by Rachel Lacey
“Dammit, Emma,” he rasped, sucking in a deep breath. He only used her full name when he was rattled. She’d noticed that over the course of the last month.
Dammit indeed. He wasn’t going to kiss her, and she was so frustrated she wanted to scream. Instead, she lifted her hand from his biceps and jabbed a finger against his chest. “You don’t get a say in who I do or don’t date.”
His big, warm hand closed over hers, flattening it against the firm expanse of his chest. “I damn well do. Your brother would turn over in his grave if I let you date a guy like Todd Pierce.”
There he went, playing the Derek card again. “If he were here, he wouldn’t be able to stop me any more than you can.”
* * *
“You can’t possibly—” Ryan heard voices a moment before Mark and Ethan turned the corner.
They stopped dead in their tracks and stared.
Ryan looked from the guys to Emma as the hallway sizzled with a heavy silence. He was acutely aware that Emma’s hand was on his chest, still engulfed in his. And they were standing way too close. For one long, awkward moment, they just stared at each other. Then she scooted backward, mumbled a hasty good-bye, and headed for the door.
“Whoa,” Ethan said once she’d gone. “You and Emma? Where the fuck did that come from?”
Ryan shook his head. “Not what you’re thinking.”
“I know what I saw.” A wide grin spread across his buddy’s face. “You two were looking at each other like you were about two beats from jumping in the sack together, and while I totally did not see this coming, I kind of dig the idea of you guys together.”
Mark nodded in agreement, looking suspiciously as if he was fighting a smile of his own.
“We are not together,” Ryan said, pushing past them to go get a drink from the water cooler in the lobby. “In fact, we were arguing about her choice of men on Tinder.”
“You hear this?” Ethan said to Mark.
Mark shook his head with a smile. “I hear it. Don’t believe a word of it.”
“I’ve got to go secure the equipment for the night, but this definitely calls for beers at Rowdy’s later,” Ethan said.
“Agreed.” Mark headed for the door.
Ryan, finding himself completely tongue-tied where Emma was concerned, followed them out, headed for the ropes course to see if Trent was still there getting rid of that downed branch. He found the kid seated on the rope bridge, feet dangling, cell phone in hand. He wore ear buds, his head bobbing to whatever music he had going. The hand saw lay discarded on the bridge beside him.
Ryan’s temper reared up like an angry beast. He wasn’t a stickler about work. He and the guys goofed around plenty, but they also worked their asses off out here. Maybe hiring his brother had been a mistake because now he was going to have to give the kid a lecture, and he’d rather Trent learn this lesson from an employer who wasn’t also the brother trying to find a way back into his life for good.
He stopped below the rope bridge and looked up, waiting for Trent to notice him.
“Oh, hey,” Trent said finally, shoving the phone and ear buds into the pocket of his hoodie. “I just finished with that branch. Took me all afternoon.”
“Shouldn’t have taken more than an hour or so,” Ryan said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Oh, uh…” Trent shrugged awkwardly.
“You know we don’t have any rules about cell phones out here, but every single time I’ve come out to check on you today, man, you’ve been goofing off. You smoked weed while you’re on my dime. If you were anyone but my brother, I’d have fired you on the spot.” He kicked at a rock on the path and sent it soaring toward the woods.
Trent straightened, temper sparking in his dark eyes. “Well, don’t let that hold you back.”
“Come down from there so we can talk.” Ryan grabbed the downed branch Trent had disentangled, carrying it to the edge of the clearing to toss it into the woods. He needed to watch himself right now because a healthy portion of his current mood had to do with what had just gone down between him and Emma, not Trent.
By the time he’d gotten rid of the branch, Trent had climbed down from the rope bridge, saw in hand. “I don’t need your charity. If you want to fire me, go ahead and do it.”
“I don’t.” Ryan scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I don’t want to fire you at all, but you’ve got to start pulling your weight around here. And if I ever catch you lighting up out here again, you’re done. Are we clear?”
“I could get a job somewhere else,” Trent said, his chin up.
“You could, but I think you’ll find that working out here beats the pants off busing tables or ringing up groceries at the supermart.” Ryan paused. “I want you to work here, Trent, but you’ve got to do the job I’m paying you for.”
His brother deflated some then, tugging his beanie lower over his ears. “Fine.” He headed off in the direction of the house.
Ryan watched him go, pulsing with frustration and restless energy. He debated going for a climb, but he’d have to go back to the house and get his gear, and by then the guys would be ready to hit Rowdy’s. He’d just have to endure their ribbing about Emma and hope a few beers would be enough to make it bearable.
He had to get a handle on himself where Emma was concerned. If he could just hold her off long enough, this attraction between them was sure to fizzle. She’d find someone new, and he’d hook up with another woman—and he and Emma could go back to being just friends. Because if they slept together? Forget it. That would change everything, and he’d never forgive himself if he fucked up their friendship because he was thinking with his dick.
Thirty minutes later, he, Ethan, and Mark were seated at their usual table, a pitcher of beer and a platter of wings between them, and—ribbing or not—Ryan felt his tension leaking away after a few good laughs with his buddies.
