Page 25 of Rushing Into Love

“Ryder, it’s lovely,” she whispered, taking in the sanctity of the space.

“Yeah, this is one of my favorite places, probably in the world.”

As she stepped closer to me, my breath hitched and my pulse picked up. Bree turned to me, her chin tilting up to meet my gaze.

“Thank you for bringing me here, for sharing this place with me.” She took my hands in hers, her eyes sincere. I stepped in even closer to her and leaned down, lightly brushing her lips with mine. They were soft and warm and very receptive. She pressed up against me and I pulled her in, moving my hands down to her hips, holding her tight against me. We fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle.

I kissed her harder and deeper. She tasted sweet, like maple syrup.

The sun ducked behind some clouds and a light breeze blew in. Bree shivered and I pulled her body to mine, rubbing my hands up and down her toned arms to warm her.

“I guess I should get you home,” I said, noting her goosebumps.

“Yes, probably,” she sighed. “I have been gone a while. My sister might start getting worried.”

We finished hiking the rest of the trail, me with my arm around Bree’s waist, partly to keep her warm, partly to be near her. She nuzzled up against my chest and electricity shot through my body, a sensation I hadn’t experienced in a long time. I didn’t know what Bree’s long-term plans were, but I hoped I could convince her to make Peachtree Grove a part of them.

7

Bree

By the time Ryder dropped me off at Brooklyn’s, it was well past noon and I was in a much better mood; I practically waltzed through the front door, a perma-smile on my face.

Right into the formal living room, where Brooks sat on her white couch flipping through a trade magazine.

“And where were you all morning?” she asked in an accusatory tone, glancing up from her magazine. I had the distinct impression I’d broken curfew.

“Out,” I said casually. Crossing to the couch, I sat down next to her and curled my legs up under me.

She narrowed her eyes. “Were you with Ryder?”

“Maybe…” I coyly twirled my hair.

“Bree! Tell me what happened.” She smacked my arm with a throw pillow.

“We hung out, you know, nothing special. Wemighthave kissed,” I said, blushing and hugging my legs tight.

“Bree! I can’t believe you kissed Ryder McCauliffe, the superstar of Forsyth county,” she screech-whispered, awestruck. “Every female in the state is going to be so jealous! Tell me all about it. I want to know every detail.”

“Well, I left here and walked down Main Street. I popped into the General Store and Ryder was there, helping out his dad. He asked me to breakfast—we went to the 5-to-9’er—and then we went to the park and walked. The kiss just happened. And it was so amazing; he’s so amazing!” I stared into space, lost in my thoughts about Ryder—his hard body, his deep voice, his firm hands, his very kissable lips…

“I can’t believe that you were so worried about breaking up with Pax,” my sister said, shaking her head.

I smacked my forehead. “Pax. I completely forgot about the Pax situation.”

“Kissing a former NFL star will do that to a girl,” my sister teased. “Seriously, though, what did you decide to do about the interview onLA Today?” Brooks locked eyes with me. “I know that’s important to you. Not sure you can do the interview without having Pax tied to you. And I’m betting Ryder won’t love that idea…”

Biting my lower lip, I stared down at the couch cushion. “No, he definitely would not. I couldn’t do that to Ryder. And I can’t take the interview with a clear conscience, knowing I’m not really with Pax. Maybe Icouldcall and talk to the producer and see if Layla would still want to interview me, with a focus more on general relationship stuff.” I drummed my fingers on my leg.Yes, that could work.Or was at least worth a shot.

“Right. Then you wouldn’t have to risk looking unprofessional by cancelling the interview and you wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes by misrepresenting the relationship,” my sister said, ticking each pro off on her fingers.

“Yes, that’s a good plan,” I said, a slight smile creeping over my face as I considered the possibility. “Now I just have to figure out how to pitch the new interview idea to Layla Lowerty.”

I stood up, suddenly energized. “Gotta go! Wish me luck,” I said, crossing my fingers in the air.

“What? Where?” Brooks raised her eyebrows in confusion. “I thought we’d have lunch, maybe watch a Rom-Com on TV?”

“No time. I have to focus on Project:LA TodayInterview right now. There’s a coffeehouse here, right?”

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