Page 44 of Embracing Trust

Who can complain about this? I get a front-row seat to this perfect ass, muscular back, and legs.

He leads the way through the trails, up hills and down, around curves, through tunnels, and over bridges. After riding for about an hour, Ryan pulls over to a bench in some trees.

“Ready for a break?” he asks as he comes to a halt.

“Absolutely.” I follow him and park my bike alongside his on the mulch.

Ryan dismounts the bike, opens the saddlebag, and pulls out two bottles of water. He tosses one to me.

I sigh. “Ah, good thinking. Cold too.”

We take a seat on the bench, and I let out a heavy sigh. “Good ride.”

I squeal when Ryan runs his cold bottle of water down my leg. He chuckles and waggles his eyebrows. He runs his palm down the wetness from the water bottle. I grab his hand and keep it on my leg.

What is so hot about that anyway?

His fingertips gently circle the water on my leg.

Our faces are inches apart as he turns to me and his lips press to mine, softly at first, but the pressure builds quickly. Our hot breaths mixing with our perspiration from the long ride. Our tongues dance and my body burns hotter than the sun on a summer day.

We sit in comfortable silence.

“Remember when we used to ride our bikes up to Cat Hills?” Ryan takes a long pull from his water.

“I do. I also remember a few camping trips.” I take a drink. “Do your parents still own the cabin at Prescott Lake?”

“Yeah, I was just talking to them about that.”

I brush the hair off my face. “Remember when we used to take a blanket down to the lake and just stare up at the stars? On a clear night, you could see everything.”

“We’ll have to try getting out there some time. Would you like that?”

I turn to face Ryan. “I wouldlovethat.”

“Doesn’t sound like Mom and Dad go there too often anymore, so we could have the cabin all to ourselves.”

I bump my shoulder into his. “That sounds like fun,” I say with a chuckle.

“I’d like a repeat of the skinny dipping at Aldi Lake.” Ryan grins.

My stomach flip-flops and I wipe my hands on my shorts. The thought of being with Ryan sets my heart ablaze.

Ryan’s eyebrows draw together, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, I’m not trying to push you—”

I lean into Ryan’s embrace. “No, you’re fine.” I take a deep breath. “It’s just…” I shake my head. “Nothing.”

There’s no way I can admit to Ryan that I haven’t been with anyone for three years. Three years since I’ve been in a relationship. Three years since I’ve been intimate with anyone. It’s embarrassing.

I’m an all-around dating disaster. Although Merilee insists that’s not the case, my track record with men and dating hasn’t been good. It’s disconcerting. Definitely not something I feel comfortable discussing. After Jeff dropped me, it was like a knife in the back because I thought he was my friend. His betrayal brought back bitter memories of my father’s indiscretions and multiplied them by ten. I was humiliated and it took me a long time to come back from the way Jeff had treated me. I crept into a shell and stayed hidden while I attended the university. I did have a few friends, but I didn’t date.

However, in my junior year of college, I met Dave on a ski trip, and we hit it off immediately. He liked photography so that was an instant draw. He was low-key, mostly had a few close friends he hung out with—very much like me—and he was more interested in his education than impressing people or being the center of attention. Being a finance major, he was analytical, self-motivated, and structured. As Mom told me after meeting him, he was ‘perfect husband material.’ He was nice enough, and had his future all planned out, but we lacked chemistry. The desire was lacking. And although I liked Dave, and he would’ve made a nice husband, I couldn’t go through the rest of my life minus the passion and spontaneity that I craved. He was good to me, and I trusted him. We dated for almost a year until I broke it off. That was three years ago.

Ryan rubs my arm. “Did I say something to upset you?”

“No.” I smile. “It’s not you.”

In the past three years, I’ve had a few first dates—maybe even a few second and third dates, but I haven’t been able to connect with anyone. Every man I’m with is always compared to my first and only love. Ryan McCormick.

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