Page 17 of Fighting for You

We both burst out laughing so hard, I feel tears burn my eyes. Thankfully, our food arrives and we both dig right in. Ryder loves the dish and I am glad I selected it. Once we are both finished, Ryder pays the bill, even though I try to fight him not to.

We get up to leave and I think the night is over, but Ryder grabs my hand, startling me.

“I don’t want this evening to end yet,” he says, studying my face.

“This is only for tonight,” I say.

We both look down at our intertwined fingers. “Then why are you still holding my hand?” Ryder asks.

I go to open my mouth, but I honestly can’t find a reason. I can’t believe what I am about to do.

“Fuck it. Let’s go out. What do you have in mind?” I say.

From the shock registering on Ryder’s face, that was not the response he was anticipating.

“Let’s go get a drink,” he offers.

Taking the lead, Ryder begins to walk us down the street where a few bars line the sidewalk. A slight gust of wind brushes through me and I feel my body tingle. Something tells me I am about to have a night I will never forget.

Chapter 17

Meghan

Ryder takes us to a small bar with another outdoor patio. We sit outside and people watch. He orders a beer while I go for a margarita. A band plays in the back of the bar and the music fills the space around us. As the song shifts to a more slow tempo, I find myself relaxing a bit.

“So, shouldn’t you be asking me questions right now? Aren’t you a journalist?” Ryder asks, sitting back in his chair.

Smiling, I release a small laugh. “I’m not a journalist. I have a literary degree. I mainly edit manuscripts, but I also write feature articles when asked,” I reply, sipping my drink.

“Oh, so you jumped at the chance to write about me,” he says, that arrogant smirk reappearing.

I shake my head as a giggle escapes my lips. “Something like that,” I say.

I feel my phone vibrate and I glance down, seeing a text from Kirsten. I choose to ignore the text for now. If I tell her we went for drinks after dinner, she will blow up my phone with inappropriate messages.

“Do you need to take a call?” Ryder asks, as I stare down at my phone.

Shaking my head, I say, “No. Just my friends checking on me.”

The bartender hands me my drink and I begin to chug it down faster than I should.

Ryder grins at me. “Are they checking to make sure I haven’t kidnapped you?” he asks.

I almost choke on my drink. “What?”

“I’m kidding. From what you have told me so far, you don’t go out with men very often. I’m sure they are just concerned.”

I nod. Man, I didn’t realize how intuitive Ryder was. But then again, he was in the navy, he was trained to dig into peoples minds. Was he doing that to me now?

I decide it won’t hurt anything, to be honest with him. I need to be in control of this situation. It’s been made very clear to me that Ryder thinks he can change my mind. I need to remind him who is boss right now.

“You asked me earlier to tell you about me. Well, I played soccer in middle and high school. My first car was a blue Honda Accord handed down to me from my mom and my favorite movie is Dirty Dancing,” I say.

“Wow, that was a lot of information,” Ryder says, sipping his beer.

I look around the bar because I don’t have a response to that.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” he asks me.

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