Harrison stared, amazed, when the senator’s wife, Leslie, hugged him and then turned to hug Ryder as well.
“We’ve known Ryder for well over ten years,” Senator Brinkmann told him with a smile.
“I heard what happened. I’m so sorry,” the senator’s wife said to Ryder.
Harrison watched the exchange curiously.
“It was for the best,” Ryder said and changed the subject, engaging both the senator and his wife in conversation.
He watched the attentive way Ryder kept his attention on the couple but never one second forgot he was standing there. It was nothing outlandish, just a hand on his elbow every now and again to keep him close or to engage him in conversation when he grew quiet. When Ryder chuckled at a story the senator’s wife shared, Harrison’s gaze was suddenly riveted on Ryder’s strong throat.
In front of Harrison’s eyes, Ryder relaxed and transformed from a mocking, overbearing defender into a charming, attentive man. He drained his glass of juice.
Had the charm been there all along? Maybe the guy hid this part of himself. His fingers pulled at his bottom lip. Maybe Ryder didn’t care to show this side of himself to a client.
“Harrison?”
“Yes?” He blinked when Ryder turned those dark brown eyes on him.
“Okay?”
“Yes, can you get me another cranberry juice?” he urged beneath his breath with a smile.
Ryder looked around the terrace before taking his glass. The man stepped forward and gave him a stern look.
“Stay with the senator and his wife and their security, I’ll be right back,” Ryder murmured.
“I will, I promise,” he whispered back with a cheeky smile and crossed his heart with his finger.
He suddenly wanted to pretend things were normal, at least for tonight, and he wasn’t going to look too closely as to why.
Ryder smirked, shook his head, and disappeared inside.
Harrison watched until the man’s wide shoulders disappeared before he turned to engage the senator and his wife in conversation. Councilman Elway and his wife joined in. The senator got into a debate with the councilman about what to do with leftover city funds this summer.
After a moment, Leslie Brinkmann turned toward the view, and Harrison joined her.
“It’s so beautiful.” She smiled, stepping up to the balcony railing.
“It certainly is,” he said with a grin to the woman he’d known since the age of twenty. Garrett and Leslie were friends of his family. They’d been over to dinner several times when his father had been alive.
Looking out over the night lights of Denver, he pushed his fingers between his tie and his neck, wishing the damned thing wasn’t irritating him tonight.
Lifting his face to the cool, crisp air, he drew in a deep breath. He really loved it here. Born and raised in Colorado, he had no intention of ever leaving other than to travel and see the world. He might do that, but this place would forever be his home.
“How are you, Harrison?” Her kind eyes met his. “It hasn’t been that long since your father passed away.”
“I’m doing okay,” he sighed and gave her a lopsided smile. “I still miss him.”
“We miss him too.” She patted his hand. “But it will get better with time.”
“I hope so,” he said as he swallowed hard.
She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Your father would be very proud of you,” she whispered.
“Thank you.” He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat.
“Now, tell me why you have a bodyguard.”
“Can’t pass anything by you,” he laughed.
“No, you can’t.”
“I have some trouble that I’d rather not talk about tonight,” he admitted.
“If it’s the kind of trouble Ryder takes care of, you’re in good hands,” the senator said as he joined his wife, giving Harrison a pat to the shoulder.
Councilman Elway and his family had gone inside, leaving the balcony doors open.
“How about a dance, dear? I think I hear our song.”
“You always hear our song.” Leslie laughed, cupped Harrison’s cheek gently, and then took her husband’s hand.
Harrison smiled as the dynamic pair and their security detail made their way inside. The sound of music and laughter filtered through the open doors.
Smiling, Harrison took a step to follow them inside when Edward Crane stepped out the door and blocked his way.
“Harrison,” Edward said, snapping the door shut.
No fucking way. He drew in a strangling breath and fought back the bile rising in his throat.
Edward Crane moved in a bit too close and ran his eyes over him without any change of expression. The smile Edward used to ease the public never reached his eyes.
