Golf. His dad’s fourth, sometimes fifth—depending on how active his sweet tooth was at any given moment—reason for living, after his wife and kids.
“I’m not sure what he thinks he’s going to perfect. He already plays a damn solid game.” Not a surprise, though, when Jerry’s focus, determination and stubbornness were taken into account. If his dad thought he could do better, he wouldn’t stop until he’d achieved that goal. “Honestly, Mom, I don’t know why you don’t play. I think you’d be really good.”
“I might be,” she agreed, leading him into the wood-floored entryway, “but your dad needs something of his own. This is it. Playing golf with his buddies. We share plenty of other hobbies, and I have more than enough on my own. I certainly don’t need to add another.”
That was one of the many reasons his parents got along so damn well. They understood each other’s needs. Ryan could only hope he found the same someday. A companion. Someone who understood him and whom he understood. A friend. A partner. A lover. A confidante. A woman who challenged him to always be the best he could.
Andrea Caputo? Possibly. But...probably not. That did not stop Ryan from wishing that they’d already established a friendship. If they had, he might give in to the sudden instinct to call her, invite her here for dinner. But they’d barely broken ground. Doing so would cause her to question his motives, might even jeopardize any forward momentum.
Perhaps next month, when Nicole visited, they’d have a stronger base and he could invite her to his mother’s birthday. Perhaps.
For the moment, he’d enjoy the afternoon with his parents, the meal—lasagna and tomato bread, he’d wager, based on the scents emanating from the kitchen—and relax. Tomorrow, the next day and every day following would take care of itself. One way or another.
That was a lesson he had learned.
And tomorrow already held the promise of being an excellent day, simply due to the fact that he would see Andi again. Maybe he’d even find another way to make her laugh.
* * *
Thick, fat clouds stretched across a sky that was more gray than blue, promising rain at some point in the next several hours. There might even be a thunderstorm, complete with lightning. Andi hoped not. The loud cracks of thunder would send her adrenaline pumping and her heart racing. A lovely, light downpour, however, might just help her take a long afternoon nap, something she was in dire need of.
In the past few weeks, she hadn’t beaten her three-hour record of continuous sleep, and last night, she hadn’t managed even that. This needed to change soon, because she knew that without the proper amount of rest, everything she had come to Steamboat Springs to accomplish wouldn’t occur. So, yes, the sound of rain drumming against her bedroom windows—minus the ricocheting bursts of thunder from an actual storm—might have a soothing effect, which might lead into a long, delicious, nightmare-free nap.
Carefully stretching out her legs in front of her, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the wash of weakness that had overtaken her. Oh, today’s session with Ryan hadn’t been any worse than last week’s, but maybe she’d pushed herself too hard. Or maybe not hard enough. Who knew? For the moment, though, for whatever reason, she was in pain.
Her aunt had texted her, letting her know that she was running late. Paul and Margaret owned a restaurant, Foster’s Pub and Grill, as well as a sporting goods shop here in town, where all of Andi’s cousins were also part owners and worked. There was a meeting this morning that had apparently gone longer than expected. Margaret had promised in her text that she’d get there as soon as she could, but figured she’d be at least another hour.
And that was fine. Andi understood. If she’d felt comfortable enough driving herself, she’d already be back at the house, sequestered in her bedroom. Hoping for rain. Hoping for sleep. Hoping for...amnesia, really.
Or a round of immense good luck, that would propel her out of this stuck place. Close to three weeks since arriving in Steamboat Springs and nothing had really changed.
“Andi? You okay?” Ryan’s voice, deep and reassuring, came through the fog. She forced her eyes open and saw him standing in front of her with an expression of concern. “I didn’t expect to see you out here still. Your aunt is usually waiting when we’re done.”
“She’s running late, is all, by an hour or so. But I’m fine and she’s fine. Nothing here for you to worry about.”
