Page 37 of Ryder

Ryder shoots me a narrowed look. “Like what?”

“The check-oil light keeps coming on.”

“And you ignore it?” His feathers are ruffled again.

I want to be mad at him, but again, his intensity revolves around my safety. It’s kind of hot. I never dreamed of meeting a man who cared this much.

“Smith’s father owns the automotive shop. Smith works there. I haven’t been eager to drop my car off, so I’ve been adding oil for a while.”

Ryder has all my bags in his hands now. “Well, I can’t fault you for that. You’re certainly not going there again. We’ll have to see about car repairs in a neighboring town.”

I follow Ryder. I’m carrying nothing. “I could take some of that,” I point out.

“Yep. You could. But you’re not going to. Let’s go.”

We enter the mansion through the back and step into the kitchen.

Gretchen is at the sink, and she turns toward us. “Good morning.” She smiles cheerfully before noticing the bags. Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she purses her lips, and I swear she’s hiding a smile.

Good. At least she’s not judging me.

Ryder looks at me with a raised brow. I appreciate his silent communication. He’s letting me decide what to tell Gretchen. I’ve known Gretchen my entire life. I trust her.

I decide to be blunt. “I had an altercation with Smith Winston last night. He seems to think he owns me. Ryder and my parents think it’s best if I stay here.”

Gretchen’s eyes go wide. There was no reason to continue with the charade of the sweater, so I left it at home. “Oh goodness. Are you okay?” She rushes up to us, spotting my biceps as she gets closer. She gasps, her hand coming to her mouth. “Claire. That boy is a bully. Did you call the sheriff?”

“I spoke to him this morning. I’m keeping it under wraps for now. I don’t feel like dealing with the fallout of accusing Smith of attacking me. If you don’t mind…”

Gretchen nods rapidly. “Of course, dear. I won’t say a word to a single soul.” She waves toward the back stairs. “That must be heavy. Go get Claire settled in.”

I follow Ryder up the stairs and into the pink room. “You really moved your stuff into here?”

“I told you I did.”

I giggle. “I assumed you were kidding.” I stare at the queen-sized bed. It’s oddly pretty, and I love the look, but… “Maybe I should take a different room,” I murmur. “Or you could…”

Ryder sets all my bags down near the bed and turns to face me. He stalks me with that smirk of his.

I back up, as I always do when he stalks me. “Ryder…” Arousal shoots through my body. I can’t stop it. He’s so intense.

He grabs me around the waist and hauls me in close. “I haven’t had a proper kiss today.” Before waiting for a response, he lowers his lips to mine and proceeds to scramble my thoughts.

I’m panting when he releases my lips. “I can’t think when you do that.”

“You think too hard anyway, baby. I didn’t sleep well last night. I hated that you left and went to sleep somewhere else. You’re not sleeping in another room. From now on, you’ll sleep in my arms.”

“Ryder…”

“I didn’t say I intended to have sex with you yet. We’ll wait until you’re ready for that step, but you will be in the same bed as me.”

His narrow-eyed look doesn’t allow for disagreement on his topic. I can’t imagine sleeping in another room anyway, so I sigh.

He gives a light grunt. “Good. That’s settled. Let’s get your stuff unpacked, and then I need to deal with my truck.” He turns toward my suitcase, lifts it onto the bed, and opens it.

“I can do that, Ryder,” I say as I rush forward.

“I’m just being practical, Claire. It’ll go faster if I help.” He lifts out a pile of my panties and bras and heads toward the drawers. “I left the bottom three for you. If we need more than this dresser and armoire, we can move furniture in from another room.”

---