“So back to this thing with Emma,” Ethan said after they’d moved on to their second pitcher.
“There is no thing,” Ryan answered, reaching for another wing.
“We definitely saw something,” Mark commented. “And it’s not the first time I’ve seen it. There’s been kind of a vibe between you two lately.”
“It was the first time I saw it,” Ethan said. “But I’m telling you, if we hadn’t walked in and interrupted you…”
Ryan shrugged. “Maybe there was a vibe, or whatever. But that’s all it is, and all it’s going to be.”
“Why’s that?” Mark asked.
“Yo, we’re talking about Emma here.” He shook his head, taking another gulp of his beer.
“Is this about Derek?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah, partly. I made a promise before he went off to war that I’d look out for her, and more specifically, that I wouldn’t go after her.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that made sense when she was fifteen, but you’re both consenting adults now.”
Pretty much what Emma had said. “Doesn’t change the fact that she and I have been friends, practically family, since we were kids. If I sleep with her, sooner or later things will go south and she’ll end up hating me.”
“That a common problem you have?” Mark asked drily.
“No, but I don’t date chicks like Emma. I just hook up. You know, keep it casual. Emma’s not a casual, hookup kind of girl, and I won’t take advantage of her.”
“You have a point there.” Ethan bit into another wing. “But on that note, when’s the last time you did hook up with someone?”
Ryan took a drink from his beer to avoid having to answer that question.
“Not sure I’ve seen you with a woman since I got back in town,” Mark said. “Other than Emma, of course.”
Ryan shrugged. “I’ve been busy, between Off-the-Grid and tending bar…”
“Too busy to get laid?” Ethan’s eyebrows arched.
Ryan snatched a wing from the platter and bit into it.
Mark glanced across the table at Ethan. “It�
�s worse than we thought.”
Ethan nodded. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you with a woman other than Emma either. Damn. I had no idea you were this hung up on her. How long’s it been, man?”
Too fucking long. Ryan finished eating his wing, flipped Ethan the bird, and lifted his beer.
“Interesting.” Ethan took a drink from his own beer. “So why are you so sure you couldn’t have something real with her, something more than a hookup?”
Ryan took another drink from his beer. “Emma’s got this thing right now where she’s trying to shake things up. She wants to get a tattoo and date outside her comfort zone. I think it’s a dare her friends put her up to. But this isn’t who she is, and sooner or later she’s going to come to her senses.”
“You sure about that?” Ethan asked with humor in his eyes.
Ryan grimaced. “She’s looking up guys on Tinder…shady guys. I don’t know how to stop her.”
“I know how.” Ethan was laughing now.
Even Mark was grinning from ear to ear.
“Yo, I’m not sleeping with Emma. You assholes are supposed to back me up here.”
Chapter Seven
Ryan had a problem. A big, fucking problem.
A problem he’d spent the last hour jogging the twisting streets of Haven trying to tame, but it was no use. His sexual frustration had reached epic proportions. He’d given Emma her second rock climbing lesson earlier today, and an hour spent staring at her ass in that harness was more than a man could take. Right now, he was coiled so tight he was about to jump out of his own skin. After that first night on his bike, the night they’d almost kissed, he’d set a ground rule for himself: no fantasizing about Emma.
Fantasizing about her would only make him want her even more, and he needed to get her out of his head as fast as possible so he was not going there.
Problem was, since that night, he couldn’t get off without thinking about her. He’d tried every distraction he could think of, but as soon as he got down to business, his mind filled with images of Emma, imagining her on his bike…beneath him in bed…her hand on his dick…
And fuck it.
He hadn’t had any relief now in a long, fucking time.
But he’d come to pride himself on his self-control, and he’d get through this. His attraction to Emma would fade soon, as long as he didn’t give in to it. It had to. Any day now, some other chick would catch his eye, and he’d make up for lost time.
In the meantime…
He jogged until his body was spent then went home and took a long, cold shower. At least he was bartending at The Drunken Bear later tonight. That ought to provide a healthy distraction from Emma and his libido.
* * *
Emma reached for her beer and took a lengthy sip. Across the table, her date did the same. Calvin Rocha aka Outdoorsy Bearded Guy from Tinder flashed her an easy smile. They’d messaged with each other for a few days, so when he asked her to dinner at The Drunken Bear, she’d happily accepted. Okay, maybe she’d been partially motivated by her hope that Ryan would be tending bar tonight so he could see firsthand that she was serious about dating. That she’d moved on. She’d even worn one of the new dresses she’d bought on her very successful shopping spree with the girls last weekend.
But Ryan wasn’t here.
And Calvin was sweet…but her heart wasn’t in it.
“So what do you do for work?” she asked, offering him what she hoped was a cheerful smile.
“I’m a wildlife rehabilitator,” Calvin said, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes. “I work at the Bear Tracks Institute in Silver Springs.”
“Oh, that’s so cool. What kinds of animals do you work with?” This time, she knew her smile was genuine because, aww, he worked with wild animals! That was really amazing and also kind of adorable.
“Pretty much anything you find in the Smoky Mountains National Park. We’ve got orphaned bear cubs, deer, raccoons, snakes. I’m rehabbing a red-tailed hawk right now. Came in with a broken wing, but she’s almost ready to fly again.” He reached for his burger.