“Good.” Glancing at his watch, he smiled that smile. The one that brought the butterflies to life. “I’m free for another forty-five minutes, was about to take a short walk, stretch the legs a little before my next client. Feel like joining me? We don’t even have to talk. Promise.”
Lord. She wanted to say yes. Desperately so, even. Which was why she ignored that want and said, “Thank you, but no. Think I’ll just sit here and wait for my aunt. Have fun, though, and if you see a four-leaf clover, save it for me.”
“What do you need a four-leaf clover for? Seems you have plenty of luck on your side,” he said, sitting next to her instead of taking his damn walk. Lovely. Now she could smell him—a strangely intoxicating mix of soap and shampoo and something else, something a tad spicy she couldn’t identify—and their thighs were touching. “You seem tired, Andi. Did I work you too hard? Or still having problems sleeping?”
She ignored the luck comment and the query about her sleep, but answered his other question. “A little fatigued, but that’s normal. Nothing to worry about, Ryan.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Thankfully, he stood then, so she could breathe again. “Come on, up and at ’em. Let’s take that walk. I promise you’ll feel better for it, and besides, there’s something I want to show you. Something I think, hope, you’ll appreciate.”
When asked like that, how could she say no? And, yeah, he’d raised her curiosity. “You never learned how to take no for an answer, did you, Mr. Bradshaw? But okay, you win.”
“I typically do,” he said in a good-old-boy sort of way.
He held out his hand to help her up, but she stood on her own. As she always had, as she always would. The muscles in her leg complained viciously, which she ignored. She could handle a walk, and in the long run she’d probably be better off for it. If nothing else, the exercise would tire her even more, making it easier to take that nap later she so yearned for.
“You can quit looking at me as if I’m about to keel over,” she said, holding her chin high. “I’m fine, as I said. And I’ve agreed to your walk, so let’s get started before my aunt shows.”
“Oh, I’m not looking at you as if you’re about to keel over,” he said, gesturing toward the driveway. “I’m also not looking at the dark circles beneath your eyes, or how your entire body just trembled as you stood. I’ve noticed those, yes, but what I’m looking at...what I’m seeing right now is fire. In your hair. In your eyes. In your demeanor. And, now, in your cheeks.”
“Better be careful then.” She followed his purposefully slow and even pace down the driveway, and tried not to be annoyed by her appreciation of his awareness and her discomposure by the very same. “Fire tends to burn. Wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Is that a warning?”
“No, not really. Let’s call it an observation.” Glancing over her shoulder, she grinned to lighten her words. “Fire is hot. Hot things burn. Burns cause pain. Therefore, one would be intelligent to remain cautious around fire.”
“Fair enough.”
They continued their easy stride, not talking at all, as they left Ryan’s property and took a right from his driveway. Since he did not live in a neighborhood, there wasn’t a sidewalk, so they hugged the street near the curb. After a few minutes had passed, Andi was forced to admit that the calm, rhythmic movement seemed to be doing her some good. The throbbing in her leg decreased, the tension in her shoulders eased and a good deal of the smog in her brain cleared.
/> Damn him for being right, anyway.
She felt so much better than she had just a few minutes ago, but she kept that thought to herself. What was it about this guy that got to her so keenly? How was he able to look at her and see so much truth so freaking easily? Others couldn’t. She’d made sure of that.
This man could, though. He’d proved that several times already.
Suddenly, Ryan came to a stop and pointed toward a narrow path that jutted into the woods on that side of the road. “What I want to show you is in there. The path is a little rocky, but I think you can manage it just fine, as it’s a fairly straight shot. Feel up to it?”
No. “Of course I do. Lead on.”
“Actually, I want you to go first. That way I can catch you if you trip or lose your balance. And don’t take that the wrong way, Miss Independent. I brought you here. It’s my job to ascertain your safety, that’s all this is.”
Shrugging, she stepped onto the path, using her cane for balance, and said, “Why would I think anything else? You’ll have to guide me, though, since I have no idea where we’re headed.”
“Nah. We’re not going that far in, and you’ll know when to stop.”
