A.J. swallowed hard. “I’m happy to meet you, too, Lyss. Ryder has a lot of great things to say about you.”
She grinned at him, making A.J.’s heart do a funny little dance. “Is that right? Well, did he also tell you I make a mean chicken and dumplings? ‘Cause that’s what I’ve got for ya’ll tonight. You hungry?”
Not for food. But he nodded anyway. “Sure.”
Ryder, who had been silent throughout their meeting, suddenly came up behind A.J., pressing A.J.’s shoulder blades against that hard chest as he lightly circled A.J.’s waist with both hands. That deep, rumbly voice sounded right by A.J.’s ear. “I’m going to go change. You guys get acquainted. I’ll be right back.”
A.J. couldn’t think, let alone respond. Not when they were standing on either side of him, caging him between them. Ryder’s heat blanketed his back, his body a wall of solid muscle strong enough to hold A.J. up no matter how weak he got. Lyss’s inviting curves so tantalizingly close, her hand still caressing his jaw and neck, provided a temptation unlike anything A.J. had ever experienced before. Between the two of them, his mind just…stopped.
His mouth, unfortunately, didn’t.
“I kissed your husband,” A.J. gasped.
Mortified, he cringed, waiting for their anger.
But Lyss surprised him with a laugh. “I know,” she said with a cheeky little grin.
Ryder snorted. “He means today.”
A.J. sucked in a breath as Lyss glanced at Ryder over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “Oh?”
Ryder’s shoulders moved up and down in what must have been a shrug. “He was talking nonsense. It was the only way I could think of to shut him up.”
Lyss laughed again, meeting A.J.’s stunned gaze with a wink. She ran her hand down the length of his arm before threading their fingers together. “I’ll just bet that was the only reason. Come on, A.J. Let’s you and me go shoot the shit while Ryder gets all gussied up for us. Then you both can tell me all about this kiss.” Her eyes darkened, expression turning wicked in a heartbeat. “And, perhaps, even show me.”
Holy. Fuck.
Ryder chuckled, squeezing A.J.’s waist briefly before his heat went away. Lyss gave A.J.’s hand a tug and led him toward the amazingly spacious kitchen. His mind still in a fog, he blurted, “You’re not mad? I mean…you’re actually okay with this? You’re okay that…that I kissed him?”
Lyss shot him a perplexed look. “Why wouldn’t I be? Didn’t Ryder tell you what I said? Didn’t he threaten to drag your sorry ass here so we could tie you to the bed?”
A.J.’s mouth dropped open, but no words emerged. Lyss stopped, turning to face him again. She cupped his jaw, forcing him to look down into her eyes. Her expression was earnest, honest, and full of so much understanding it made A.J. want to collapse into her arms.
“A.J., honey, I meant what I said. Only thing that bothers me about you kissing him is that I didn’t get to watch.” She licked her bottom lip, slowly and deliberately, making A.J.’s lower belly contract with sudden lust. “He promised to let me watch, you know. But it doesn’t matter. You’re here, aren’t you? And now I get the chance to get to know the man who stole my husband’s heart so many years ago.”
He studied her face, her eyes, but saw no sign of reservation—or doubt. She was serious. Absolutely serious. Holy hell, what have I gotten myself into?
“I don’t understand,” he murmured softly.
Lyss caressed his cheek, smiling. “You don’t have to. There’s no rush, sugar. Whatever Ryder said to you—and I’m sure he was as blunt as a sledgehammer—was all true. But that doesn’t mean you have to go along with anything you don’t want, okay? Just know that, as far as I’m concerned, you’re more than welcome in our lives…and, if you want to be, in our bed. But we don’t have to talk about any of that tonight if you don’t want to, and nobody’s gonna force you to do anything, ever. You do what’s comfortable and nothing more. No pressure, no obligation, no nothing unless you want it to happen. Okay?”
Eventually, this entire encounter might stop feeling like a bad acid trip. Or a trip through the looking glass to Alice’s Wonderland. But for now, he would just have to let it go, pretend this all made sense, and take the opportunity to get to know this fascinating woman. He managed a smile, squeezed Lyss’s hand, and gestured toward the kitchen with his chin.
