Page 19 of Tin

Riker stops mid bite and does a weird thing with his jaw like he wants to say something, but then he changes his mind and just keeps chewing.

“What? You know him?”

He leans over his box to keep from dripping burger grease onto his pants. “Sort of. Went to school with his older brother, Derek.”

Clearly, there’s more. “And?”

“And... I don’t know. Derek was one of those popular kids. You know, like high school was his shining moment in life. Prom king. Football player. Dated all the pretty cheerleaders and still had time to make the honor roll.” He laughs, though he’s obviously not amused. I guess those things wouldn’t mean much to a guy like Riker. “Anyway, Carson seemed to always have a chip on his shoulder. Not that I blame him. Sucks being stuck under someone else’s shadow everywhere you go.”

I drop a fry back into the Styrofoam container. “Damn. And here I was hoping Kirsten was onto something with this find me a man business.” I bite back a smile because it would ruin my faux disappointment.

Riker eyes me skeptically as he wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Why does that make me want to jump out of my own skin and into his? His perfect lips thin out when he presses them together, and I’m tempted to lean in and kiss them just to see them fill out again.

“Since when are you in the market for a man? I thought you were all anti-relationships and feelings and shit.”

I nod. “Oh, I am, but I know Kirsten. Once she locks in on a target, there’s no avoiding that missile. And right now, she’s aiming that shit directly at me and my lacking love life, so, you know, I’m thinking I could make this work for me.” I brush my hands off and put them behind me to lean into them. “Obviously, getting seriously involved with someone is out of the question, but in lieu of one manwith expectations and demands I have no desire to meet, maybe I could use several. You know, play a little game of build-a-man using only the parts I want and leaving out all the parts I don’t.”

Riker lies back against the chaise and runs his hands over his face several times. “What now?”

“Well”—I lift my leg and rub it over his thigh—“I mean, I’ve already got a good thing going here with you. But I wouldn’t mind eating something every once in a while that didn’t come out of a to-go box or Kirsten’s kitchen. Maybe finding a guy to provide an occasional grown-up dinner and entertaining conversation wouldn’t be a bad thing. And after that, I’ll have my sister keep an eye out for someone with a spare credit card and the inexplicable need to spoil me with lavish gifts from time to time.” I add that last bit just in case he hasn’t figured out yet that I’m screwing with him.

He takes both boxes and moves them down to the ground, eliminating the Styrofoam barrier between us. “You know, if meals are so important to you, I’m sure I could arrange for something other than takeout from time to time. I’m not about to promise any kind of conversation, but I could probably come up with some alternative ways to entertain you...other than the way Ialreadyentertain you. Maybe a movie or something along those lines? I mean, if that would help slim down the list of men you need to acquire.”

I crinkle my brow. I’m not sure I like where this is going. “Why would you do that?”

He comes toward me until our lips are touching. “Well, for personal reasons, I’d prefer you didn’t start a collection.”

Without moving away even the slightest little bit, I whisper back, “You’re not supposed to have those.”

He’s still not kissing me, just sweeping his mouth over mine while he continues to explain in his steady, deep voice, “They’re very selfish personal reasons. I like having you. All to myself. All the time.” His hands come up and reach around the back of myneck and head, tenderly massaging me and somehow managing to bring me even closer to him without fully connecting us. “But if you think you’ll have more fun with some suit-wearing douchebag like Carson, eating pretentious food from porcelain plates and using actual silverware while he drones on and on about his exciting life as a junior accountant, than you do here with me, where we wear nothing but skin and devour only each other while uttering words so filthy I bet you can’t say one right now without blushing, then by all means, go out with him and any other man you think can be of some use to you. I don’t want to get in the way of your needs being met.”

My hands reach for his belt buckle as I bite down on his bottom lip and briefly suck on it. “You make a very compelling argument. Now shut the fuck up and take off your clothes. I’m ready to be entertained.” I move in to kiss him, then stop. “And make it good. I have a boring dinner to suffer through tomorrow.”

There’s a flash of his wicked smile right before his mouth comes for mine. And I know this kiss is different. It’s like I’ve awakened a primal need within him to stake his claim on me. It’s intense and wild and passionate. And unwavering. And for the first time in a long time, I wish I wasn’t too dead inside to feel what it would mean to be his.

BY THE TIME I GET BACKto Kirsten’s the next morning, she’s sitting on my bed, waiting. Impatiently, I might add.

“The sun is barely even up. What time did you leave?” She gets up and tosses me the water bottle she’s been cradling in her lap. It’s still cold, so she hasn’t been down here too long.

“I took off around seven thirty.” It’s sort of true. That’s what time I left Riker’s place. “I’m sorry. Did we have some sort of appointment?” I chug my water, careful to hide my smirk.

“Don’t be a jackass. I came down here to tell you Nate and Sophie went to get cinnamon rolls from the Eat Three Bakery. I don’t think you’ve had those yet. They’re amazing.” She heads back toward the stairs. “Anyway, I notice you’re wearing the same running gear I saw you in yesterday evening. And your bed is perfectly made. Almost like you didn’t even sleep in it.”

I shrug, purposely gulping more water to pass the time. “Making the bed’s a nice little habit I picked up while I was gone. I do it without even thinking about it now. And there’s no point in washing my running gear after each run. It just gets gross and sweaty again.”

She scrunches up her nose as if she can smell me from across the room. Which is doubtful. I took a shower before I left this morning. We took a shower. Whatever. I’m clean. If anything, I smell like Riker’s standard mix of soap, sea, and sex, and that shit pretty much makes you wish your clothes could vanish into nothingness the second you get a whiff of it. It doesn’t make you contort your face into a pig’s snout.

“Something is up with you. And I’m going to figure out what it is.” She nods, but I’m pretty sure it’s more for herself than my sake. Then she leaves, closing the door behind her.

I turn toward Harley. “Well, that was close.” I’d planned on crawling into bed as soon as I got home to catch up on the sleep I missed last night. Kinda felt like I probably need to be well rested for the shopping spree Kirsten threatened me with yesterday. But now that I know cinnamon rolls are headed my way, I might as well go with the promise of a sugar high to get me through the day.

Since Kirsten expects me to be disgusting, I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I let the water run for a few minutes while I change clothes. I didn’t even break a sweat coming home this morning. Just walked down the beach, enjoying the peaceand quiet. This time of year the tourists are out of control most of the time, but I still have the place nearly all to myself in the early morning hours.

When I venture up to the main living space, the whole family is already spread out around the kitchen island, digging into the hot and gooey rolls of sugar.

“You want one?” Kirsten reaches for a plate as soon as she sees me.

“Nah, that’s cool. I’ll just have the half Sophie’s wearing on her face here.” I dip my finger into a glob of cream cheese frosting and then tap her nose. She giggles, then unsuccessfully tries to reach her nose with her tongue.

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