With those words, she trudged forward, her entire focus on not falling or losing her balance, because the idea of Ryan’s arms closing in around her was a little too appealing. Oh, hell, who did she think she was fooling? A lot too appealing.
“Keep going, we’re almost there,” Ryan said from behind her, his voice encouraging. Confident. “You’re doing great and, once there—if we have a few extra minutes—we can sit and relax a bit before heading back.”
Good. While the pain had receded to a much more manageable level, her muscles were shaky, still too weak for her comfort—from the workout earlier, the walk now and a definite lack of healing, restorative sleep.
Maybe it was time to consider the sleeping pills her doctor had prescribed months ago...the same ones she’d refused to take thus far. That was partially due to a groundless fear that they’d keep her locked in one of her nightmares, unable to rouse herself, and partially due to old-fashioned stubbornness. Pills might supply a temporary solution, but they weren’t the answer. They wouldn’t fix anything over the long term.
Lost in thought as she was, and not paying nearly enough attention to the path, her shoe hit a rock and she came close to losing her footing. Before she did, before so much as a speck of panic set in, a pair of strong and able arms pulled her backward into an equally strong and able hold. For a few brief—too brief?—seconds, Andi’s body was pressed firmly against Ryan’s, and in that minuscule period, she did not feel discomfort or uneasy.
Rather, a sense of utmost safety existed...which made sense, but something else lurked there, too. Recognition? Maybe. As strange as that possibility was, maybe that.
“You’re fine,” Ryan whispered into her ear, his tenor reassuring and his breath warm against her skin. Both of which elicited a series of tingles that began at her neck and wove their way down all the way to her freaking ankles. Crazy, to feel that way. Absurd, too. “I got you, Andi. I’m not about to let you fall, darlin’. Not today, anyway.”
“Thank you,” she said. “And you’re right. I am fine. You can let me go now.”
He did, without delay. “We’re almost there,” he said, once he seemed certain of her ability to stand on her own. “See that bend in the path up ahead? Our destination is just beyond.”
“Then let’s get to it,” she said, more under her breath than not. Damn it. The phantom pressure of his arms remained, as did the sensation of their bodies plastered against one another. “Unless we hurry, I’ll pretty much have to turn around as soon as we get there, anyway. My aunt is likely to worry if I’m not waiting outside your place when she arrives.”
“Of course. That isn’t a problem.” The tone of his voice told her, without doubt, that she’d made him smile. Why? How? Jeez, what could she possibly have said or done to amuse him enough to bring forth a smile? “If I know you at all,” he continued, sounding annoyingly confident, “you’ll appreciate what you’re about to see. And whether you like the idea or not, I’m beginning to know who you are.”
“Lies,” she said, going for light and easy. “All lies.”
They started the trek around the bend, but she kept her mouth shut against the remaining slew of rebuttals bopping to and fro in her brain. She was not his darling, that was number one. In fact, she wasn’t anyone’s darling. Number two? Ryan only knew what she’d let him see, which hadn’t been a hell of a lot. Because no matter what he thought and despite that way of his, he could not read her mind. He did not know her. And...and...she probably wouldn’t have tripped, even without his help.
Probably, she’d have caught herself in time. She did not need Ryan Bradshaw, or anyone for that matter, swooping in and lifting her backward in his arms as if she were a bird with a wounded wing. She was not. Oh, and why—
Her body and her thought processes came to an abrupt halt at the exact same instant. She blinked and stared at the view that had morphed into being. She closed her eyes, opened them and stared again. Certainly, she’d somehow crossed a mystical barrier and now stood in a completely different world, because she had never before seen anything quite so beautiful.
As she stood and stared, the hard, jagged edges of her nerves softened, the pain in her leg disappeared, and the weight—that damn, one-thousand-pound weight that had snuffed out all joy—became much more manageable. Simply by the sight in front of her.