“Lead on, my lady. You lead, I’ll follow.”
Instead of looking happy, Lyss just…froze. And stared at him for a long, disconcerting moment, her eyes darting all over A.J.’s face, looking for something he couldn’t even begin to guess. Whatever it was, she seemed to find it, because a slow, sultry smile lit her gorgeous hazel eyes. She nodded once and led him into the kitchen without saying a word.
A.J.’s head was still spinning. Where’s the damn Cheshire Cat when you need him? Even a few cryptic hints would be easier to understand than what’s going on right now. But I’m here. And Ryder’s here. And Lyss is here, this gorgeous, incredible woman I just met…and want to know much, much better. So what if it’s an acid trip? So what if it’s a walking dream? I can still enjoy it along the way, can’t I?
You bet I can. Even though it’s going to suck when I wake up.
The small dining table sat in a nook defined by a gorgeous bay window, and the kitchen itself was an open u-shape with plenty of counter space. Lyss directed him to take a seat at the table, giving his shoulder a caress before heading toward the stove, where an enormous silver pot bubbled enticingly.
“Just need to make the biscuits,” she told him, bending down to retrieve a large baking sheet from a lower cabinet. She winced a little as she stood straight, making A.J. frown, but continued talking cheerfully as if it was nothing. “I’m using my Memaw’s recipe. Best biscuits you’ll ever eat, guarantee it.”
A.J. grinned. “Memaw?”
“That’s Georgian for ‘grandma,’” she said, flashing him a wink as she pulled a huge canister labelled flour out of the small pantry and set it down next to the baking sheet. She also pulled several smaller canisters out of a nearby cabinet and lined them up next to it. “Memaw was famous for her biscuits. Swore up and down it was an ancient family recipe, passed down from her mama, and her mama, and her mama before that.” She opened the fridge and retrieved a carton of eggs, flashing A.J. a saucy little smile. “We’re pretty sure she got the recipe from a Betty Crocker cookbook, but we let the old lady have her illusions, bless her heart.”
That made him laugh outright. Holy fuck, this woman was too fucking cute. Her accent went in and out, depending on the phrasing she used, with no rhyme or reason to it. He’d known the woman less than five minutes, and already he loved listening to her speak.
I could become addicted to that voice. A.J. suppressed a shudder.
He watched with interest as Lyss carefully wiped down the nearest countertop before spreading a generous amount of flour, a little sugar, and a few other spices right onto the faux marble surface. She built a little mountain of flour right in the middle of the space, then dug a small crater out of the center of it. She cracked not one, not two, but three large eggs into that crater before picking up a fork. After beating the eggs for a minute, she dug her hands into the mess and started mixing everything together.
“Be a doll, would you?” she said, glancing at A.J. over her shoulder. “I forgot to get the butter out.”
“Sure,” A.J. replied, rising instantly. He went to the fridge and found a one-pound package of real stick butter sitting on a shelf on the door. “Is this the kind you want?” he asked, holding it up for her inspection.
Lyss nodded. “Just set it on that cutting board right there. I’m almost done.”
A.J. did as ordered but didn’t return to the table. He rested one hip against the counter, watching Lyss work in silence for a moment. God, he wanted to listen to her talk some more. But what could he ask that wouldn’t get him into trouble? He decided to go for a safe topic.
“So, if you grew up in Geo
rgia,” he said, “how did you end up here?”
Lyss finished patting the dough into a mound, then rinsed her hands in the sink. “Always wanted to be a nurse,” she said, drying her hands on a towel. “I came from this little bitty town called Rockmart. Wasn’t much out there, of course. Went to Berry College over in Rome to get my nursing degree.”
“Wait,” A.J. said, “you went to college in Rome?”
“Rome, Georgia,” Lyss said with a laugh. “Berry is one of the best schools for nursing in the state, so when I got a scholarship to go there, you bet your ass I went for it. But, I also wanted to be an ER nurse, not just a floor nurse. I needed more schooling for that, and I didn’t want to stay at Berry anymore.”
“Why not?” A.J. asked curiously, surprised by the shadows he could hear darkening her voice.
