She's the One: COunting on Love, Book 1 (17 page)

He ignored the questions about what he had to do and if the
something
was actually a
someone
. He made a big deal about packing up his equipment—slowly—as he waited until the guys had mostly moved off. Then he grabbed Shane’s arm and pulled him to the side.

“Hey, you think Conner’s ever gonna get past you dating his sister?”

The tension between two guys on the team was bad enough, but there was no way he and Conner could survive if Conner wanted to constantly hit Ryan while they were on duty. And if he knew even a third of the things Ryan wanted to do with Amanda, Conner would want to hit him. Hard. Constantly.

Shane shrugged. “Hope so.”

“Why do you keep rubbing it in his face?”

“Because I’m not going anywhere and he needs to figure that out. He doesn’t have to like it, but he does have to deal with it. I’m not going to walk away from Isabelle, and I’m not going to walk on eggshells around my friend just because he’s her brother.”

Okay, Ryan could respect that. “But you can’t blame him for wanting to hit you when you upset Isabelle.”

“If she was upset because I was being mean or hurting her, I’d be fine with him hitting me. But Conner’s always been the big hero to those girls, fixing everything, taking care of everything. Now I’m here and she doesn’t need him as much and it’s bugging him. He’s just picking fights.”

Ryan thought about that. It made sense.

What didn’t make sense was how much he liked the idea of being the one Amanda depended on to fix things for her.

“You think Conner will eventually come around to the idea that another guy can love one of his sisters as much or more than he does?”

Conner was looking out for his sisters, and Ryan—and he suspected Shane too—understood and respected that.

But Conner didn’t know everything.

Like the side of his sisters that he never got to see—the sexy, sweet, passionate and vulnerable side that had Ryan in knots.

Shane raised an eyebrow. “Emma?”

Ryan shook his head.

“Ah.” Shane nodded. “Amanda.”

Ryan stared at Shane. He didn’t look a bit surprised. “You’re not shocked?”

Shane shrugged. “Amanda’s amazing and you’re a smart guy.”

Ryan smiled. He couldn’t argue with that. “Will I survive?”

Shane chuckled and clapped Ryan on the shoulder. “Well, I’ve got a couple extra ice packs you can borrow.”

He hoped that was all he’d need to heal things after Conner found out about him and Amanda. Because he would. Because Ryan didn’t have a chance of staying away from her.

He pulled his cell from his pocket as he headed for his car. He dialed Emma’s number. He was going to need some help.

“Hey,” she answered on the third ring.

“Any chance you could get Olivia away from her condo for a while tonight?” Amanda and Olivia lived together and, while he didn’t know the youngest sister well, he had the impression she was a stay-at-home-on-a-Sunday-night kind of girl. Like Amanda.

“Uh.” There was a long pause. “Hang on.”

The sound on her end of the phone was suddenly muffled—he assumed by her hand. A minute later she was back. “I’m at their place now.”

“Amanda there?”

“Yep.”

“Olivia?”

“Yep.”

“So you and Olivia need to get lost.”

He knew Emma well enough to know that she was smiling.

“I’m making dinner.”

“Stop.”

“It’s gonna be good.”

“Em… I’ll…” He thought fast. What would definitely get Emma on his side? “…buy you new shoes.”

She chuckled. “Wow. You know my taste in shoes, so that’s pretty big.”

“Yeah.” Emma didn’t do anything the simple way if there was a harder way, or the cheap way if there was a more expensive way.

“But this is my chance to impress my sisters.”

He couldn’t help but grin. Emma would do this for him even without the promise of new shoes, but she was testing him. She knew him. She would know what this meant.

Was he ready for someone to know what this meant? Did
he
really know what this meant?

He was going after a girl for the first time in practically forever. It meant something. Something big.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Ooh, gee, let’s see. I have a feeling I could really push this.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“But I’m thinking that
you
are off the list of options.”

He frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“It means, if I wanted a long, hot weekend with you in exchange for getting Olivia out of here for a while, I’m guessing that’s a no-go.”

“Is that what you want?” It didn’t matter. She couldn’t have it…or him.

“I’m just asking.”

“Fine. No. I’m not an option.”

“Because…” she prompted.

“Because I don’t think Amanda would be into sharing me. Especially with her sister.”

He wasn’t sure how he knew exactly, but he had the feeling that once Amanda decided to be with someone, she would be the possessive type. Just like she was protective of the people she cared about and who depended on her, she wouldn’t want someone else messing with someone she was intimate with.

He liked the idea of her feeling he belonged to her somehow. Even if it was for a short time.

Besides, having any other woman in his bed didn’t sound good, or right, now. Considering Amanda hadn’t even been in his bed yet, that was also…something.

“Okay, you’re totally right and I’m glad you realize that. So, I’ll help you. But I need about forty-five minutes to make it convincing.”

“That’s too long.” Five minutes was too long.

“Fine. I’ll tell Amanda what’s going on and to meet you on her bed wearing nothing but a big red bow and a smile.”

The image of Amanda like that hit him hard.

Except Amanda wouldn’t do that. In fact, he knew that he couldn’t give her a chance to think about any of this for too long. He’d already asked her to stay and she’d left. Giving her a chance to mentally review the pros and cons here was not going to work in his favor.

“Okay, I’ll be there in forty-six minutes.”

“Don’t push me, Kaye. I said I need forty-five minutes. Which for me means more like sixty.”

“Make it fifty and I’ll throw in dessert at dinner.”

