Page 23 of Hook Up

That crooked grin decorates his face as he tucks my head under his chin, his grip tightening around me. Once again, I feel safe.

Just like eight years ago, Ryder has snuck back into my heart through a window which I no doubt left open for his return.

Chapter 4

Greer

I’ll be full for a week. The rehearsal dinner is a Greek-style feast with so many platters of food I’m shocked the table doesn’t crack from the weight. No surprise to learn the entire weekend is compliments of Ryder, who is also on a first-name basis with the restaurant’s owner. There’s no way we normal everyday folks could ever score a table in such a place.

Normally, I hate how the ultra-rich flaunt their money, but Ryder isn’t doing it for recognition. The man is generous to a fault and I know it’s making my brother’s wedding special. Judging by the smile decorating Greg’s face, he’s over the moon to be reunited with his childhood friend.

I’m thrilled to see Greg smile.

I’m also thrilled to see Ryder, even if I’m having a hard time controlling my lustful urges in his vicinity.

Who can blame me? The man is superbly sexy. His hands are strong but lean, with long fingers I’ve no doubt know their way around a woman’s body. Too bad I didn’t get the full breadth of that experience eight years ago. Then there’s his mouth—full lips surrounded by a neatly trimmed dark beard. When he runs his hand over his beard, connecting my two favorite body parts, I don’t stand a chance.

Despite Ryder’s nonchalant attitude toward her, Michelle is still gunning for his attention. She snagged the seat next to him at the table—no surprise there—and she’s finding every reason in the world to lean against him, her breasts threatening to spill out of her skimpy top.

No doubt Ryder is used to the blatant affection, but he appears to be a consummate gentleman, which I’m sure is terribly upsetting for Michelle.

As for me, I’m seated a few seats down and across the table from him, but I’m happy with my spot. It allows me to sneak glances in his direction without being too obvious. Of course, every time I look his way, he’s already looking at me.

But it’s the way he looks at me—such intensity and longing—that has every cell firing at the same time. I’ve had my share of men, but none has ever managed a reaction quite like the one Ryder is bringing out in me, and he’s a few feet away.

I can’t imagine what it would feel like to remove that space, along with any clothing that might get in the way.

I giggle at my tempestuous thoughts, earning a quizzical glance from Ryder. “Nothing,” I mouth, waving it off.

With a sigh and a wink in Ryder’s direction, I head for the bathroom, releasing a squeal of excitement when the band plays one of my favorite Bowie songs.

Walking to the small dance area, I spy Ryder and Michelle, her body pressed close as she whispers in his ear, and a twinge of jealousy sparks inside me.

I know he’s not mine, but I can still want to break her fingers. It’s not like I’m going to act on the notion.

“Would you like to dance?”

Gazing up, I smile into the stranger’s handsome face as he offers me his hand.

“She’s dancing with me. Only me,” Ryder cuts in, a muscle jumping in his jaw. He grabs my hand, leading me to the floor and pulling me flush against him.

“What was that about? You had a dance partner.”

“Not by choice,” he retorts, his hand resting against my lower back. “She’s like an octopus—arms everywhere. Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

I tap his chest, offering him a smirk. “So hard being adored. Poor little Ryder.”

Cupping my ass, he pulls me hard against his erection. “Gigi, there’s nothing little about me.”

“Certainly not your ego.”

Am I getting flustered, feeling his length pressed against me?

Hell yes.

Will I let Ryder in on this fact?

Hell no.

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