Lyss met his gaze with a sour smile. “Lots of reasons. Anyhow, I decided to try to get into Baylor out here. They’re one of the best schools for medicine, as I’m sure you know. Did Ryder tell you that Tatum is my cousin? I know ya’ll went to college around the same time. So yeah, I called Tatum when I knew I wanted to try for a scholarship, and he helped me move out here. Had a big party once I got accepted, and I’ve been here ever since.”
“So you’re an ER nurse?”
Lyss nodded, pulling a knife from the block next to the cutting board. A.J. pretended fear, holding up both hands in mock-surrender, making her laugh. She pulled two sticks of butter from the package and started cutting up big cubes while she spoke.
“Yeah, I finally got all the necessary degrees and specialties about a year ago. I’m doing my nursing residency at Ben Taub right now.”
“What’s that?” He hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the city since he moved there. Easier to pretend his life hadn’t been completely up-ended if he just stayed in his office and worked all the time.
“The big county hospital. We get the overflow of uninsured folks from the private hospitals. Seen just about every type of person on the planet come through those ER doors, let me tell you. And it’s long hours, that’s for sure. But worth it. I just got off a double shift, actually. Sixteen hours of non-stop hippity-hop. Be glad to sit for a while, after this is done.”
“What?” A.J. scowled at her. “Are you telling me you just worked sixteen hours and now you’re making dinner?”
She blinked. “Well…yeah. Gal’s gotta eat, A.J. And Ryder just got off a long shift, too. Good food goes a long way toward soothing the soul, especially when you’re tired.”
“That’s not what I meant,” A.J. growled. Looking around, he spotted a bar stool tucked in the corner next to the fridge. He dragged it over, grabbed Lyss’s elbow, and plunked her down on it.
“I have to finish the biscuits,” she protested.
A.J. shook his head. “I’m making the biscuits. You can supervise and tell me what needs to be done. But you shouldn’t be standing there, exhausted off your ass, making dinner for us when you need to relax.”
“A.J., be serious…” she began.
“He’s right,” Ryder said right then, cutting her off. A.J. turned as Ryder walked up beside Lyss, wrapping one arm around her waist and bending for a kiss on her temple. “Let him help. You’re beat, beautiful. You shouldn’t be on your feet anymore.”
A.J. nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Holy God, the two of them looked magnificent together. Ryder had changed into tight-fitted jeans and a black tank top that left both of his chiseled arms on display. Now A.J. could see the tattoos Ryder’s work shirt had hidden, and Jesus, they were hot. Both arms were fully sleeved up to the elbow with a variety of interconnecting images and tribal symbols. A.J. wanted to run his tongue over every line, trace each dip and valley in those awesome biceps. And seeing Ryder casually rest a possessive hand on Lyss’s knee…
Swallowing, A.J. turned back to the cutting board. Lyss had been cutting each stick of butter into cubes about half an inch across, so he picked up where she’d left off. Clearing his throat, hoping his voice didn’t squeak, he spoke over his shoulder.
“What do I do with the butter once it’s cut?”
Lyss huffed out a sigh, but didn’t protest. “You have to mix it into the dough by hand. Just spread the cubes around as evenly as you can manage without melting them. They melt in the oven and make the biscuits all nice and flakey.”
A.J. nodded and got to work. Keep the conversation going, Johannes. Maybe they won’t notice the bulge in your jeans if they’re too busy talking. “So, how did you guys get together?” he asked, hoping to sound casual. “Ryder said you met in a night club.”
Lyss laughed. “Not much to tell, really. It was an opening night event for the club. Sid invited Ryder, and Tatum invited me. Tatum introduced us. Can’t thank him enough, actually.”
A.J. looked over in time to see her looking up at Ryder with so much emotion, it made A.J.’s heart hurt. He turned away quickly. “That’s really great. So you guys have been together…what? Four years?”
Ryder spoke up. “Married three. Together four. Although, with as busy as we’ve both been here recently, it feels like we see each other once a month.”
A.J. paused for a frown. “Yeah, I guess it must be hard, huh? I mean, you being a detective and you being a nurse and all. You guys both must have crazy schedules.”
“We do,” Ryder confirmed. “In fact, tonight is our first evening home together since last weekend.”
