“Which means...” Lola turned to Annabeth, her hands clasped together and pressed to her chest.
Ryder watched the women, amused. His wife might not know it, but the flush on her cheeks told Lola the answer. He grinned as Annabeth held out her hand for the older woman’s inspection.
Lola clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I just knew it. Your momma would be proud, damn proud to see who you married.”
Ryder swallowed down the lump in his throat. He hoped so. He accepted Carl’s enthusiastic handshake and Lola’s hug before the rest of Pop’s Bakery learned the news and jumped up to join in. Annabeth stood at his side, pink-cheeked and gracious and beautiful. Not as beautiful as she’d looked this morning, sleepy-eyed and smiling against the pillows. Memory gripped him, the silken skin of her cheek against his chest, the whisper of her breath. He’d woken up and bolted from the bed straight into a cold shower. And if he didn’t think about something else real quick, everyone in Stonewall Crossing would know how much he wanted his wife.
“This is a surprise.” Winnie Michaels was all wide-eyed assessment. “I never pegged you as the marrying sort, Ryder.” Winnie smiled up at him. “Especially to someone as goody-goody as our Annabeth. Not your normal type—from what I hear anyway.”
Ryder heard the edge in Winnie’s voice. So did everyone else in the bakery. He knew some folks were going to give them a hard time—he expected it. But the slight tensing of Annabeth’s shoulders, the way her smile dimmed, made him fiercely protective of her. “I’m lucky she’d have me.” He took Annabeth’s hand in his. It was ice-cold to the touch. He slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side.
Winnie’s eyes narrowed. “Well, the timing is great. I mean, I’m sure she appreciates having someone to help out and support her while this whole job thing is going on.” She smiled. “And, with you being a Boone and all, I guess that helps, too...” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “When are you two leaving for the honeymoon?”
Annabeth was ramrod stiff in his arms, her lips pressed flat. He needed to get her out of here, quick, before she let Winnie Michaels have a piece of her mind. While he would pay money to see his Annabeth put Winnie in her place, he suspected his wife would regret it. She worked too hard to be a model citizen in their small community. And having a catfight with one of her student’s parents, however warranted, was not the sort of attention Annabeth needed right now. “Not for a while.” Annabeth sounded cool and calm. He was impressed as hell.
“Lola, you think we could have that breakfast to go?” he asked.
“No honeymoon?” Winnie asked. “Isn’t that bad luck? To not have a honeymoon?”
“We might not be going anywhere yet, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be a honeymoon.” Ryder winked at Lola, but he made sure everyone heard him. There were more than a few snickers.
“You best hurry with their breakfast, Carl,” Lola yelled toward the kitchen, still giggling. “Don’t want to keep these lovebirds waiting.” She might be a gossip, but she had a good heart. She must know what he was up to, helping Annabeth into her coat, chattering away—and preventing Winnie from getting a word in edgewise.
“I imagine your family’s tickled pink,” Carl said, as he handed a large brown paper bag to Ryder.
“They don’t think I deserve her.” Ryder nodded, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.
“Nope.” Carl waved his hand at him. “Consider it a little wedding present.”
“Wonder how Greg’s folks feel about it?” Winnie asked.
He drew in a deep breath. That was a question. A good question. He’d no interest in hurting Annabeth’s relationship with the Uptons...but he might have already done that by getting her pregnant.
Annabeth’s arm slid around his waist. “Judy and the Major love Ryder. He was the closest thing Greg had to a brother.”
“You and Greg were two peas in a pod,” Lola said with a nod.
“That’s nice, then, keeping it in the family.” Winnie smiled that mean, tight smile some women wear so well.
To his surprise, Annabeth laughed. “Oh, Winnie.”
He had to give it to her, she knew how to make lemonade out of the bitterest of lemons. Even now, with Winnie prodding the grief-filled places in Annabeth’s heart, she managed to laugh it off. What else could she do? He’d never been prouder.
He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You ready to go, Mrs. Boone?”
Her huge hazel eyes turned on him, so full of warmth he could feel it. “I’m ready, Mr. Boone.” Her smile grew. “And I’m starving.”
She was talking about food, he knew it. Other than the night in his truck, she hadn’t shown the slightest interest in him. But something about the look in her eyes and the husk in her voice sent his blood to boiling. He’d like nothing more than to take her home, feed her pancakes and spend the rest of the day—and maybe the night, too—in bed.
Chapter Seven
“What did you ever do to Winnie Michaels?” Ryder asked her as soon as they climbed into his truck.
She almost dropped the to-go cartons containing their breakfast. “What did I do?” She stared at him, ready to launch into all the things Winnie had done to her, when he started laughing. He knew about the teasing, the Annabeth Banana-breath. He’d been there.
“Teasing you.” He was grinning ear to ear.
She sighed, sitting back in the seat, staring at his profile. A man shouldn’t be that good-looking. His body was compact, lean and muscular—good for riding bulls. Her gaze drifted along his jean-encased thigh to his chest. She swallowed, remembering the feel of him a