Page 19 of Ryder

“Wanna see my bedroom?”

I shake my head. “Not a chance. Show me the library. I didn’t get to see much of it when I first got here.”

He surprises me when he doesn’t argue. Instead, he leads me from the room. “Do you like books?”

“Who doesn’t like books?” I ask, concerned about his response. If he says he doesn’t read, this weird attraction I have for him will come to a screeching halt.

He glances at me, smirking again. “Why do I get the feeling you’d be in your car driving away in two seconds if I said I don’t read?”

“Because it’s true. The idea is blasphemous.”

“Thank goodness I know how to read then.”

I roll my eyes as we enter the library. “Congrats. You finished first grade. Do you exercise that knowledge?”

He wraps his arm around my waist as we step into the bizarre library. “I do.”

I guess I’ll stay a while longer then. I’m in awe as I take in this room more thoroughly than I did when I arrived. I’d been so concerned about seeing Ryder that I hadn’t paid much attention to the library.

The ceiling is high, and there are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on three sides of the room. The most impressive thing is that all three sides have those old-fashioned ladders that can be rolled along the row of shelves. I want to climb one and find out what Old Man Wilde kept up high.

I pull away from Ryder, surprised when he lets me, and aim for one of the ladders. When I reach one, I kick off my flip-flops and step on the first rung with my bare foot.

Ryder sets a hand on my lower back. “How about you stay on the floor today? I have no idea how sturdy these ladders are. Let’s have someone come look at them before you risk your neck.”

I sigh, but I don’t argue. He’s probably right. “I know a guy.”

“A guy? You mean someone you dated who happens to be a ladder repairman?”

I cock my head and glare at him. “Are you going to get jealous and wonder all the time which of the guys in town I’ve dated?”

“Probably.”

“Will it do any good to tell you it’s not worth your time? I have no interest in any of them. Both of the guys I dated in high school are married now, and the latest one is a bit of a dick. Even if he were a ladder repairman, I wouldn’t call him.”

“Married?” Ryder’s brows shoot up. “At twenty-two?”

“People get married kind of young in small rural towns. By the time I was eighteen, it was assumed there was something wrong with me since I wasn’t engaged to one of my classmates.”

Ryder cringes. “Do those marriages last?”

I shrug. “I’m only twenty-two. Hard to say if my classmates’ marriages will withstand the test of time.”

“What are the rumors about menmyage being single?” Again, his voice is teasing.

“Guess you’ll find out.” I wiggle my brows.

“Mmm. I don’t think so.” He grabs me again and kisses me. It’s like he can’t keep his hands off me, and I’m irrationally okay with it, even though I keep pretending he’s smothering me.

“Lunch is ready,” Tiago announces from the doorway. A second later, he groans. “Maybe Ishouldeat mine in another room,” he grumbles as he walks away.

I’m so embarrassed my cheeks are hot. I bat at Ryder’s hands. “Stop touching and kissing me.”

“Not a chance.”

We follow Tiago to the dining room, where Gretchen is bustling around, setting plates of food on the table. There are dozens of tiny sandwiches, fruits, a vegetable tray, and homemade cookies. I know they’re homemade because everyone in town knows Gretchen is well-known for her cookies.

As Ryder pulls out a chair for me, I feel decidedly awkward. Gretchen is my equal. I’m uncomfortable with her serving me. She worked for Old Man Wilde for decades. She’s one of the many people in town who have held a position serving the old guy over the years—the help.

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