by Joann Baker
Oh, my stars, Georgia thought, her bones were dissolving. This kiss was… divine. Her arms lifted, the pain forgotten, to rest on Ryder’s shoulders as she savored the feel, the taste, the very essence of his kiss.
Almost from the moment she’d met him, she’d wondered if his kiss would produce the same sizzle she felt when he was present with her. That query had certainly been put to rest, she thought hazily as his tongue stroked hers, sending tremors of longing to every part of her body.
After several seconds, he broke the delicious contact and she moaned in protest. A wicked grin curved the mobile lips that had given her such pleasure. It seemed his hands weren’t the only thing he was good with.
She wondered what else… She quickly shook away that thought. “I should get this mess cleared away.” She stepped back, striving for a calm she was far from feeling. Her poor heart was about to beat out of her chest while her womanly parts were on red alert.
“I’ll help you.”
“That’s not—”
“Hey,” his finger touched her lips, forcing her to stop biting the tender flesh, “I helped make it, so I’ll help clean it up.”
“But I’m sure you have other things to do.”
He shrugged. “Nothing that can’t wait.”
Nodding, she turned away. Quickly grabbing the things they’d used, she fled to the kitchen.
While she rinsed the paint brushes and rollers, Ryder put away the ladder and rolled up the plastic she’d used for a drop cloth. Being sensitive to smells, she wasn’t using oil based paint, so the cleanup was pretty easy.
She had just washed her hands when Ryder joined her once again in the kitchen. She turned toward him as he advanced. She tried to control her breathing, but it wasn’t easy. Weakness invaded her limbs and her hands clutched at the countertop for support. Although she’d had her fair share of dates in the past, she wasn’t used to spending time in such close quarters with men. Most of her dates were what she liked to call buddy events—movies, bowling, county fairs. Somehow, with Ryder, the ordinarily loathsome act of painting had turned into an intimate nerve-wracking experience.
“Would you like some more tea? Or something to eat, maybe?”
Darn it, she should have asked that sooner. But since they’d gotten such a late start, she’d assumed he’d had supper already. She’d choked down a cheese sandwich when she’d gotten home from work, too nervous to eat much else.
“No, I’m fine. Pops made a chicken casserole for dinner.” He moved close enough to touch and she froze. “I would like to wash some of this paint from my hands, though.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Automatically, she began to move to the side. As she did, he stepped forward, trapping half her body between him and the counter.
Ryder bit back a curse at the feel of her lush body against the length of his. He’d hoped to relax her with the flirty move. Instead, he’d was the one tensing up. Heat, that damnable heat low in his body, was pulsing, tightening to the point of pain.
Had his body ever reacted so strongly to a woman before?
He didn’t know and couldn’t think. The only thing that kept him from taking things further was the deer-in-the-headlights look in the wide green eyes that stared up at him. While his body urged him to do a hell of a lot more than kiss her again, his mind recognized the look of innocence. It was one he hadn’t seen in a very long time on a woman. Slow and steady, he reminded himself, just like gaining the trust of a skittish filly.
“You have paint right here.” One long finger wiped gently at a spot just above her left eye. Forcing himself to step away, he moved to the side and reached for the faucet handle. Hot or cold?
Cold. Definitely cold.
He concentrated on washing his hands, giving his body time to cool down.
He turned, meeting her eyes and his hands clenched around the towel she’d provided to dry his hands on. He’d bet a dollar against a dime that she had no idea how much her expression revealed. That she was attracted to him was evident in the pebbled nipples poking against the soft tee-shirt that she wore. But it was the dreamy look on her face, the one that said he was the object of her immediate desire that had his body hardening all over again.
Forcing himself to move, he placed the towel in her hand, gently curling her fingers around it. His free hand lifted, skimming lightly up the smooth column of her neck to cup her cheek. Tingles raced up his arm, shooting straight to his groin, but leaving a pleasant warmth in the center of his chest. “Goodnight, Georgie.”
