He took a step closer, one hand resting along her shoulder, the other cupped her cheek.
Her lungs emptied and her heart kicked into overdrive. They were half-naked in the kitchen. And she wanted him to kiss her more than anything.
But that couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let it happen. Kissing Ryder would only add to the confusion. They needed to talk—to come up with a plan. Now. A clearheaded plan without this newfound attraction muddying up the water. It was hard to push her longing aside, hard to resist the pull between them. But she had to. “I’m hungry,” she blurted out.
He grinned. “In the microwave.”
She turned, putting some much-needed space between them. “Thanks for starting the laundry.”
“Got some clean clothes on the bike.” He pointed toward the door. “Be back.” He was out the front door before she could stop him. Out the front door, with his shirt off. If Mrs. Lavender saw him like that, everyone in Stonewall Crossing would hear about it. Then again, they were married now. It really shouldn’t matter if he sat on the front porch in his boxers...
Married.
She was Ryder’s wife.
She had to tell Cody.
She had to tell the Major and Judy, Greg’s parents. She wanted to tell them in person—a phone call wouldn’t do. They were the only parents she’d had since Flo’s battle with dementia set in. Without them, she wouldn’t be able to work the hours the principal position required. They looked forward to their weekend visits with their only grandson and loved it when she called for their help. She knew they needed Cody to keep Greg close to them. And, whether or not Ryder was in the picture, she had every intention of keeping that bond strong.
Ryder came back into the kitchen, pausing at the sight of her. Still wrapped in a towel standing in the kitchen. “Rethinking washing my back?” His pale blue eyes sparkled.
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I was thinking about Cody. And the Major and Judy.”
Ryder’s grin dimmed. “How are we going to tell them?”
“We?” His instant assumption that he’d be part of the conversation was a pleasant surprise.
He leaned against the door frame, his leather saddlebag gripped in one hand. It was impossible not to notice the play of muscles in his arm. “We.”
“I was thinking about asking them for dinner tomorrow night? When they drop off Cody?” she suggested. “With Flo?”
He nodded. “Sounds good. You gonna eat?”
“I should probably get dressed first.” She glanced down. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“Cut yourself a break, Princess. You can’t expect to come out of skunk duty looking dolled up.”
She shook her head, suddenly exhausted. She yawned.
“I like the outfit.” He pushed off the door frame, dropping a kiss on her temple before heading into the bathroom. “I just need to figure out how to get you out of it.”
She shivered. He was teasing, she could hear it in his voice. “You’re incredible.”
“I’ve heard that before. Eat your pancakes. Then we’ll take a nap.”
A nap sounded too good to resist. “Then we talk.”
He winked at her, pulling the door closed behind him.
She pressed the reheat button on the microwave and went to her bedroom, then slipped into a long cotton nightie and fuzzy socks. As she walked back into the kitchen, she heard Ryder humming in the shower. She was smiling as she sat down to her pancakes.
* * *
RYDER STARED DOWN at Annabeth. She was sound asleep, her long lashes resting against her cheeks. She’d kicked the quilts down to her knees and her thin nightgown did little to hide her stomach. His baby was in there.
After his shower and his late breakfast, he’d climbed into bed with her. He’d been working himself to death to wear himself out. He needed a nap as much as she did...and he couldn’t pass up the chance to hold her. She’d been stiff, refusing to relax against him until she fell asleep. Once she’d drifted off, she had no problem wrapping herself around him. He closed his eyes, enjoying every second. The feel of her hand on his bare stomach. The whisper of her breath on his chest. The silk of her hair against his neck. Her scent, her little sounds and movements—she was driving him crazy.
He’d slipped from the bed and wandered through the kitchen. He folded the laundry, pulled on his clean clothes and poured himself a glass of orange juice. On the refrigerator door hung a brightly colored picture of a tree house. He smiled at Cody’s creation. He knew the tree. It was a perfect tree house tree.