Wine and Scenery (Citizen Soldier Book 7)

by Donna Michaels

  Jesus, he was babbling like a high schooler. And why was she sitting down on the bed?

  “Okay, great. I…uh…didn’t know there was a problem.” She slipped a finger beneath the strap around her ankle and removed her sandal. “I hope I didn’t create a mess.”

  “No. Not at all,” he said, gripping his toolbox tightly, as she repeated the process on the other foot. “I don’t think you used it. The one on the right just needed a washer.”

  “Ah…I’ve been using the left sink.” She stood up and smiled. “And you’ve been busy creating a masterpiece.”

  He raised a brow. “I have?”

  “Yes.” Admiration lit her eyes, and son-of-a-bitch, his heart cracked open a little. “I spent the afternoon at the theater, and it didn’t take long to realize you aren’t just a carpenter, Ryder. You’re a craftsman.”

  His chest swelled at her unexpected compliment. “Thank you.” Not many people knew the difference.

  But, this was Sophia, and even though her eyes were one color, and hair was a traditional color now, she wasn’t most people.

  “Between the theater and what I’ve seen of this resort, I just wanted you to know I think your work is amazing,” she said. “And I look forward to working with you on the sets.”

  More compliments.

  Growing increasingly uncomfortable, he shifted the weight on his feet. If it weren’t for the flash of surprise in her eyes at her admission, he’d think she was fishing for a compliment in return.

  She wasn’t getting one. He couldn’t tell her he looked forward to working with her too…because he didn’t. The woman was trouble. And unlike a certain New Year’s Eve many years ago, he wasn’t looking for any.

  “I have a few more things to take care of at the resort, so I should get going,” he said. “If you find anything else wrong with the place, let Ethan know.”

  By rights, he could’ve told her to let him know, but he needed to keep her at arm’s length. To keep things professional.

  Her smile faltered. “Okay. Sure.”

  Now, he felt like a dick, because he was one. But it wasn’t just for his own good. It was for hers, too.

  Other than work, she didn’t need him in her life. He let people down.

  He wasn’t worth it.

  “Have a good evening,” he said on his way out the door.

  The sooner he left, the better. His chest was already growing heavy with guilt. He didn’t need that crap. He needed to focus on work. Starting with the mound of paperwork on his desk back at the office.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Ryder wished he’d just gone home. The pile had taken over the top of his desk.

  “Do you want me to order some pizza from Martelli’s?” Cathy, his assistant leaned against his doorway, pity darkening her eyes.

  He sat back in his chair and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. Looks like I’m going to be here longer than I thought.”

  She nodded, and made to turn away.

  “Any news on those bids?”

  “No.” She turned around to face him again. “No word yet. And I’m sorry about the Moleski project.”

  He blew out a breath. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  He was sorry about a lot of things. Sorry he was struggling to find work for his men. Sorry he hadn’t gone to the store when his mother had asked the day she’d died. Sorry he was unable to stop the woman he loved from marrying a stranger her parents had arranged. Sorry he put the hurt in Sophia’s eyes when she was being generous with a compliment.

  She’d called him a craftsman.

  A smile tugged his lips while unexpected warmth seeped into his chest. That was sweet of her. She seemed less rebellious, subdued even. But still sexy as hell. An image of her—wrapped in that damn towel—flashed through his mind. His dick twitched.

  Son-of-a-bitch.

  First, she caused movement in his chest, now below his belt.

  He was sorry he had to be rude to her, but not sorry he was rude. It was necessary, thanks to the crazy attraction still sizzling between them. With him scheduled to work with the set designer—her—throughout the summer, physical distance wasn’t an option. However, the same wasn’t true for emotional distance.

  Hopefully, she’d gotten the message and wouldn’t waste her time on him, because there was no way he could fight their chemistry for even a week, let alone several months.

  Ryder needed to create an invisible wall between them, and counted on his rudeness to lay the foundation for that barrier.

  He glanced at his wall calendar.

  Time would tell soon—real soon—if it worked.

  Two days from now, he was scheduled to meet her at the theater to discuss the project and timeline. With luck, Sophia would treat him with indifference. If not, he’d have no choice but to up the surly factor.

  Chapter Five

  After spending a day and a half on renderings to include the scene changes Phoebe had added, Sophia worked on ground plans—a bird’s eye view—for each scene. This gave her a good base to start her three-dimensional models for each set.

  Using the amazing set design room and all its resources, she managed to complete three and a half before Phoebe arrived ten minutes early for their meeting with Ryder.

  “Oh my God, Sophia, these are amazing.” Clapping her hands, the woman practically vibrated as she walked from model to model placed on the table where Sophia was finishing up the final one.

  She smiled. “Thanks. I’ve never been able to build them so fast before. I’m seriously in love with this room.”

  “The whole building is amazing.” Phoebe grinned. “I’m blessed.”

  “How’d rehearsal go?” she asked, rummaging through a bin of doll furniture, looking for a rocking chair and hay bale.

  She found both. Perfect.

  Phoebe cleared her throat. “That’s actually why I’m here.”

  Carrying them back to the table, she eyed her friend. “Something wrong?”