She blinked, her eyes still beautiful behind the ugly black glasses. “I… I hate to send you away hungry.”
Ryder fought the urge to chuckle. He wondered if she had any idea just how hungry he really was? Or what he was hungry for. She was either the best actress not in Hollywood or the most innocent woman on the face of the earth.
Dropping his hand he stepped back, away from the tempting curve of her lips. “I’d better go, honey, before I forget that I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
Georgia watched from the window as he climbed into the big truck and drove away. Walking back to the kitchen, she tried to convince herself that she’d done the right thing in letting him go. She was sure her sisters would laugh at her abysmal response to Ryder’s practiced charm. The problem was, she was a novice when it came to the fine art of seduction.
For the first time in her life, she wished it were otherwise.
CHAPTER THREE
IT WAS JUST a kiss, Georgia reminded herself as she got out the painting supplies the next evening. A spectacular kiss to be sure, but still only a kiss. One that she might have trouble forgetting, but one that, she was sure, hadn’t kept Ryder awake most of the night thinking about it.
The truth was, she’d wanted that kiss, thought about it from the moment she’d first seen the tall cowboy. And now that she’d kissed him once, she wanted to kiss him again. And that just wouldn’t do.
Even though she’d moved to Devil’s Spur to broaden her horizons—and yes, widen the dating pool—that didn’t mean she wanted to have her heart broken by some sweet-talking cowboy. No, she was searching for a man who looked at her like her father still looked at her mother—even after three children and twenty-five years of marriage.
But, that wasn’t the only reason she’d moved here. She wanted to expand her professional life as well. Being head librarian, even in a library as small as the one in Devil’s Spur, was a great addition to her resume. So, she needed to concentrate on her work and building her life in the small community. Finding someone to love would come eventually as her mother was always telling her.
That don’t mean you can’t have some fun.
She ignored the voice inside her that usually got her in hot water.
Being around Ryder made it hard to focus on anything except her overwhelming attraction to him. Best to keep things on a friendly footing so that when the painting was complete and he returned to his life and circle of friends that most definitely did not include a mousy librarian; her heart would still be intact.
Tonight she would begin in the kitchen. Ryder hadn’t said anything about coming over and, after last night, she really wasn’t expecting him. More than likely, he was off somewhere putting those practiced moves on someone a lot savvier about the modern day interactions of a man and a woman instead of wasting his time on her. She’d acted like a Victorian maiden from a regency romance novel. If her sisters had seen her reaction to his kiss, they’d have laughed their perfect size two asses off.
Setting up the large sheet of plastic as a drop cloth, she placed the ladder a little way away from the wall, hoping by doing so she wouldn’t have to get up and down so much. Climbing the steps carefully, she placed the gallon of paint on the shelf built into the ladder for just that purpose. The paint can was almost full, and the weight made the ladder wobble just a little. She looked down to discover that she had one of the ladder’s legs sitting on a wrinkled throw rug she’d forgotten to move out of the way before she�
��d put down the plastic.
She groaned, not wanting to get down again just yet. Surely the rug wouldn’t throw the balance off too badly. Besides, she knew she wouldn’t be getting any type of backrub for her sore muscles tonight. Sliding the half size roller into the bucket, she decided to paint the trim that she could reach and then move the ladder from the rug. She’d just have to be extra careful on this particular stretch of wall.
˜**˜
Ryder left the Ace in the Hole early, needing to get to his grandfather’s store to pick up some tile for Georgia’s kitchen. He was still off-kilter from the kiss they’d shared the night before, but it wasn’t going to make him shirk his duties. Not that being around Georgie could be considered a hardship in any way.
