Page 8 of Nailed (Dad Bod Contracting 3)
He laughs. “A Mexican stand-off, it looks like.”
“I think a Mexican stand-off has to be more than two people,” I say.
He nods. “Ah, true.” His eyes search mine, and then make a brief but noticeable trip downward before sliding away to scan the crowded bar. “So how about this—we both answer each other’s questions at the same time.”
I snort. “That’s stupid.”
“Okay, well then, you go first. Who have you been talking to and what did they say, and why were you asking them about me?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Nice try. You go first.”
He huffs in annoyance. “You promise you’ll actually answer if I do?”
I nod and hold out my hand, and we shake. “Promise,” I say.
“All right, but before I answer I gotta know how much of the unvarnished truth you think you can actually handle without getting mad?”
I wrinkle my nose. “How am I supposed to be able to gauge that without knowing what the truth is?”
Ryder’s brow furrows, which shouldn’t be attractive, but is. “Oh. Good point.”
“But let’s assume I can handle the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
“So help you God?”
“Nah, this isn’t court.”
He laughs. “Fine, the whole truth, then.” He takes a long, fortifying drink of his beer, and then levels his eyes at me. “I had a couple of reasons. One, you’d made it clear from before the first date that if we had sex, it’d be well after you’d gotten to know me, and that things would be moving slowly. So, no sex on the first date or even the fourth or fifth. Which was fine—seriously, no big deal. But four dates in, I knew I couldn’t keep my end of the bargain.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I just couldn’t do it. I’m too fucking attracted to you. When we kissed after that fourth date, it took literally everything I had to not pressure you into sex.”
I blink at him. “So you just stopped answering my texts and calls?”
“It wasn’t just that.”
“But wait, pressure me? What does that even mean?”
“It means—”
“Were you worried I couldn’t resist the pressure? That I wouldn’t be able to say no if I wasn’t ready? Seriously, I don’t see how that leads you to just vanishing on me.”
Ryder sighs. “I told you, it was more than that.”
“Then do elucidate, please.”
Ryder frowns. “Elusi-what?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t act dumber than you are.”
“For real, I don’t know that word.”
Elucidate,” I say, pronouncing it clearly: el-OO-sih-dayt. “Explain. Make clear.”
He nods. “Got it. Elucidate.” He hesitates. “That kiss sort of freaked me out a little.”
My heart thumps. “Me too.” I meet his eyes. “Why did it freak you out?”
“It just…it felt…weird.” He sighs, waving a hand. “I don’t know how to put it. More intense than I’m used to? I don’t really know.”
“Like there was a connection between us just from the kiss.”
He nods. “Yeah, pretty much. And just to be honest, Laurel, I’m not sure I’m ready for anything with a connection that strong.”
I snort. “You’re forty-something years old, Ryder. If you’re not ready now, when will you be?”
“Forty-three. And…never?” He grins, though, and I’m not sure if that’s a joke.
I tilt my head. “You’re not covering the truth by pretending it’s a joke, are you?”
He sighs. “See? You’re not supposed to be able to see through my bullshit that easily.”
“But I can,” I say, smirking. “So don’t bother bullshitting me.”
He grunts in amused annoyance. “Today is kind of an anniversary for me, which is why I’m here alone—I’m drowning my misery.”
“Anniversary of what?”
“My divorce.”
I nod. “Ah. That I totally understand.”
“Yeah, I guess you would.”
I smile sympathetically. “So, was it a messy one?”
He lets out a sarcastic bark. “Are they ever not messy?”
“Good point,” I say.
He eyes me. “You don’t really want to hear this story, do you? Isn’t it bad form to talk about exes?”
“On first dates or early in the relationship, yes, but this isn’t a date, and we don’t have a relationship because you ghosted me.”
He heaves a sigh and then takes a long drink of his beer. “I didn’t ghost you.”
“Not sure what else you’d call abruptly cutting off all communication without warning or explanation.”
“I just did explain.”
I frown. “Yeah…because I stalked you here and demanded one.”
He snorts a laugh. “So you admit you stalked me?”
“Well, if you must know, I asked Audra and Imogen to ask Franco and Jesse where I could find you, and they told me. So, it wasn’t that hard.”
“I mean, I am here pretty much every night.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Every night?”
He shrugs. “Billy serves good burgers, and cooking ain’t really my thing.” He lifts the pint glass in his hand. “Most nights, I have one or two, sometimes three. I’m not a heavy drinker, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
I lift both hands palms out. “I wasn’t judging.” I laugh, then. “Nicely done, by the way.”