A shiver crept down Harrison’s spine, and his hands grew damp with sweat.
“Edward.” Clearing his throat, he tossed a look at the patio doors.
Please hurry, Ryder. Please hurry!
“A detective came to see me,” Edward said, his expressionless eyes staring him down. “Why would you give them my name?”
“Because of the way we parted.” He licked at his dry lips.
“All I wanted to do was help you, Harrison. You need to get married, and I need money. Was that so wrong?”
“Did you attack me in my parking garage?”
Edward took another step forward, and god help him, Harrison took several steps away, gaging the distance to the patio door.
“How could you think that of me?” Edward frowned.
“I…” it was the only word he could get out before his throat seized up.
The door to the patio suddenly opened and Toby stepped out. Relief made Harrison feel lightheaded.
“There you are,” Toby called out happily, coming toward him. Drunk or not, Harrison was so freaking glad to see him.
“Toby!” He motioned his friend over, hoping like hell that Edward couldn’t see how badly his hands were shaking.
Toby knocked into Edward, who took a step away. It all happened in a second—Toby, tossed an arm around his shoulders and Edward’s hard eyes stared at them.
A crack sounded, and Harrison jumped as the door was shoved open and smacked against the wall.
The next second, Ryder’s powerful frame filled the entryway. The glass the man held was placed on the nearby patio table with a snap.
Harrison’s gaze met and clung to Ryder’s dark eyes across the distance. The bodyguard moved, closing the distance like an animal; sleek, powerful, and dangerous. The man’s razor sharp focus lifted from his face and sliced over Toby before landing with fury on Edward.
Harrison gasped, and the sound drew Edward’s gaze from Ryder back to him. Harrison didn’t give a shit. Sucking in huge gulps of air, he tried to untangle Toby.
Then Ryder was there, reaching for Toby with a hand on his shoulder and arm, and his friend was firmly guided away. Toby stumbled off to the right and clung to a small, nearby chair.
Ryder was between him and Edward, blocking him from his view, and Harrison could suddenly breathe.
God help him, he reached out and clutched at Ryder’s arm, and he couldn’t bring himself to release him. Was one supposed to grab their bodyguard? Was it politically correct? And if so, did that prevent the bodyguard from actually guarding said person? Was there a right time or a wrong time to grab your bodyguard?
Ryder interrupted his conundrum by wrapping an arm firmly around his waist, and Harrison gladly let the man take him away.
“Harrison!” Toby called out.
Edward said nothing and backed several steps away.
That’s right, you bastard, you don’t want to take on someone like Ryder.
The noise of the party assaulted his ears as they stepped inside together.
“Was that Edward Crane?” Ryder rasped.
He nodded abruptly and almost stumbled into someone. Only Ryder’s grip around his waist kept him upright. Drawing
him through the crowd, they made it to one of the quieter areas along the far wall. The music drifted over the party, glasses clinked, and the murmur of talking and laughter filled the air.
“You’re okay,” Ryder murmured against his temple and tightened his arm. His heart lurched in his chest. Having lost his voice, all Harrison could do was nod.
After a moment, Ryder’s arm slid from around his waist and closed gently around his bicep, blocking the room from view, protecting him from curious glances. Harrison’s nerves calmed and his heartbeat returned to normal. He grew warm and the feeling of safety swept over him. At that moment, his cock decided it liked Ryder touching him. His mind raced with this new turn of events. Oh my god, this is not happening.
“I can’t leave yet,” he choked out, willing his body to get under some semblance of control. He had obligations to fulfill!
“I know,” Ryder said, drawing him farther away.
They reached a small refreshments table tucked in the corner and Ryder poured a glass of water.
Harrison sought out the wall with his back, tipped his head against it, and looked up. Now that his body was no longer wedged up against Ryder’s, his head was starting to clear. He fumbled for his pills and popped a couple into his hand.
