Addison intrigued him. Now he wanted to reconnect with her in ways that had less to do with his physical attraction, and a whole lot to do with his fascination about figuring out what made her tick. He couldn’t wait to see what her clever mind had in store for him.
Her brilliant mind and her sexy body hadn’t made sleeping down the hall from her throughout the weekend easy. Hell, he figured he had a serious case of deadly sperm build up, too. But their arrangement would remain strictly professional per her orders. Still, he couldn’t resist trying to get the fun girl he once knew, albeit a shy one, to emerge from her self-made corporate ice shell.
“One where you’re not riding anything other than a bike for three months. Community service, but that’ll be good for our publicity campaign. Visits to hospitals, schools, talking about being a responsible driver.” Addison ticked her left index finger with her right one while she rattled off the details. “First visit is tomorrow. I’ll drive.”
He groaned. She might have a vehicle built for speed, but she drove the thing like a granny going on a Sunday church drive. “What about my coach?” She’d even taken over communicating with his team about Ryder’s future. He felt like a fucking pussy instead of a man, but he’d do anything to protect the Langston family.
“You’re on temporary leave until this fades away. He doesn’t want to drag the rest of the team into your mud. However, he expects you to train in the interim.” She glanced at him through her lashes. “Your doctors clear you to hit the trails?”
“Yes.” He rubbed the skin below his stitches. “No concussion. I’ve taken harder hits on the race circuit.”
“Your next pre-Olympic race is in July.” Addison circled the open living room, pausing to stare through the floor to ceiling glass doors that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. “My assistant is finalizing this week’s schedule of personal appearances and faxing them to my office here. You’ll continue to lay low while I spin the press announcements.”
“Yes, boss.” He’d agreed to follow her lead, but man, oh man, Ryder had a restless itch to escape, disappear into the Sierra Nevada mountains and hole up in his retreat for fucking ever. “That’s all cool, but I can’t train if I’m kissing sick kids and talking to high schoolers about the evil consequences of reckless speeding.”
Her long sigh echoed in the sparsely decorated room. “Part of the leniency deal means you have to be under my constant supervision. I can’t be hauling you from here to the San Gabriel mountains and back while running Carrington Agency.”
“Whoa, wait a minute here.” Ryder shoved his laptop onto the leather couch, and bolted to his feet. “You’re my public relations rep, not my babysitter.” If he had to be with Addison twenty-four seven, seven days a week until he returned to his team in July, he’d go nuts. Not because her mausoleum mansion suffocated him from the inside out, but Addison did things to him, made him want in ways he’d never wanted. He wanted to peel those damn suits off her and more. He wanted to find out if the empathetic friend he’d once known still existed beneath all her layers of ice, frost, and professional perfection.
“I don’t like this anymore than you do, but I formulated this plan because I knew it would work.”
“You think you could have considered consulting me about this brilliant idea before you executed it?” Because the more time he spent alone with Addison, the harder it would be to resist figuring out how to unleash the passion and heart he’d caught glimmers of when she let her guard slip.
Her shoulders stiffened, and she didn’t turn away from the view. “I gave you a major concession when I promised to keep your secret, Ryder. You said you trusted me. So trust me about this decision. It’s the only way to prove you’re reformed. No one would put the two of us together romantically. Ever.”
Well, hell. Why did she have to sound so devoid of anything remotely close to human? Especially when there’d been plenty of heat flying between them two days ago? Plus, the coastal highway and beaches in Malibu wouldn’t cut it for his brutal, daily regime to prepare for what could possibly be his last Olympic appearance.
Ryder crossed the floor and stood next to Addison. “I have to train on mountain courses with rugged terrain—the tricks, the jumps and landings that bring me victories require hours of practice,” he said. “No way the coach will keep me on the Rio de Janeiro team if I’m not in peak condition. I have to win the race in July. Otherwise, proving to the world I’m a boy scout will be a waste of your time.”
“If you’d let me tell the press the truth we wouldn’t be in this position,” Addison said.
“That’s non-negotiable.”
“Agreed, but my father’s not well enough to run the agency.” She glanced his way. “I can’t ask him to cut his recuperation short so I can be available for all your training sessions.”
He heard the slight catch in her voice, and a sheen of moisture darkened her hazel eyes. Ryder knew she’d never been close to Alexander Carrington, but he was her only parent. If her father died, she’d be alone in the world.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I owe him big for getting me to where I am today.” And Alexander gave a shit about his daughter even when the guy had no clue about how to communicate with his geeky nerdette. Ryder’s folks didn’t care about him other than as a commodity for a handout, or a bailout in his father’s case. The one good thing that had come out of his twisted family had been getting sent to Saddle Creek Ranch. That, and his kid sister Samantha. She’d ended up on the right side of the law despite the hell they’d grown up in.
“He has to retire if he wants to stay healthy,” she said, clasping her hands. “I can’t run off to the mountains with you so you can train. What about all the PR ops I’ve arranged? Crap. Why didn’t I think about your training when I agreed to be your guardian?”