He pulled up to the loading dock in the back of the store and hurried inside. The two men who had worked for his granddad for years called out a greeting that he quickly returned. Grabbing a cart near the back of the store, he headed to the tile section. Unlike bigger chain stores several hours away, his grandfather didn’t carry a wide selection of tile so the choice was relatively easy. Tan colored tiles with swirls of a deeper brown or a tiny hint of green. He chose the ones with the green, thinking they matched Georgia’s eyes just a little.
Mentally calculating how much he’d need, he loaded the boxes and headed for the cement board to put on top of the floor along with the sacks of mortar he’d need. He’d come back later for the grout. In fact, he could probably skip everything this trip but the backer board since that would take the rest of the evening to install.
Well, maybe not the rest of the evening, if things went according to plan. And the plan was for him to get another taste of Georgia’s sweet lips. He made his way to the cash register and sighed when he saw his grandfather still there. Did the man work twenty-four hours a day? He shouldn’t have been surprised. He had, after all, instilled the same work ethic in all three Anderson brothers.
“Hi, Gramps.”
His grandfather frowned at him. “What are you doing here this time of day? Is something wrong at the ranch?”
“No, just took off a little early. I decided Pop’s house could use a little more work than just the painting.” He nodded toward the cart. “Got some tile here I need to pay for.”
Silas rubbed his chin. “Can’t rightly remember but I thought that the kitchen floor was in good shape.”
Ryder ignored the older man and began placing the items on the counter. Silas started to whistle as he rang them up. When Ryder reached for his wallet to pay for everything, the older man took his money with a broad smile.
As he handed back his change, the wily man said, “I hear that new Chinese restaurant over on Appleton Street has pretty decent takeout.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Now, if I was a younger man that might be something I’d pick up on the way out to a pretty girl’s house. You’re bound to work up an appetite laying that new tile.”
Ryder grunted and reloaded the cart. Silas laughed as he walked away without answering. “I’ll be sure and tell your brothers not to wait up for you, boy.”
Ryder ignored his grandfather’s ribbing and maneuvered the full cart through the wide double doors. Outside, he quickly loaded the boxes, the board and the other supplies he’d purchased into the truck bed before climbing into the cab. The engine purred to life. He quickly shifted gears and headed down Main Street toward the turn that would take him to Georgia’s. He was not, he assured himself, going to do as his grandfather not-so-subtly suggested and stop for takeout. He didn’t even know if she liked Chinese food. There would be no point anyway, he decided, since she’d probably already eaten. His brow crinkled. She’d mentioned a cheese sandwich the other night, so he most assuredly was not…
Damn it, who was he trying to kid? Taking the next right, he drove across the deserted street, through the alley and onto Appleton, parking in front of the new restaurant. Inside, he waited in line behind several couples, taking the opportunity to study the menu on the wall. Once he stepped up to the counter, he placed his order, selecting a little bit of everything since he didn’t have any idea what she’d like.
His mind quickly turned to other things she might like. Horseback riding in the snow. A picnic at sunset. Soft kisses in the rain. His touch?
His palms began to sweat as his thoughts heated and he had to rub them against his denim covered thighs before he could pay for the food.
Tonight, he promised himself. Tonight he would find out all those things and more about Georgia Stevens.
˜**˜
Georgia wiped the tears from her eyes as she moved slowly to the couch. How could she have been so stupid as to fall off a ladder? She looked down at her foot where the flesh around her ankle had already begun to swell. She’d overextended her arm trying to paint as much trim as possible before having to move the dratted ladder and had taken a hard fall when the rug beneath the ladder slid. It hadn’t helped that she’d climbed up to the very top rung—the one that specifically directed the person using it not to do. She’d known as soon she’d felt the ladder wobble that first time that she should have gotten down and straightened out the damn rug. But she’d thought she could wait.
Easing herself onto the couch, she winced as she sat down. Not only had she twisted her ankle as she’d fallen but she’d also hit the edge of the kitchen counter with her hip. It could have been worse, she realized. It could have been her head that had hit the counter. And who would have found her then?