Something touched his hand, and he looked down at the drink Ryder held.
Gripping the glass, his hand shook, and the water sloshed over. Ryder’s hand closed around his, holding the glass steady. His pulse hummed beneath the touch and he forgot his pills and he forgot about drinking.
His head tipped and his gaze clung to Ryder’s handsome face. The world screeched to a halt and the room shrank in around them. The cocoon of safety engulfed him, and he found his breathing matching Ryder’s until even the noise of the party fell away.
Ryder
The warm scent of Harrison’s cologne drifted between them. Caught off guard, Ryder swallowed and cleared his throat before he removed his hand and took an abrupt step back, breaking the tense connection.
Harrison turned his face away and chewed the pills before sipping at the water in the glass before placing it on the bar.
Either the drink glass had turned Ryder’s palm damp or the moisture was from sweat. He crushed the small drink napkin in his hand.
Ryder’s gaze snapped around the room. Do your fucking job. He should have never left Harrison alone, even if it was at the man’s request. This fuck up was totally his fault.
“Hey.” He turned his gaze back to the man and cleared his throat, waiting for those blue eyes to sweep upward.
“What?” Harrison’s normally flushed skin was pale, and it worried him.
“Tell me something.”
“What?” Harrison blinked slowly up at him.
“Tell me something about yourself.” Get Harrison talking and forgetting the incident on the balcony and maybe his own desire to tuck Harrison somewhere safe and go back outside and beat the living shit out of those two predators would wane.
“Um…” the young man worried his bottom lip with his teeth, “I’m…”
“What do you like to do?” he pressed gently when Harrison’s stumbling words halted.
“I love bookstores.” Harrison seemed hesitant and a bit lost, as if nobody had ever cared to ask him a damned question.
“Oh yeah? What do you love about them?”
“I like discovering different books. There’s this one place I go to, it’s called Between The Pages. They carry all the great historical fiction writers and sometimes they have guest authors and new authors.” Harrison looked a bit sheepish. “It’s fun.”
“Sounds fun,” Ryder agreed.
“Do you like to read?”
“It’s not my favorite thing to do unless it’s a newspaper or a magazine.” He smiled when Harrison chuckled softly.
“What else?” Ryder probed, wanting to keep the light in those sparkling blue eyes.
“Oh! And coffee!”
“Coffee?”
“Yeah.” Harrison darted him a shy smile. “I love specialty coffee and discovering new coffee houses. Some of them even have books lying around, so reading and coffee, that’s a win-win,” Harrison finished, and the soft and reverent way he spoke produced a vision of Harrison curled up in an oversized chair, head bent over a book held in his lap.
“It sounds like a win.” Ryder pulled a hand down over his mouth and chin.
“Do you like coffee?”
“Can’t function without it,” he smirked, crossing his arms.
“There’s this place, I’ll show you—”
“Mr. Trudel?” A man approached.
Ryder spun away from Harrison, more than a little grateful for the interruption. He couldn’t get caught up in conversation to the point where he forgot he had a job to do. What he’d hoped would lighten the atmosphere after the scene on the balcony had only made things feel more intense.
Ryder stepped in the way when the stranger moved closer.
“It’s okay, Ryder, this is Mr. Deacon. He’s one of the reasons I’m here tonight.” Harrison put a hand on his arm, and Ryder eased his stance.
He nodded cordially to Deacon and stepped back and to the side, giving Harrison enough room to do what he came to do. The move effectively forced Harrison to drop his hand. Ryder gripped one of his own wrists in his hand and swept his gaze over the crowd while Harrison spoke.
Sheila seemed to have sobered up, and it only took Ryder two seconds to see how. The boyfriend slipped the woman a small baggie filled with white powder. Sheila tucked it into her purse, kissed the boyfriend on the cheek, and made her way toward where the restrooms were located.
“Mr. Trudel, I can’t thank you enough for your generous donation to the children’s ward at the hospital,” Deacon gushed.
