Page 40 of Tin

The chair is about the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat in, and I have half a mind to tell Riker he’ll be sleeping alone on that crappy old mattress from here on out, but then I settle in long enough to feel the cool leather against my skin and decide being flesh on flesh with Riker really is the more appealing way to go.

Once I get over the initial shock of being in an actual office, I get to work. I’m so focused on what I’m doing, I don’t even realize how long I’ve been in here until I hear the creak of the door open, and the scent of Riker’s shower soap fills the room with the breeze sweeping in from the ocean.

“This works,” he says, sounding very satisfied with himself. “It really does.” He comes over and kisses the top of my head. “Yes. I like it. Coming home. Finding you. Makes me want to come home more.”

I want to tell him not to say stuff like that. To remind him of my impending departure. Not to get used to this. But I don’t.

“Thank you for Harley’s new bed. He really likes it. And the note on the dresser was cute.”

He spins my chair all the way around to face him. “You’re welcome. And I hope you don’t mind, but I fed the beast since you didn’t. All the clothes from the black duffle bag are now in the dresser. And not that I was going through your underwear or anything, but I may have held onto a few pieces I wouldn’t mind seeing you in later tonight.”

“Is that so?”

He leans in, a playful grin flashing across his lips right before he comes in to kiss me.

“How much longer before you’re finished here?” he murmurs, still inches from my face.

“Oh, I was done the second you walked in. Who can concentrate on anything work related when you’re in the room?” I laugh at myself. I don’t say stuff like this. Even if I do think it. A lot. But I don’t actually say it. Out loud.

“Well, Miss Quinn. I do believe you’re blushing. Unless, of course, you’re just getting hot and bothered thinking about what I’m going to do to you later.” Oh my God. Why is he so much better at this than I am? I could have said the same damn thing and it would have sounded cheesy as hell. He says anything with my name in it and the words “I”, “do,” and “you,” and I’m ready to melt right out of my clothes and into his arms.

“Does that mean we’re staying in tonight?” I ask hopefully. Not that I haven’t enjoyed all the ways he’s found to entertain me night after night in this town. It’s just that I’m starting to feel a little anxious about leaving. And I know in the end, it won’t be any of the restaurants, or sights, or even romantic activities I’ll miss. It’ll just be him.

“It does.” His arms wrap around me without warning, hoisting me up out of the chair and over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing now?” I start smacking his ass. Because it’s a damn fine ass and it’s right there for the smacking.

“Taking you home and giving you a little lesson in moving in. Just dropping boxes full of your shit randomly around my place isn’t going to cut it.” He gives me a good whack as well. “Now stop spanking me, crazy ass.”

“Fine.” I stop beating on him and resolve to simply cup each perfectly sculpted butt cheek with my hands while he walks me from one side of the house to the other, dangling headfirst over his shoulder the entire way.

“You don’t think this is a little silly?” I ask, handing him books out of my box and watching him stack them on top of his shelf next to the front door. “Moving in. For two weeks? It’s not like I’m going to be doing a lot of reading.” I shoot him a dirty look. “I betternotbe doing a lot of reading.”

He chuckles. The sweet chuckle. I kinda hate it. Because I kinda love it. And then I wonder who else gets to hear it. Secretly, I hope he keeps it just for me, but I’m guessing Sidney’s heard this one too.

“No, I have no intention of giving you reading time,” he assures me as he takes the last of my paperbacks and stacks them alongside the others. “I just like seeing your stuff in my place.” Then he kisses me flush on the lips. Not long. Just a second or two to distract me from seeing it. But I do anyway. And not just now.

I see it more and more clearly every day. This part of him. The part he wants to give me. Only I can never take it from him. Because people like me don’t deserve a heart like Riker Shepherdson has. In spite of what my sister would like me to believe, when it comes to Riker, what I want doesn’t matter.

He sits down next to me on the floor and tugs over another load. “Where do you want these?”

He’s holding two picture frames in his hand, and I realize in a panic that one of the boxes I keep permanently sealed is now open.

“Put those back,” I snap, practically lunging for the cardboard flaps to close them again.

“Whoa.” He hurries out of my path but makes no effort to return the frames he already has in his possession. “Why do I feel like maybe you should have marked this one Pandora’s box instead of just ‘Pics’?”

I try to snatch the pictures from him, but he moves too fast. “I’m not in the mood for smartass comebacks, Riker. Just put those back. Now.” I’m not even pissed. I’m something. Scared. I’m scared. That box has been sealed for a long time. And for good reason. I’m not ready to face what’s in it. I may never be ready.

Slowly, he moves the frames face down onto the closed box. “He’s the reason you don’t ride anymore. The reason you never talk about horses. Even though you clearly feel more at home in a barn than you do anywhere else.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I slide the pictures in through the crack without looking at them.

“I know you don’t. You never want to talk about anything too personal. Do you really think that it keeps me at some sort of a distance? That not talking about it somehow means I don’t know? I know, Quinn. I’m not a fucking idiot.” He leans his head back against the wall. He’s not even mad at me. Just hurt. Which makes me mad at myself.

“Whatever you think you know...just forget it.” I get to my feet and pick up the box to move it. Somewhere. I don’t even know where. I just want it gone.

“Forget it.” He laughs dryly. “Sure. I’ll forget.” His head drops back to catch my gaze again. “I’ll forget the scars I’ve seen on your body. And I’ll forget the way you scream in your sleep sometimes as if you’re being ripped to pieces by some monster. Hell, maybe I’ll even forget that look in your eyes when you wake up and think that I’m him. Or the one after...when you realize I’m not.”

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