Page 28 of I Did Before I Do

I kissed him at the door and let him into my apartment.

“Smells garlicky,” he said. “I like it.”

“Good. I’d have to tell you to leave if you didn’t like garlic.” I gestured to the dining table. “I’d tell you to get comfy on the couch, but I don’t have one yet.”

Ryker moved to the table, facing into the kitchen. I’d left the corkscrew and wine glasses on the table; I could hear the sounds of him pouring two glasses. I went back to stirring the pot of alfredo on the stove, tapping in just a little bit of ground nutmeg. That was the secret ingredient—it made the flavors richer.

“No couch, huh?” he asked.

I glanced at Ryker; he was looking into my admittedly barren living room. A small TV sat on a coffee table, facing a heap of pillows and blankets that were serving as my nest for now.

“Yeah, uh, it belonged to the ex.” I shook my head.

“Kenzie mentioned your ex.”

So, she’d talked to him about me. I wondered what she’d said. Hopefully nothing bad. I sighed and shrugged. “Yeah, it was a rough breakup.”

Ryker was quiet. This wasn’t what I wanted.

I scrambled to redirect the tone of the conversation. “But, I mean, it’s fine. I kinda just want to play the field for a while, you know? So it’s working out.”

I stirred the sauce one more time, then started to make bowls: fettucine noodles, a healthy serving of sauce, broccoli, and shrimp. A piece of garlic bread on the edge of each bowl. I turned and carried both bowls to the table, where I sat across from Ryker.

“This looks amazing.” He looked down at his bowl, eyebrows raised. “I don’t remember the last time I had a meal like this.”

“Well, enjoy it. It’s kind of my specialty.” I smiled, already twirling pasta around my fork.

For a moment, we were both quiet, enjoying the taste of the food. It was perfect, possibly the best sauce I’d ever made.

Thank God men were easily charmed with food.

Ryker looked up from his bowl, nodding contentedly. “This is amazing.” He smiled. “Wow. Thanks, Sydney.”

“Sure. Thanks for coming over.”

He chuckled, reaching for his wine glass and taking a sip. I did the same. I had a feeling that bottle was going to be gone by the end of the night, and I wasn’t upset about it.

“So,” I said after a moment had passed. “I have to know. And I’ll keep it a secret if you want, but I gotta ask, how’d you know about the contract?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Right to the point, huh? You really are a lawyer.”

“Paralegal. But I know my stuff. And so do you.”

“Right, well.” He shrugged. “I was in college. For pre-law.”

Huh. Interesting. I raised my eyebrows, stabbing a piece of broccoli and swirling it around in the sauce. “Why’d you quit?”

Ryker didn’t reply for a moment. He took another bite, chewed and swallowed, then said, “It just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t for me. I was a little too artistic, you know? Didn’t really fit in with the suit and tie crowd.”

I couldn’t imagine him in a suit at all. I couldn’t picture him socializing with the lawyer types, either. Hell, sometimes I had a hard time picturing myself socializing with the lawyer crowd.

“And now you’re a successful tattoo artist.” I raised my wine glass toward him. “Everything works out in the end, I guess.”

“You think that?” He smiled. “So, your breakup is gonna end up okay?”

Damn. Right to the point. He would’ve made a great lawyer.

“Well, if I let myself think otherwise, I’ll just sink into misery and wallow. So, I have to keep telling myself that Mark wasn’t the right guy for me, and that I’ll find the right one when it’s time. And until then, I can have a little fun.”

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