get you down from the loft and into the apartment next door. Then after Ryan is done with the tree extraction, I’ll start on everything else. I’ll need an architect, a contractor-”

“Ryan.” Just the sound of his name had Suzanne wide awake again. She’d never again think of him as just the Gorgeous Crazy Tree Guy. He’d become her hero. And as such, a man to avoid at all costs. He was tempting enough to make her forget her vow to remain single and she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she destroyed her hero like she’d destroyed her ex-fiancés. “He’s going to be around then?”

“All week, I imagine, getting that tree out and the others down.”

All week. Would he talk to her in that voice of his, the one that said she was the only woman he saw? Would he touch her with those warm, sure hands? Or better yet, would he lean in and put that incredible mouth back on hers…?

Oh, boy, there it went again, her vivid imagination. She didn’t want this inexplicable attraction. No sirree. She didn’t need anyone or anything but herself and her chef job.

No matter how much her tingly nipples told her otherwise.

IT HAD BEEN JUST A KISS.

That’s what Ryan told himself. All night long.

But he wouldn’t have felt “just a kiss” from his head to his toes.

And let’s not forget all the hot spots in between.

Sure, there were plenty of logical reasons for the almost chemical-like attraction between himself and Suzanne, two perfect strangers. For one, the situation itself had been terrifying. Obviously, that had played a big role in what had happened between the two of them up there in that loft, trapped alone on a dark, stormy night.

But somehow he knew, deep in his gut, the instant connection he’d felt with her couldn’t be blamed on the events of the evening. Nor could the way he would have done anything- anything -just to keep her safe.

Unrested, and oddly driven to see her again in the light of day, he woke his crew at dawn. Not difficult as they were crashed on his couch.

When he flipped on the lights in the living room, Russ groaned and buried his face into the couch cushion. “Five more minutes, Mom.”

Mom had been gone for seven years. In fact, it had been Ryan to wake up his younger brothers for school every morning since, and still, no matter how much time went by, Russ, not a morning person, always talked to Mom first.

Ryan hauled the blankets off the nineteen-year-old, and did the same to Russ’s twin, Rafe, who’d some time in the night fallen to the floor and stayed there.

“There’s hot oatmeal and coffee,” he told them.

“Hurry, we’ve got a full day ahead.”

“We just went to bed,” Rafe whined.

“And now we’re getting up.”

“Donuts would be better.” Rafe stumbled to the bathroom. After a moment he poked his head back out. “We saving any pretty redheads today?”

Ryan kicked the already back-to-sleep Russ’s feet off the couch. “The only thing in your future today is a tree. A big tree. Our white knightship is over.”

“Ah, man.” Russ sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face, then suddenly brightened. “Hey! Don’t wear a shirt today, just in case.”

“In case what?”

“In case the pretty redhead decides to get wet in a tank and panties again.” Russ grinned wickedly. “If you don’t have a shirt to give her, then…” His eyebrows jerked up and down suggestively.

Ryan hauled the covers off him. “Get up, you pervert.” He strode toward the kitchen. “And as for making fun of last night, she could have died up there in that loft.”