  “No. Actually, it’s going good,” Phoebe replied. “The cast wants to stay and rehearse a little longer. But I wanted to stop in first and see what you’ve come up with, and also to ask if you’d mind coordinating the schedule with Ryder? He’s going to basically be working with you, anyhow.”

  Sophia’s pulse hiccupped like it always did whenever someone mentioned the guy’s name. “Of course. No problem.” She grabbed the glue and proceeded to affix the rocking chair to the model, holding it in place a few seconds so it would stick.

  Now, if she could just get her stupid body under control before the man arrived, that’d be great. She glued the hay bale to the model, and held it in place.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it,” Phoebe said. “I’d better get back. See ya later.” With a quick nod, her friend turned and rushed out of the room.

  Given Ryder’s track record, he was liable to do the same thing when he discovered they were on their own tonight.

  Not her problem.

  She released the bale, then stood back to view the finished product, but the model came with her. The bale was stuck to the model and her hand.

  “Wow, you really take three-dimensional to a whole new depth,” Ryder said, walking toward her with a grin.

  The instant fluttering in her belly momentarily distracted her from the fact she wore her model as a glove. Shaking the fog from her head, she set the model back on the table and returned his grin. “Always looking for a way to stand out.”

  He frowned. “I thought you didn’t like to stand out.”

  “As a person, no, but as a set designer, yes. Standing out is good.” It was a necessity, in order to succeed. And she needed her hand in order to work. She was such an idiot.

  “Ah.” He came up behind her and reached for her hand. “Let me help.”

  Even if she’d wanted to tell him no—which she didn’t—it was impossible. The feel of his solid chest brushing her back dried her throat. Damn, he smelled great. Like soap and cedar, with a hint of some kind of spice.

 
Warm fingers covered hers, and the scrape of calluses on her skin sent a ripple of awareness straight up her arm. Where was his wall of indifference now? It usually sprang up between them before they ever got this close.

  “Just relax. Let me do all the work.”

  Her mind immediately went to a naughty place, and she had to fight hard to suppress the tremors that threatened.

  Back and forth, he gently tugged, until her hand was free. By that time, awareness spread to every blood vessel in her body, and every inch of her was aware of the change in his breathing.

  And the fact he still held her hand.

  She turned her head slightly to see his face. Heaven help her, his eyes had darkened to a stormy blue. Her heart rocked in her chest, disrupting her hold on those tremors.

  His jaw clenched, and a second later, he abruptly released her and stepped back. “You might want to wash the glue off your hand.”

  Unable to switch from aroused to indifferent as quickly as Ryder, she nodded and headed to the utility sink across the room. With distance between them, she regained control and the ability to breathe normally again.

  That was batshit crazy.

  As she washed and dried her hands, she pondered how to break it to the guy that they were on their own tonight. But since he was the one with the problem, and not her, she decided to treat it like it was no big deal. They were two adults working on a project. Turning around, she cleared her throat and walked back to her models, careful to keep the table between them, because…dammit, her body was still tingling. “Phoebe’s not coming.”

  His brows furrowed and panic briefly skittered through his eyes. But he didn’t take flight. “Is she all right?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “They’re rehearsing longer tonight. But, I already have her schedule. It’s on the wall there by the door. So you and I can come up with a game plan that fits into your schedule. I’m easy. I mean, flexible. Wide open.” Dammit. Heat rushed into her face. “What I’m trying to say is I’m available…I can come anytime. Seriously? Just kill me now.” She slapped a hand over mouth and shook her head, noting a smile tugging his lips.

  “Hey, are you Sophia and Ryder?” A teenager walked in, carrying a box of pizza and two bottles of water. “Phoebe told me to bring this to you.”

  Her friend must’ve ordered supper for the troops.

  “Yes. Thanks,” she said, and the boy set everything on the table by her, then left. “Well that was perfect timing.” She turned to Ryder and grinned. “I was getting tired of the taste of my foot. I’d much rather shove a piece of pizza in my mouth.”

  Chuckling, he grabbed two folded chairs stacked against the wall and carried them over. “I thought it was cute.”

  For the first time since she’d returned, he visibly relaxed. His shoulders and mouth were no longer stiff, and she was happy to adopt his friendly attitude. One should never underestimate the power of pizza.

  Over the next hour, they shared dinner and a few more laughs while hammering out a schedule that worked around his job. It didn’t take long for her to remember what had drawn her to the guy all those years ago―his wit and intelligence. Yeah, he was also gorgeous, but she’d grown up around handsome guys her whole life. In her world, they were plentiful. Ryder stood out. He was…more. And like his good looks, his wit and intelligence had also matured and increased.

  “These are amazing, Sophia.” He nodded to the sketches, plans, and models spread out on the table. “You’re very good.”

  His compliments sent a wave of warmth through her chest. He had a way of making her feel alive. Vibrant. No one else had ever made her feel so good about herself.

  “Thanks.” She wiped her hands off on her jeans, and stood. “I still have to work on elevations of each set.”

  Rising to his feet, he frowned. “Scaled sketches?”

  “Exactly. Once I finish those, then I can write down building instructions. There not just for you, though, they’re for everyone,” she rushed to explain.