“You’re paying for dessert
and
drinks
and
the cab home anyway,” Emma informed him.

Ryan grinned. He really did like Emma.

But he’d never given up pizza and beer for her, and he’d never gone so far as to get someone else involved in getting her alone.

If he had asked her to stay and she had left anyway, he would have let it go.

As he probably should with Amanda.

“I’ll be there in sixty.”

“I’ll be out in sixty-one.”

He sighed. Emma Dixon was one hot, fun, huge pain in the ass.

“I burned the lasagna.”

Amanda looked up from the research article she was pretending to read. She pulled her reading glasses from her nose to focus on her sister. “You what?”

“Burned the lasagna,” Emma repeated, pulling a cute little white linen jacket on over her bright purple tank top. “So, we’re going to the Olive Garden. Want to come? My treat.”

“You
burned
the lasagna?”

Emma sighed. “Yes. Okay? But I’m taking Olivia out so she can still have it tonight.”

How did someone burn lasagna? “You’re a good cook,” Amanda pointed out the fact that would likely surprise most people who knew Emma. She didn’t seem the domestic type. At all.

Emma rolled her eyes. “I was doing my nails and forgot to set the time.” She wiggled her fingertips.

Amanda frowned. “They look the same.”

“I used the same color.” Emma tucked her hands into her pockets. “You coming or not?”

Amanda had already taken her makeup off and changed into her yoga pants. Emma knew she didn’t like to go out after she’d changed at the end of the day. She’d go to the hospital or police department to pick up one of her sisters like this if necessary, but no way was she going out to dinner dressed like this. She could, of course, change, but Emma was already swinging her purse up onto her shoulder.

“No, I’m good,” Amanda told her.

Emma shrugged and started to turn.

“Hey, bring me cake though, ’kay?” Not that cake was a substitute for Ryan, but she was going to give filling the void with sugar a valiant effort.

Emma gave her a thumbs-up.

Interrupted from the article about gait analysis in geriatric patients with big toe amputations, Amanda followed her sister into the kitchen.

It definitely smelled like burned lasagna. Damn. She really liked lasagna and Emma really was a good cook.

But she also really took her nails seriously.

Amanda glanced at the stove where the ruined pasta sat, still covered with aluminum foil with the oven under it still on. “Five hundred degrees?” She swung to face her sister, mouth open. “You set it for five hundred degrees?”

Emma shrugged again. “Must have bumped it up accidentally.”

She was eating PB&J because Emma had accidentally cooked their lasagna at one hundred and fifty degrees hotter than the directions called for? Dammit.

“Ready,” Olivia said, coming into the kitchen. She looked at Amanda. “You’re going like that?”

“No, she’s not coming,” Emma said quickly, grabbing Olivia’s arm. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“Oh, come on, Amanda, come with us,” Olivia said. “It’ll be fun.”

“She’s fine,” Emma said, waving a hand in Amanda’s direction. “Already took her makeup off.” She started for the door, trying to tug Olivia with her.

“We can wait,” Olivia protested.

“No, we have a reservation,” Emma said, pulling the door to the garage open.

“The Olive Garden takes reservations for two?” was the last thing Amanda heard as Emma pulled Olivia into the garage and slammed the door.

Wow, Emma was really excited about the Olive Garden.

Amanda crossed to the oven and lifted the corner of the foil. This was really too bad. The edges were definitely black and crisp. She pulled the foil back a little further. The rest didn’t look so bad though. Maybe the middle was salvageable. When it came to lasagna, she wasn’t too proud to eat straight from the pan. She grabbed a fork and was about to dig in when there was a knock at the door.

She looked back at the lasagna. She could pretend she wasn’t here. Or didn’t hear the knock.

But the next knock was accompanied by several presses of the doorbell.

Fine. She cast a longing glance at the lasagna and put the fork down—for the two minutes it would take her to get rid of whoever was bugging her on a Sunday night.

But all thoughts of noodles, sauce, and even cheese—and that was saying something—vanished when she opened the door to Ryan.

“Here’s the thing,” he said, stepping over the threshold before she could say a word. “As soon as you stop wanting me around, I’ll stop being around.”

She backed up as he came forward, surprised by how glad she was to see him.

“You say the word and I’m out,” he promised. “But for right now—” He pushed the door shut behind him. “—let me stay.”

He cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her.

Yes,
was all that Amanda could think. He’d come after her.

This kiss was far sweeter than she’d expected. She wanted hot and wet and deep.

This was sweet. And still hot and deep.

Ryan lifted his head long, delicious seconds later. “Let me stay. Let’s have some fun. I promise not to complicate things.”

Wow.

“What’s the word?” she asked softly.

“The word?”

“You said all I have to do is say the word. What’s the word?” She was teasing him. She couldn’t imagine actually using a word that would make Ryan go away. Which was a problem.

But when he looked at her like he was now, she had a really hard time remembering why.

“Huckleberry.”

She blinked up at him. “Huh?”

He gave her a sexy half smile. “The word is
huckleberry
.”

Ah. Okay. “That’s…”

“Not a word that would come up accidentally,” he pointed out. “Like if we used
kiss
, that could get confusing when you’re begging me to kiss you.”

He bent and did it again, a hot, open-mouthed kiss that almost went as deep as she needed it to. Almost.

“I’d never suggest we use a word that we’re going to be saying as often as
kiss
,” she said, pulling back. “Or a word like
fuck
.”

She yanked his shirt up and over his head. “Or
cock
.” She ran her hands over his chest. “Or
suck
, or
harder
or—”