Ryder’s gaze flicked back to the pair. The man clasped Harrison’s hand in both of his in a grateful gesture. Deacon’s suit was wrinkled, his upper lip glistened with sweat, and he wore his black hair in a glued down comb-over.
The grateful hand clasp went on longer than normal. Ryder’s eyes slanted to Harrison’s face.
Harrison gently tugged his hand away. The move appeared awkward between the two men.
Every fucking instinct went into overdrive when Deacon took a step closer to Harrison and Harrison took a step closer to Ryder.
That was the signal he’d been waiting for. Anything that made his client uncomfortable set off his inner alarm.
Ryder stepped forward and gave Deacon a professional yet pointed look. Deacon threw him a hasty glance and took a large step back.
The number of sharks circling Harrison kept growing, and Ryder wondered if he should add Deacon to the list, he certainly had the build.
Deacon cleared his throat and gave Harrison a wide smile. “The hospital board wants to know if you’d be available to visit in the near future.”
“I’d love that. Please tell the board thank you. Have someone call my office tomorrow and ask for my assistant, Marty. She will schedule it on my calendar.”
“Thank you, Mr. Trudel,” Deacon said and moved on after another small moment of hesitation.
Ryder glanced down at Harrison. Thick lashes swept upward, and blue eyes suddenly searched his own. Ryder’s tie suddenly felt too tight.
Donations to children hospitals, bookstores, and specialty coffee? Harrison was more complex than the spoiled rich boy he’d taken him for.
“Ryder?”
He froze. Harrison’s eyes flicked over to the voice, eyes widening and then sweeping back up to him.
He didn’t need to look to know what Harrison saw. Ryder would recognize that voice anywhere.
Ryder turned and gave his ex-husband a curt nod. Warren Aldridge III didn’t just reek of wealth and power; he dripped with it. Old money, passed down through generations. Ryder was sure that if cut, his ex would bleed green.
Stylish in a suit that cost as much as the Kiton he wore, Warren stood out in the crowd. Not only because of what he wore. Warren was ta
ll, about Ryder’s height at six-feet four, with a powerful build, blond hair, and blue eyes that any unsuspecting fool would fall for, and Ryder had been one of them.
“What? No hello after all this time?” Warren asked.
“What do you want, Warren?” He gave his ex a flat stare.
“I was just so surprised to see you here. I know how much you detest this crowd and these types of functions.” Warren stepped closer, eyes filled with apparent concern.
It hadn’t been so much these types of functions, but rather Warren’s constant parading him around like a piece of meat that had been the unbearable part. That and the pretentious crap and cheating that went on in his ex-husband’s crowd. Warren hadn’t understood his aversion and constantly picked at him, angry when he’d stayed home more often than not.
“I’m working,” he answered with a sigh.
Harrison chose that moment to shift and place a hand on his arm. The touch was as surprising as it was welcome. The feel of Harrison’s hand drew his attention down to the quiet and alluring young man. Ryder realized that he felt none of the irritation he normally experienced mingling with this crowd.
“So I see.”
Warren’s snide tone of voice snapped his gaze back. The concern in his ex-husband’s eyes had changed into a shrewd and calculating look as the billionaire swept his eyes up and down Harrison.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Trudel.” Warren’s eyes gleamed. Jealousy took the place of the calculating look. Ryder had seen it before. Warren didn’t want him, but didn’t want anyone else to have him either.
“I’m Warren Aldridge III, Ryder’s husband.”
Harrison sucked in a quick breath and slipped the hand from his arm.
“Ex,” Ryder growled. “Ex-husband.”
Warren shrugged and swept his eyes over him. “Is that the suit I bought for you?”
He held his breath for five seconds. “No, this is the suit I bought for myself.”
Warren waved a hand. “Semantics. When we were together everything was ours.”
“Ryder?”
“Yes,” he answered Harrison’s softly spoken question immediately. He heard the quick intake of breath from Warren and the irritated hiss that followed.
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