Lucille’s words echoed in his head, and he clenched his fists. No. This thing between him and Rachel was just between them. No promises, no secret agendas, and nobody was getting hurt. “Thursday?” he asked. Otherwise it would be next week, and he wasn’t sure he could wait that long.
“Thursday will be just fine. Come over as soon as you’ve finished work?”
“Sounds perfect,” he said. “See you then.”
He anticipated it all through Wednesday. What it would be like to kiss Rachel again. To touch her. Explore her. For her to touch him.
And, even though they’d agreed it was just a fling and they weren’t getting emotionally involved, he couldn’t resist the urge to buy her some flowers. Not from the florist on the next block to Grey’s, right in view of the pharmacy, because he knew that would be leaving Rachel vulnerable to speculation; instead, he drove out to the strip mall just before he picked his grandmother up on Wednesday evening and bought an armful of red tulips, some for Gram and some for Rachel.
His grandmother was delighted by the flowers when he brought them in. “They’re so pretty, Ry.” But the look on her face told him that she was worrying about something.
“What is it, Gram?” he asked gently.
“Is it my birthday?” Her voice was slightly quavery with anxiety – clearly she was aware that she’d become more and more forgetful and was worrying that she’d forgotten the occasion.
“No, Gram, and anyway it doesn’t need to be your birthday for me to buy you flowers. You’re my grandmother, and I love you,” he said with a smile. And at the same time he felt guilty because he knew he’d bought them as a kind of cover for buying flowers for Rachel. That really wasn’t fair of him. And he’d made his grandmother anxious. Ah, crap. Maybe he was as selfish as Lucille thought he was. He should’ve thought this through.
“Your grandfather used to buy me flowers every Friday night,” Phyllis said. “‘Just because,’ he always said.”
“I remember,” Ryan said softly, and made a mental note to buy his grandmother flowers more often.
On the Thursday, even though it was one of the busier days of the week he found the day dragging. To his relief, the gossip had moved away from whether he was or wasn’t dating the woman he’d kissed in the middle of the pharmacy.
But all the same he couldn’t wait for the moment that he saw Rachel again.
He’d left the flowers in the trunk of his car, hoping that the cool weather would stop them from wilting; thankfully, even though it was snowing again, the car had insulated the tulips enough that they hadn’t frozen, either.
Her eyes filmed with unshed tears when he gave her the flowers. “Ry, they’re lovely. Thank you. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I hoped you’d like them.” Then a nasty thought struck him. “I haven’t just given you the kind of flowers your ex used to buy you or anything, I hope.”
She shook her head. “I’m just being wet because it’s been a while since someone other than my sister or my girlfriends bought me flowers. I’ll put them in water and make us some coffee.”
“Let’s take a rain check on the coffee,” he said, following her into the kitchen, “because right now what I really want to do more than anything else is to kiss you.”
And he did. Slow and easy at first, brushing his mouth against hers until his skin was tingling, then nibbling at her lower lip until she opened her mouth and let him deepen the kiss.
Her arms wound round his neck and her fingers slid into his hair, urging him on.
Unable to resist, he undid the buttons of her shirt and traced the edge of her bra with the tip of his finger.
And then he was aware that her body had gone tense. Her fingertips had stopped moving against his scalp, and he could feel the rigidity in her frame.
“Rachel? What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
She bit her lip and looked away. “Ignore me. I’m being
“Thursday will be just fine. Come over as soon as you’ve finished work?”
“Sounds perfect,” he said. “See you then.”
He anticipated it all through Wednesday. What it would be like to kiss Rachel again. To touch her. Explore her. For her to touch him.
And, even though they’d agreed it was just a fling and they weren’t getting emotionally involved, he couldn’t resist the urge to buy her some flowers. Not from the florist on the next block to Grey’s, right in view of the pharmacy, because he knew that would be leaving Rachel vulnerable to speculation; instead, he drove out to the strip mall just before he picked his grandmother up on Wednesday evening and bought an armful of red tulips, some for Gram and some for Rachel.
His grandmother was delighted by the flowers when he brought them in. “They’re so pretty, Ry.” But the look on her face told him that she was worrying about something.
“What is it, Gram?” he asked gently.
“Is it my birthday?” Her voice was slightly quavery with anxiety – clearly she was aware that she’d become more and more forgetful and was worrying that she’d forgotten the occasion.
“No, Gram, and anyway it doesn’t need to be your birthday for me to buy you flowers. You’re my grandmother, and I love you,” he said with a smile. And at the same time he felt guilty because he knew he’d bought them as a kind of cover for buying flowers for Rachel. That really wasn’t fair of him. And he’d made his grandmother anxious. Ah, crap. Maybe he was as selfish as Lucille thought he was. He should’ve thought this through.
“Your grandfather used to buy me flowers every Friday night,” Phyllis said. “‘Just because,’ he always said.”
“I remember,” Ryan said softly, and made a mental note to buy his grandmother flowers more often.
On the Thursday, even though it was one of the busier days of the week he found the day dragging. To his relief, the gossip had moved away from whether he was or wasn’t dating the woman he’d kissed in the middle of the pharmacy.
But all the same he couldn’t wait for the moment that he saw Rachel again.
He’d left the flowers in the trunk of his car, hoping that the cool weather would stop them from wilting; thankfully, even though it was snowing again, the car had insulated the tulips enough that they hadn’t frozen, either.
Her eyes filmed with unshed tears when he gave her the flowers. “Ry, they’re lovely. Thank you. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I hoped you’d like them.” Then a nasty thought struck him. “I haven’t just given you the kind of flowers your ex used to buy you or anything, I hope.”
She shook her head. “I’m just being wet because it’s been a while since someone other than my sister or my girlfriends bought me flowers. I’ll put them in water and make us some coffee.”
“Let’s take a rain check on the coffee,” he said, following her into the kitchen, “because right now what I really want to do more than anything else is to kiss you.”
And he did. Slow and easy at first, brushing his mouth against hers until his skin was tingling, then nibbling at her lower lip until she opened her mouth and let him deepen the kiss.
Her arms wound round his neck and her fingers slid into his hair, urging him on.
Unable to resist, he undid the buttons of her shirt and traced the edge of her bra with the tip of his finger.
And then he was aware that her body had gone tense. Her fingertips had stopped moving against his scalp, and he could feel the rigidity in her frame.
“Rachel? What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
She bit her lip and looked away. “Ignore me. I’m being
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