More tears welled up in her eyes as she put her hands on either side of her calf, lifting her leg to place it on the coffee table. Had she made a foolish mistake in moving to a place where no one really knew her well enough to check on her? Where no one cared if she hurt herself? Or killed herself in a fluke painting accident?
“Crap,” she muttered, looking down at her denim shorts. White paint had flown everywhere when the ladder had fallen. She knew she needed to get up, put some ice on her ankle and clean up the mess, but she couldn’t. Right now, all she wanted to do was cry at her pain and the mess she’d gotten herself into. Leaning her head back on the couch, she closed her eyes and let the tears run down her cheeks. Maybe in a few minutes she’d leave her pity party, but for now, it felt good to revel in it. She rarely allowed herself to ride the woe-is-me-train, but for once, she wasn’t going to put on the brakes.
˜**˜
Ryder’s gut was tied in knots by the time he arrived at Georgia’s house. The Chinese takeout sat on the seat beside him. He’d also picked up a six-pack of beer and some sodas at the convenience store on his way out of town. Pulling up in front of the porch, he let the engine idle for a few seconds before he cut it off. Was he making a mistake in trying to take the attraction he felt for Georgia to the next level? It was no secret that he loved women, and Georgia was as sweet and pretty as a peach. What red-blooded man wouldn’t be attracted to her? But his reaction to Gabe’s comments the other day still bothered him. As did the soul-stirring reaction to the kiss he’d been unable to forget.
So how was he going to convince this particular woman that he wasn’t just angling to get her into bed?
His brow furrowed as he carried the food and drinks up the wide steps and onto the porch. This would definitely be a time when a mother would come in handy, he thought, putting the beer he carried under his left arm. He’d just raised his hand to knock when a sound from inside froze the action. He tilted his head, listening intently. There it was again. Georgia was crying.
Without bothering to knock, he grabbed the knob, saying a silent thanks that the door was unlocked. Turning the knob forcibly, he entered the room in three long strides. Her wide eyes mirrored her surprise at his abrupt entrance.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
The tears spiking her long lashes did funny things to his insides. “That’s not an answer.” He moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the bluish tint to her rapidly swelling ankle. “What happ
ened?”
“I…” Georgia sniffed, embarrassed that her tears were falling faster at Ryder’s gentle concern. “I wanted to get a good start on the kitchen. When I climbed the ladder, I realized I’d left a rug underneath. Stupidly, I didn’t get back down to move it. The ladder slid, and I ended up falling off.”
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He sat the food and drinks on the coffee table away from her injured foot.
“My… my hip.”
“You didn’t hit your head, did you?” Kneeling by the table, he gently probed her ankle, murmuring softly, soothingly, as she jerked in pain.
“No. Besides my ankle and hip, the only other thing injured is my pride.”
“I would say I told you so, but that wouldn’t help.” His wide grin attempted to hide his worried expression.
“And if you did, I’d say I still have two good arms to throw things at you.”
“On that note, I’m going to the kitchen to make you an ice pack.”
Georgia watched his gorgeous backside cross the room, only finding her voice when he stepped into the hallway. “Watch out for the spilled paint.”
Even though her foot and hip still throbbed, she felt much better now that Ryder was there. His arrival had sent her from tears to smiles and she couldn’t help but wonder why. Was it simply the presence of another human being? The comfort of knowing someone else was there? Or was it the man himself?
“I couldn’t find an ice pack, so this will have to do.” He held up a plastic baggie filled with ice cubes. He wrapped a clean dishcloth around it and placed the makeshift bag gently on her injured ankle. “I don’t think it’s too bad, but you’ll need to stay off it for a couple of days.”
“That’s not possible. I have work and—”
“While I was in the kitchen, I called Cal and Gabe to come help clean up the paint. Pops said he would call Prudence and have her fill in for you for a couple of days. So see,” he frowned as the bag started to slip, “everything is taken care of.”