  He nodded, no signs of offense in his eyes. “I would imagine you need to use lightweight material so the sets are easy to move.”

  “Yes. For the flats—backgrounds—we frame out paintable material like muslin.” She grabbed a pencil and paper and sketched out a quick diagram of a flat. After answering his questions about materials, she went on to briefly explain the construction of platforms and collapsible platforms, called parallels.

  He tapped the paper with his finger and smiled. “These will be great for the kids to construct.”

  “The college kids Phoebe mentioned?”

  “Yeah, I have a few interning with me over the summer,” he said. “Wish I could pay them, but at least they’re getting experience.”

  She nodded. “That’s how I started out in set design.” She’d worked for her father during the day, then spent hours at night volunteering her time and expertise at several theaters. “I was thrilled at the chance. Speaking of which, do you think you could find a few more who’d be interested in helping out?”

  He straightened and faced her, surprise lifting his brows. “Yeah. I’m sure the college has several that’d be interested.”

  “Perfect.” She smiled. “How about art students? I’d love to give a few locals the chance to tap into their skills and creativity, and help with the four backgrounds required in this production.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Absolutely.” She grinned at the incredulity in his tone. “I’m so grateful for the opportunities I was given. And now, I’m excited to be in the position to pay it forward.”

  An unrecognizable emotion flickered through his eyes, before a pleased expression settled in those mesmerizing blue depths. “That’s really great, Sophia. I’ll stop by the college this Friday.”

  “Can I go with you?” she asked. “I’d like to talk to the art teacher.”

  He nodded. “Of course. I’ll swing by here around ten to pick you up. Or will you be at the condo?”

  “I’ll be here. Thanks. I appreciate you hooking me up.”

  As soon as she said it, his gaze darkened, then dropped to her lips. Damn…that was the look that always revved her engines. All her good parts instantly sparked to life, and a shiver of heat rippled down to her toes.

  She didn’t remember their attraction being this strong.

  His smile slowly faded about the same time her heart rocked hard in her chest. They stood there, barely a foot apart, staring at each other. She didn’t dare to breathe, or blink. But she knew she needed to move. Trouble was, she couldn’t remember if moving away, or stepping closer was the right thing to do.

  His gaze was a stormy blue, no doubt reflecting his inner turmoil. She wanted to make him feel better, but the line between what she wanted and what he needed began to blur.

  A second later they lunged for each other.

  His hands were in her hair, holding her still while his mouth devoured hers in a kiss that was as demanding as it was giving. Deep, hungry, scintillatingly thorough, he proceeded to wipe every single thought from her mind, except one. More. She needed more.

  Cupping the back of his head, she brushed her tongue against his, remembering the exact stroke that used to drive him mad. A low, sexy sound rumbled deep in his chest, and one of his wonderful hands ran down her back to cup her ass and crush her closer.

  Another sexy sound emanated between them. This time it came from her. He had her vibrating with need, made her want things. Everything.

  God, she’d missed this heady rush…this out-of-control feeling.

  When he stiffened and suddenly released her, she blinked and grasped the table behind her for balance. “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?”

  Chapter Six

  With a mirthless laugh, Ryder shook his head. “Because it should’ve never started. I’m sorry, Sophia. That was my fault.” He made to walk away, but she grabbed his arm.

  “The hell it was.” Her chin rose and eyes flashed with indignation. “I was a fully particip
ating…participant in that kiss, too, Ryder.”

  Damn, she was beautiful, and that kiss just proved their explosive chemistry had nothing to do with wine or champagne all those years ago. Her gaze was locked on his mouth, and he could tell she wanted his on hers again.

  Bad idea.

  A piece of her long hair stuck to his stubbled jaw. He reached up to brush it away, but ended up wrapping the silky strand around his finger instead.

  Christ, he had no fucking clue what he was doing.

  That explained why he kissed her again. Another wild, off-the-hinges, tongues tangling, rock-his-world kiss that left him reeling when they broke apart for air. She leaned against the table, breathing ragged, gaze as dazed as he felt. Working to catch his breath, he stared at her lips, still wet from his kisses, and barely managed to refrain from pulling her in a third time.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  He drew in a deeper breath, then another, waiting for the axis to tip back and right his stupid world.

  Never fucking happened.

  Not good.

  It was time to go. “That can’t happen again.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Why not?”

  Jesus, now was not the time for her old rebellious nature to kick in. He straightened his spine. “You need to steer clear of me, Sophia.”

  “Kind of hard to do when we’re going to be working together.” Her tone was full of the same derision gleaming in her eyes.

  Muffling a curse, he scrubbed a hand over his face and stared hard at her. “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t.” That damn brow lifted again. “Enlighten me.”

  Hell, no. No way was he about to discuss their crazy-ass kisses, and the fact his whole world tilted.

  “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out,” he said, then twisted around and strode out the door.

  ***

  Sophia screwed the last screw in place, then set the drill down before stepping back to view the corkboard she’d just added to the wall. Perfect. She ordered a whiteboard as well, but it hadn’t arrived yet. For now, though, she was at least able to hang the corkboard so she had a place to pin a copy of her final sketches.