“You could telecommute—delegate. It’s not like everything is set in stone yet.” He’d lost his independence, freedom and he damned well wanted to regain some control over the situation. Another part of him wanted to show Addison she didn’t have to be strong all the time. “Reschedule the ops to be in other places besides Los Angeles.”
She dropped her arms by her side, then turned to face him. “I’ll tell the press what we’re doing. Get promo shots of you training—work in the element of how you want to make up for what happened by bringing home the gold again.”
The little line between her brows had returned, but Ryder considered that a win. He loved that cute little line. How many times had he observed it when she had leaned over his economics books while explaining the principles in terms he could understand?
Her academic mind quickly processed new approaches to saving his career. So why didn’t that seem like enough anymore? Sure, she was professional, but he wished he hadn’t fucked up their friendship. He shouldn’t expect her to be all warm and fuzzy toward him. He should stay away, let her do her job, but Ryder ignored the internal warning bells and acted on impulse.
He pulled Addison into his arms. “Thanks for hearing me out,” he said, then kissed the little line. Because the truth he’d never admitted to anyone years ago had been he’d always wanted to know what it would be like to hold Addison.
Though he wasn’t even close to being in her league.
Chapter 3
The brief brush of Ryder’s mouth against her skin did more to undo her resolve to keep him at arm’s length than anything else he could have done. For the first time in the weeks following her father’s heart attack, Addison relaxed. Standing in the circle of his warm embrace had her on the brink of wishing he’d bring his lips lower to kiss hers.
Which would be wrong, wrong, wrong. And it could lead to all kinds of complications neither of them could afford, especially her. “I’ve got to contact my people at the agency, and pull together a new press release.” Addison placed her palm on his chest to end his hug. Breaking away from Ryder’s heat and masculine scent, she swiveled on her heel and walked toward the hallway that lead to her home office. �
�Prep me a list of what you need from your penthouse as well as anything you require from your retreat in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.”
She had to remain aloof though her knees trembled while she moved away from Ryder’s tantalizing presence. And every nerve ending currently fired all kinds of do-me-now messages to long deprived erogenous zones, which made it difficult not to look over her shoulder at him one more time.
Do not let your body do the talking. And for god’s sake, don’t ever let him get close again. Keeping Ryder’s portfolio lucrative for the agency mattered. Nothing else. Her rebellious hormones calmed by the time she entered her office. She sank into her chair, grateful for a reprieve from Ryder’s overwhelming, masculine pull.
She’d created the space to reflect who she’d always be—a lover of books and cozy reading spaces. Colorful blankets had been tucked into a woven basket next to an oversized, yellow chair with a matching ottoman. A small table housed a reading lamp and her beloved e-reader. Everything had been placed in a corner next to a fireplace that she used whenever the weather allowed.
Addison opened her antique looking desk’s drawer, and pulled out her files. Then she buried herself in the tasks she needed to complete before the end of the day. For the next two hours she sent out a flurry of emails to her press contacts, texted her assistant with instructions to expedite Ryder’s retreat from Los Angeles, and called her father to touch base.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’d be doing great if I knew the details about Ryder’s situation,” he griped. “Are you sure you have the campaign under control? Sponsors still on board?”
Addison opened a drawer and pulled out a cough drop, then popped it into her mouth to relieve the tension scratching her throat. “He’s cooperating,” she said after tucking it into the corner of her cheek, then she gave her father a quick rundown about her media campaign.
“Not sure I agree with the court ordered supervision, but you’re not his type and you’re too smart to get mixed up with a player like Ryder.”
The tension in her throat thickened. “Gee, thanks, Dad,” she said and sucked on the drop. “I’ll call you after we get settled. Don’t worry about anything at the agency. I’ve got all the bases covered.”
“We’ll see about that,” her father said. “Keep me in the loop. I want to make sure nothing falls through the cracks.”
“I will.”
And there it was. The total lack of complete trust in her abilities. Sure, they’d gotten closer since she’d remade herself into a perfect size six with flawless skin and hair to complement her dedication to their company, Addison wondered if her father would ever truly approve of her.
Crunching the cough drop and swallowing, she turned her chair around to look at the rows of books lining the cherry shelves. Her childhood favorites—The Secret Garden, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz to name a few— and a dozen teenage series books with their well-worn spines had been interspersed with her business texts and financial reports. Here and there one of her go-to romances peeked out, luring her with the same siren call she’d heard on many a lonely night in her college dorm.
Though she hadn’t lived like a nun after her hard won beauty makeover, Addison hadn’t found anyone who made her chest ache with longing quite like Ryder. She’d gotten over her crush and moved on. What she never expected had been reuniting with the man and discovering he had a heart after all.
* * *
Two hours after he’d held Addison in his arms, Ryder walked to the stainless steel fridge and opened it. Diet this’s and low calorie that’s filled the interior. Instant protein shakes lined the inside of the door, and an assortment of pre-cut raw veggies in plastic containers stood in rows. He shut it and shook his head. Not a carb in sight and he needed plenty of them to train for his next race. He’d have to add pasta, bagels, and bread to the list he’d pulled together for her.