Multicolored rocks and stones lined the edges of a small body of water—no more than twelve to fifteen feet in diameter—that sat beneath a glossy umbrella of leaves. Wildflowers in a variety of shades, from the purest white to the boldest blue to the deepest violet, grew in scattered bunches outside of and in between the so-smooth-they-gleamed rocky boundaries. The effect was a tranquil type of loveliness, straight from one of Andi’s childhood fairy tales, that brought a smile to her lips and peace to her heart.
All of this—the water, the flowers, the stones and rocks, the green leafy canopy—was beautiful in its own right, without anything else being added to the mix. But what made this scene so very special, so otherworldly stunning and almost too perfect be real, were the wispy tendrils of steam that swirled upward from the water’s gleaming surface into the patches of sunlight that had broken through the heavy branches of the thick-trunked trees. Within this speckled light, the twisting puffs of steam began to glitter, becoming almost iridescent with the luminous sparkle of the most brilliant, the most lustrous, the most precious gemstones—a breathtaking display of diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires—creating the illusion of fantasy, of magic.
And, oh, was it a glorious sight to behold.
For the first time in over six months, serenity stomped out Andi’s anxiety, and true, unabashed hope stirred within her soul. Not only did she see the beauty in front of her, but the pureness of what she saw resonated all the way through. She felt real...almost whole.
“What is this place?” she asked, her tone hushed as she walked forward. “I don’t ever want to leave. I want to live here, right at this spot.”
“I often feel the same. As to your question,” Ryan said, moving to stand beside her, “what you’re looking at is a hot spring. Not a large one, obviously, but with the flowers, the trees, the way the light brings the steam to life, I thought you’d appreciate the serenity that exists here. Do you feel it?”
“Yes. To my bones.” Then, without thought or concern for what he might think, she took one small step to the side, toward him, so close their hips touched, and put her head on his shoulder. “Why aren’t there a ton of people here, soaking in the sight? I’m shocked we’re alone.”
“I’m not sure.” He reached for her and then stopped, as if having second thoughts. “The path shows that others come here, but I’ve yet
to stumble upon another person, and I’m typically here once or twice a week. Luck, I guess.”
“Must be. This is way better than a four-leaf clover.” Acting on instinct, she put her hand in his. Dangerous? Oh, yes, but also...right. “Thank you, Ryan. For bringing me here, for sharing this magical place with me. I... Seriously, thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome, Andi. I agree. There is magic here, of a sort.” The sturdiness of Ryan’s body next to hers, the feel of his hand capturing hers and the warmth of his shoulder under her cheek all seemed, in that moment, like another type of magic. Not that she would utter such nonsense aloud. “I’m glad you see what I see, feel what I feel, in this place. It’s a start.”
“A start to what?”
“Oh, just about anything and everything, I’d say.” His jaw brushed the top of her head before he pulled away. She missed his nearness, the comfort his presence gave her, instantly. “We should head back now, right?”
“Yes,” she said, her mind locked onto his words. Just about anything and everything. What did that mean? What had he meant? “Someday, I’d like to come back. Stay for a while, maybe bring a picnic lunch and a book.”
A pillow and a blanket, too, so she could rest. Here, she was sure, she’d be able to sleep for hours on end without a solitary nightmare. How could she not?
“Public property, Andi. You can return whenever you want.” He tipped her chin so she had no choice but to look straight into his eyes. Lord. Those eyes would be the end of her if she stared into them too hard, for too long. “I won’t ask you to promise that you’ll bring someone else with you, but please make sure someone knows where you are. Anyone. Me, your aunt, your uncle. Just someone. The path is uneven. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She almost argued. Almost told him that she was an adult who did not need to share her whereabouts with anyone. And, while sweet, his concern for her well-being was unnecessary and unheeded. She was fine. She should have said all of those things, except when she opened her mouth to do so, she found she couldn’t. His concern was genuine. His care, for whatever reason, seemed authentic. And this man wanted her safe. She couldn’t argue.
From Good Guy To Groom (The Colorado Fosters #6) Page 5