“That is really amazing. Wow.”
“It’s pretty cool, yeah,” he answered, a smile crinkling his brown eyes. “No two days are ever alike, that’s for sure.”
“I like that about my job, too.” Emma reached for her own burger and took a big bite. The more she got to know Calvin, the more she liked him. They had things in common, and he was really cute, not to mention a perfect gentleman. The only problem was, she didn’t like him. There was no spark, not for her at least. But she totally wanted to set one of her friends up with him.
“I could give you a tour of the facility if you’re interested,” he offered with another easy smile.
“I’d love that.”
“You’d like Nancy. She’s one of our bear cubs. Cute little thing, but watch your back because she’s a pickpocket. She lifted my cell phone last week and prank called my mom.”
Emma laughed so hard she almost snorted beer up her nose.
“She’s a character, all right.” Calvin’s brows bunched. “I’m pretty sure the bartender is throwing some major shade our way. He your ex or something?”
Emma glanced at the bar, and her gaze collided with Ryan’s. It zapped her system with a ridiculous burst of heat and sparks. So he was here tonight after all. But instead of feeling giddy about rubbing his nose in her date with Calvin, she just felt mad. Because she couldn’t even enjoy her date, and it was all his fault. Well, her fault really for letting herself get so hopelessly hung up on him, but right now, it felt better to blame him for her misery. “Oh, um, something like that.”
“He needs to chill,” Calvin commented, taking a big bite out of his burger.
“Yeah, he really does. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d be working tonight.” Which was technically true, but now she felt terrible for hoping he would be, because she hadn’t considered that it might be awkward for Calvin. What a disaster. She shot Ryan a pointed look.
He glared back at her, the heat of his stare enough to make her body sizzle. She felt it even after she’d turned her attention back to her date, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck that let her know Ryan was watching.
Which made her even angrier. If he didn’t want her dating other guys, if he was jealous, then he needed to quit acting like a big baby and do something about it. And if not? He needed to butt the hell out of her dating life and stop acting like an overprotective ogre.
“So what do you like to do for fun?” Calvin asked, seemingly willing to ignore the situation with Ryan.
They enjoyed the rest of their meal together, or Calvin seemed to anyway. Emma tried her best, but she was completely distracted by Ryan’s presence and the annoying prickle of his gaze on the back of her neck. Which meant she was thinking about Ryan instead of her date, and that was just ridiculous. Next time, she’d insist on going somewhere other than The Drunken Bear.
Maybe a change of scenery would help, or maybe her mind would be on Ryan regardless. And that was pathetic. And it sucked. And it made her want to strangle him…or kiss him…or something.
“This was really nice,” she said as Calvin walked her to her car after dinner. She fiddled awkwardly with her keys. Shit. Was he going to try to kiss her? Because…
But Calvin shoved his hands in his pockets, offering her an apologetic smile. “I had a great time. And I’d love to give you that tour at Bear Tracks if you’re interested. But before I take you to dinner again, you’ve got to work out whatever’s between you and the bartender.”
Emma’s cheeks flushed hot despite the cool evening breeze. She ducked her head and blew out a breath. “Yes, you’re right. I’m so sorry.”
“No worries,” Calvin said, turning to walk away. “Call me if things change.”
“I will. Thanks, Calvin.” She got in her car and sat there for a few minutes, fuming. This was so ridiculous. She’d just ruined a perfectly good date with a perfectly nice—and not at all bori
ng—guy because of Ryan.
Ugh.
She thumped her fist against the steering wheel, and then—because clearly she’d lost her mind—she stormed back inside The Drunken Bear, heading straight for the bar. Ryan looked up, the intensity of his gaze slamming into her like a tidal wave.
She walked straight to him, leaning in with her elbows on the bar, so mad she felt like slapping him. “You’re an asshole.”
He blinked, seemingly at an uncharacteristic loss for words. His gaze scorched her, and for a moment, she thought he was going to reach right across the bar and kiss her. But of course, that didn’t happen. Instead, he took a step back, and his gaze shuttered. “You’re right. I am.”
Now she blinked. She’d been itching for a fight, and since he wasn’t giving her one, she had no idea what to do. “Do me a favor and keep your nose out of my dating life from now on.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. But take your next date somewhere else.”
“Oh, that’s a definite.”
“Em—”
“Just don’t, Ryan.” She looked up at the ceiling, mortified to feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes. Why this man? Of all the men in the world, why this one?
In an instant, his hand snaked out and covered hers. “I’m sorry. Really.” And when she met his gaze, she saw the truth of his words in his eyes. He was sorry, whether for ruining her date or for not dating her himself, she wasn’t sure. In the long run, what did it matter?
Ryan could never be more than her friend, and the sooner she got that message through her thick skull, the better, for everyone involved.
* * *
Ryan walked inside The Music Factory at nine o’clock on Tuesday, feeling like he’d just stepped back in time. The place looked exactly the same as it had when he, Ethan, and Mark had frequented the place as teenagers: scuffed wood floors, dim lighting, and techno music pumping, even at this relatively early hour.