Ryder leaned against the granite counter that separated her modern kitchen from the open living area. A bowl of apples and low sugar meal replacement bars rested on it. He’d kill for a burger and fries. Instead, he grabbed an apple and bit into it.
No wonder Addison had such a perfect, sexy shape. She’d transformed her entire body, and her personality. Her body felt right in his arms, especially when she’d softened and relaxed long enough for him to feel the heat pulsing between them. She wanted him—and for a moment he’d thought about doing more than kissing her forehead. He’d ached to lower his mouth onto hers and kiss her long, hard, and deep.
Then he’d wanted to take that kiss a whole lot further. Unleash the passion flaring underneath her skin, sparking in her eyes when they’d tangled verbally. He wanted to give her a hell of a lot more than a comforting kiss on the forehead.
Great. Now he’d replaced the hole in his stomach with a major rush of blood to his groin, making his jeans tight. And he had no way to release his pent up energy. Normally, he’d take his frustration out on the bike. Riding hard had been how he’d learned to control all of his problems, sexual or otherwise, especially the pain of his upbringing.
He chewed on another bite of apple when his iPhone vibrated in his back pocket. He pulled it out, quickly scanning the text on the screen. His chest hollowed and a sick feeling moved through him as he read the message from one of the few people he’d maintained contact with after he’d left Saddle Creek, Montana.
It’s Rayne, John had a stroke. He’s in a coma. It’s bad.
The apple he’d been gnawing on dropped to the pristine granite counter. Rayne had been a regular tagalong at the ranch when he’d been under his mentor John’s watch. But a friend, too. They shared the same shit reality of having an alcoholic parent.
John had been the only example Rayne had experienced of how a real man treated others. Ryder shared that bond with her, too. Rarely did she contact him, but then Rayne had been busy getting her veterinarian’s license while he’d been chasing thrills.
None of that mattered now. His heart thumped hard against his sternum. What hospital? He punched in the question with shaking hands. He couldn’t imagine John as anything but larger than life.
Saddle Creek Mercy General.
I’ll be out there by the end of the week.
You sure you’re allowed to travel?
Crap. His life had been splattered all over the fucking tabloids and Internet. The accident and Addison’s agreement with the lawyers meant he had to get permission to go. Well, he’d be damned if he took no for an answer. He walked toward Addison’s office, determined to make her understand he had to go.
The rules of how to be a real man John had hammered into his head raced through his brain. Ryder had become more than a man during the time he’d been placed with John. He’d learned to choose the honorable way to behave, which had gotten him into this current mess.
I’ll figure something out.
Okay. The nurse is calling me. TTYL
Addison might put on a terrific act as an Ice Queen, but deep down his empathetic friend still existed. He counted on her to hear him out and relent.
He burst into her sanctuary, and Addison looked up, her eyes wide. “You make a habit of invading people’s privacy?”
“Only when it’s important,” he said.
“I don’t see a list in your hand,” she said.
“The list can wait.” Ryder closed the distance between them, noting the difference between this space and the rest of Addison’s impersonal mansion. This room reflected everything he remembered about her sweet nature, and the warmth of her heart.
He’d bank on her compassionate side to emerge to he’d make good on his promise to see his mentor one more time. And while he was at it, he’d make good on a rule—a real man never breaks a woman’s heart. He’d broken that one long ago when he’d told the guys he’d never be with a chick like Fattie Addie.
* * *
“I don’t have time to waste, so you better have a damn good reason for not cooperating with me.” Addison stayed p
ut and used the desk between them as a barrier. “Especially when I’ve rearranged my work schedule to suit your training needs.”
He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I appreciate it. Really. But something’s come up that has to take precedence.”
“There’s nothing more important than saving your career, which has already been made more difficult by your request to protect the Langston family from the truth.”
“There’s someone I have to see first,” Ryder said, his voice breaking. “Before it’s too late.”
In all the years she’d known Ryder, and after pouring through his files at the agency, she had learned precious little about his background other than he’d grown up on the rough side of Los Angeles. He refused to talk about his parents, and only mentioned his sister on a few occasions. “Is something wrong with Samantha?” Addison asked.
“She’s okay. It’s… Christ… John Stone. He ran a ranch for troubled youths in Montana. I got sent there when I was sixteen.”
Addison lightly stroked her throat. Of all the things she expected to hear, this wasn’t it. “You have a juvenile record?” she asked. Another problem to solve, but she could fix it.
“No. Thanks to John, but now he’s in a fucking coma.” Ryder clasped the edge of her desk. “He made the difference between me having a shit life and the one I have now. I have to see him before he, if he... Christ.”
She’d never seen Ryder like this, not even after the accident taking Tiffany’s life. “I’ve scheduled a full PR photo op and media blitz. You’ve got to train.”
“All I’m asking for is one weekend.” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and a sheen glimmered in his eyes. “Please Addison. Let me go to him. You know what it’s like to lose a parent. And to fear for your father’s life. What would you have done if you couldn’t say goodbye to your mother, or hold your father’s hand while he fought to recover in a hospital room?”
Reforming The Heartbreaker: Prequel (Hollywood Heartbreaker #0.5) Page 2