involve getting out there, but Ainsley was outspoken, friendly and talkative. She didn’t just step out of the box, she played happily outside it. Me? I carved soap. Maybe I should’ve—
From my nightstand, my cell phone dinged. Figuring it was Ainsley since I wasn’t online, I headed over to pick it up.
It was not Ainsley.
R u home?
It was from Rider.
My breath caught.
Another text came through before I could get my brain to respond.
Alone?
My eyes felt as big as planets as I stared at my cell. This time I was not going to be crippled by indecision. I sent back a quick yes .
A couple of seconds passed. A minute turned into five, and I began to wonder if I was totally imagining things, but then a new text appeared and my heart stopped.
Two words.
I’m outside.
Chapter 8
Holy crap.
For a second I was completely frozen as I stared at the text. He was outside? No, he couldn’t mean he was actually outside the—
The doorbell rang, echoing from downstairs, and I whirled around, my lungs expanding rapidly.
Holy crap balls.
My brain sort of clicked off as I darted out of the room and down the hall, my bare feet flying down the steps. I almost barreled right through the foyer, stopping just shy of throwing the door open.
I wasn’t stupid.
Stretching up onto the tips of my toes, I peered through the peephole as I bit down on my lip. All I could see was the back of his head and the breadth of his shoulders.
It was Rider. He was really here.
Still clutching the phone and having no idea how this was happening, I swallowed hard as I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
Rider turned at the waist, and I ended up eye level with his chest. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to answer.”
My gaze flicked up, and a strangled sound escaped me. I reached out, gripping his arm and all but dragged him inside. He caught the door with his other hand, closing it behind us.
“Your face.” My grip tightened on his forearm. “What happened?”
His brows furrowed as he reached up, touching the skin around the inch-long gash above his left eyebrow. Blood had dried around the cut and a bluish-purple shade had already begun to spread out around it. “This? Oh, it’s nothing.”
I stared at him. “It doesn’t...look like nothing.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Looking around the foyer, he peeled my white-knuckled grip off his arm. Instead of dropping my hand, he threaded his fingers through mine. “I thought you’d ask how I figured out which one was your house. I’m pretty impressed with my craftiness.”
Yeah, I was curious about that, but he was going to end up with a matching scar above his left eyebrow now. “Rider, your forehead...”
He glanced down at me as he squeezed my hand, grinning. “You told me you lived in the Pointe, so I took the metro to the Center and walked the rest of the way. Wasn’t too hard to figure out.” With his other hand, he ran the tips of his fingers over the fake daisies in the vase placed on the entry table. “I just looked for your car. Lucky me, it was in the driveway. So maybe I’m not that crafty.”
Crafty or not, he was hurt and that made me feel sick. I started tugging him toward the living room.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, letting me pull him along.
My eyes widened. I’d totally forgotten I was dressed for bed and that the sleepwear showcased my sturdy body. “I was getting...ready for bed.”
He arched his brow and then winced. “What time is it? Seven?”
“Seven-thirty,” I murmured, guiding him out of the hall and into the living room.
Taking in the spacious room, his attention lingered on all the potted plants in front of the bay window, then moved over the entertainment center and the built-in bookshelves. Then he turned to me. His gaze dipped, taking a slow slide down the length of my body, and I felt my toes curl against the hardwood floors. A rush of heady warmth followed his gaze and the answering tight shiver did
From my nightstand, my cell phone dinged. Figuring it was Ainsley since I wasn’t online, I headed over to pick it up.
It was not Ainsley.
R u home?
It was from Rider.
My breath caught.
Another text came through before I could get my brain to respond.
Alone?
My eyes felt as big as planets as I stared at my cell. This time I was not going to be crippled by indecision. I sent back a quick yes .
A couple of seconds passed. A minute turned into five, and I began to wonder if I was totally imagining things, but then a new text appeared and my heart stopped.
Two words.
I’m outside.
Chapter 8
Holy crap.
For a second I was completely frozen as I stared at the text. He was outside? No, he couldn’t mean he was actually outside the—
The doorbell rang, echoing from downstairs, and I whirled around, my lungs expanding rapidly.
Holy crap balls.
My brain sort of clicked off as I darted out of the room and down the hall, my bare feet flying down the steps. I almost barreled right through the foyer, stopping just shy of throwing the door open.
I wasn’t stupid.
Stretching up onto the tips of my toes, I peered through the peephole as I bit down on my lip. All I could see was the back of his head and the breadth of his shoulders.
It was Rider. He was really here.
Still clutching the phone and having no idea how this was happening, I swallowed hard as I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
Rider turned at the waist, and I ended up eye level with his chest. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to answer.”
My gaze flicked up, and a strangled sound escaped me. I reached out, gripping his arm and all but dragged him inside. He caught the door with his other hand, closing it behind us.
“Your face.” My grip tightened on his forearm. “What happened?”
His brows furrowed as he reached up, touching the skin around the inch-long gash above his left eyebrow. Blood had dried around the cut and a bluish-purple shade had already begun to spread out around it. “This? Oh, it’s nothing.”
I stared at him. “It doesn’t...look like nothing.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Looking around the foyer, he peeled my white-knuckled grip off his arm. Instead of dropping my hand, he threaded his fingers through mine. “I thought you’d ask how I figured out which one was your house. I’m pretty impressed with my craftiness.”
Yeah, I was curious about that, but he was going to end up with a matching scar above his left eyebrow now. “Rider, your forehead...”
He glanced down at me as he squeezed my hand, grinning. “You told me you lived in the Pointe, so I took the metro to the Center and walked the rest of the way. Wasn’t too hard to figure out.” With his other hand, he ran the tips of his fingers over the fake daisies in the vase placed on the entry table. “I just looked for your car. Lucky me, it was in the driveway. So maybe I’m not that crafty.”
Crafty or not, he was hurt and that made me feel sick. I started tugging him toward the living room.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, letting me pull him along.
My eyes widened. I’d totally forgotten I was dressed for bed and that the sleepwear showcased my sturdy body. “I was getting...ready for bed.”
He arched his brow and then winced. “What time is it? Seven?”
“Seven-thirty,” I murmured, guiding him out of the hall and into the living room.
Taking in the spacious room, his attention lingered on all the potted plants in front of the bay window, then moved over the entertainment center and the built-in bookshelves. Then he turned to me. His gaze dipped, taking a slow slide down the length of my body, and I felt my toes curl against the hardwood floors. A rush of heady warmth followed his gaze and the answering tight shiver did
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