A.J. looked over sharply. “What? Why didn’t you say something? I should get out of your hair…”
“Nonsense,” Lyss asserted, waving a hand dismissively. “I told you, A.J., I’ve been waiting for the chance to meet you. You couldn’t have called at a better time. You’re staying right here.”
“What she said,” Ryder echoed with a quirk to his lips.
A.J. sighed, shaking his head, but he was smiling. “All right, if you say so. Here, I think this is done.” He gestured toward the dough, which now looked like it had little gold nuggets scattered through it. “What now?”
“Grab my cutting glass, will you, Ryder?” Lyss said. “And the rolling pin.”
Ryder nodded, squeezing her knee briefly before opening a cabinet next to the fridge. He pulled out a water glass, then retrieved the rolling pin from a stand next to the breadbox. Handing both to A.J., Ryder gave him a wink. “Glass is to cut rounds from the dough. Rolling pin is usually used to flatten it, although Lyss's Memaw seems to think it works better for beating sense into male brains.”
A.J. snorted. “Bet she found that near-impossible with you.”
Ryder brandished the rolling pin, a severe scowl on his face, making A.J. and Lyss laugh. Shaking his head, he set the rolling pin down, swiped a hand through the flour left on the counter—
And slapped A.J.’s ass. Hard.
“That’s for getting all snarky with me,” Ryder said mildly, talking right over A.J.’s astonished gasp. He moved in close. “One infraction, one handprint. I’ll go for your shirt, next.”
A.J. stared at the countertop, unable to move. Unable to breathe. There was a white handprint on his ass. From Ryder. A handprint that neither Ryder nor Lyss would let him brush off. He had no idea how he knew that, but he did.
“Now there’s a sight I’d like to see,” Lyss purred, drawing A.J.’s eyes toward her. She smirked at him. “If it comes to that, though, I think I’ll ask Ryder to take your shirt off, first. The flour will stand out better against your dark skin than it will against that T-shirt, don’t you think?”
They were going to kill him. A.J. cleared his throat uncomfortably while Ryder chuckled. The other man slid the rolling pin across the counter, patted A.J.’s shoulder, and moved away. “You were about to say, A.J.?”
Was he? His brain cells had gone south the moment Ryder touched him. He shook himself, cleared his throat, and took up the rolling pin with a white-knuckled grip.
“Uh…yeah, umm…” He stopped, tried again. “Sounds like you have an…interesting family, Lyss.” Both of
them laughed, making A.J. smile. “Do they all live in Georgia?”
“’Fraid so,” Lyss said, her voice filled with mock-suffering. Ryder moved back to her side, and though A.J. couldn’t see them, he knew they were both staring at the handprint on his jeans. “Whole damn tribe lives in Rockmart. My branch of the family is full of homebodies. Can’t pry those people out of that state with a crowbar. Biggest place they’ve ever been is Atlanta.”
A.J. hid another smile. She said it like it was two distinct words—“At Lanta.” He started smoothing out the dough, planning to ask more questions, but Lyss beat him to it.
“What about you, A.J.? Ryder said you grew up in El Paso. Got lots of family out there?”
A.J. shook his head, keeping his gaze locked on his task. “Just Mom, now. Dad passed away five years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ryder said, his voice a sympathetic rumble. “What happened?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Heart attack. He was a city council member. Got voted on after he retired from the Border Patrol. There was a lot going on during the year he died. We believe stress exacerbated a heart condition that hadn’t been diagnosed. But we don’t know for sure.”
“That’s sad,” Lyss said. “So, your daddy was in law enforcement, too?”
“Yes,” A.J. agreed, ignoring the familiar ache of loss. “That’s how he and my mom met, actually.”
“Meaning what?” Lyss asked.
A.J. gave her a half-smile. “Back before the immigration crisis, some of the Border Patrol officers were more lenient. My mother was being sent back to Colombia because of an expired work Visa. She didn’t have any family out there, no one to go back to. So, he helped her get an extended Visa and helped her find a job with a cleaning company. She started cleaning his house for free as a way to say thank you. They fell in love and had me. The rest is history.”
“That’s sweet, though,” Lyss said warmly. “Sounds like a proud little family, especially after you came along.”
Saints United [For Love of Authority 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 11