Page 3 of Ryder
“Not sure what you mean.” I drive another post into the ground with maybe more force than necessary, definitely not thinking about the way Dana’s cheeks flush pink this morning when I almost... but didn’t... again.
“Let’s see.” My best friend (and soon-to-be-former best friend if he keeps this up) ticks points off on his fingers. “You’re at that bakery every morning. You spend more on pastries than your truck payment. You light up like a damn Christmas tree every time she walks into a room. And yet somehow, you still haven’t asked her out.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Right. Because ‘Hey Dana, want to have dinner with me?’ is quantum physics.” Jake rolls his eyes. “Even Elena’s noticed, and she’s been distracted with the house renovations for months.”
The Montana sun beats down on my shoulders as I line up the next post. Physical labor is good. Simple. Nothing complicated about wood and wire and honest sweat. Unlike the way my chest gets tight every time Dana smiles at me, or the way I have to stop myself from reaching across that counter and…
“She’s not interested.” The words come out gruffer than I mean them to. “And I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“Bullshit.” Jake’s boot connects with a loose clod of dirt, sending it flying. “You haven’t been on a real date in months. That thing with the yoga instructor doesn’t count.”
I wince at the memory. “How was I supposed to know she was into crystal healing?”
“The point is, you picked her because you knew it wouldn’t work out. Just like all the others.” He gives me that look that means he’s about to go all annoyingly insightful. “You’re not fooling anyone, man. Especially not yourself.”
The problem is, he isn’t entirely wrong. The dating app disasters, the carefully casual flirting, the way I keep everything light and easy... it works. It’s safe. No one gets hurt when you never let them close enough to matter.
Except Dana has somehow slipped past all my defenses without even trying.
“She’s got enough going on without dealing with my issues.” I check the wire tension, focusing on the task instead of the memory of her in that kitchen, flour on her cheek, looking so damn content it makes my chest ache. “You’ve seen how dedicated she is. How much working at that bakery means to her.”
“Yeah, and I’ve seen how she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching.” Jake reaches for the wire cutters. “Like you’re better than every pastry in that display case.”
“She looks at everyone like that. It’s just who she is.” Sweet and warm and genuine in a way that makes me want to gather her close and protect her from everything. Not that she needs protecting. Dana’s stronger than anyone knows. “Besides, after Sarah-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Jake actually throws down his tools. “It’s been seven years. Sarah ghosting you was the best thingthat could have happened, considering she ran off with that dickhead Trevor. You’re not twenty-two anymore, and Dana isn’t Sarah.”
No, she definitely isn’t. Sarah had been all calculated moves and careful plans, right up until she decided those plans didn’t include waiting around for a deployed Marine. Dana... Dana is real. Passionate about her work, generous with her smile, quick with a comeback that keeps me on my toes.
Dangerous, in other words.
“The festival committee asked her to cater next month,” I say instead of addressing any of that. “Offered to help with deliveries.”
“Smooth. Real smooth.” Jake shakes his head. “Because nothing says ‘I’m interested in you romantically’ like offering to be her delivery boy.”
“Shut up and hold this wire.”
We work in silence for a while, falling into the rhythm we’ve perfected over years of friendship. Jake’s been there through everything. Sarah’s betrayal, my eventual discharge from the Marines, building the ranch back up with Dad. He’s earned the right to give me shit about my love life, or lack thereof.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“You know what your problem is?” he says finally, because of course he can’t let it go.
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“You’re scared.” He holds up a hand when I start to protest. “Not of dating. You’re scared of how much you actually like her. How real it could be.”
The truth of it hits like a punch to the gut. Because yeah, that’s exactly what terrifies me about Dana. Not just her beauty or her sass or the way she hums while she bakes. It’s the possibility of something genuine. Something that matters.
Something that could break me if it goes wrong.
“Elena said the pipe under her sink is acting up again,” I say, changing the subject.
“Garrett looked at it?”
“Nice deflection. But yeah, he’s heading over after we finish here.” Jake gives me a sideways look. “You know her apartment’s right above the bakery, right? Old building, old pipes...”
