The Wedding Trap (Second Service) (18 page)

Erin wore her strained smile for as long as it took for Marianne to walk through her front door. Then she turned toward her new neighbor and gave him her most apologetic look.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said.

His chin tilted down a fraction of an inch. “About what?”

“Marianne. She gets a little over excited sometimes. Most times,” Erin amended.

“She doesn't bother me,” he said, and, strangely, he looked like he meant it.

“Still, you might want to run while you have the chance.”

“Why would I do that?”

Erin blinked. Once. Twice. “I just figured you were busy.”

“I can stay a little longer.”

But why on Earth did he want to? That was the real question.

Erin decided to risk a little honesty. “Because if you’re still here when Marianne gets back, she’s only going to take it as encouragement.”

“I can handle your friend.”

“Yeah,” Erin said with a smile. “That’s what everyone thinks at first.”

“I don't scare easy.”

That Erin believed. He looked like he could stare down the devil himself and win.

“That's because you don't know Marianne. She's very…persistent.”

“And you?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you the persistent type?”

Erin blushed as she shook her head. A little chuckle slipped from her lips. “No. I'm more the hide-in-the-ivy type.”

“Good to know. I’ll have to keep an eye out for you.” A brief smile flashed across his face—a real one, this time—lifting the corners of his eyes and softening all his hard edges. Erin’s heart started hammering against her breastbone, and this time it had nothing to do with fear. She might have only known him for a few minutes, but she had the feeling that a smile from John Ryman was a rare thing.

Erin found herself smiling back. She risked stepping up to the edge of her white wooden porch.

“I guess I should introduce myself properly. I'm Erin Holliday.” She put out her hand before remembering just how dirty it was. She pulled it back, wiped the worst of the black soil off on her jeans and tried again.

He grasped her hand without hesitation.

“It’s a pleasure, Erin.”

She felt the tingles from his touch run up her arm. Even after she slipped her hand from his, the jittery feeling inside her didn’t fade. Erin silently cursed her body’s traitorous attraction to him, and not just because she’d spent the last twenty years of her life staying away from men like him.

Nurturing a crush on John Ryman was pointless. She had a feeling there had never been a more extreme pair of opposites. Even in jeans and a tight gray T-shirt he looked perfectly put together. She on the other hand was struggling to keep her belly sucked in and breathe at the same time. It wasn’t a battle she was winning.

Erin gave a little nervous laugh. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“What did I miss?” Marianne's voice sounded behind her. A moment later she was at Erin's side. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” Erin said.

“Yeah, right. I knew I shouldn't have left you two alone. I wasn’t gone but a couple of minutes, and you've already taken the opportunity to sweep Mr. Muscles here off his feet.”

“Marianne!” A sudden blush rushed into Erin's cheeks. Marianne, more than anyone else in the world, had to know she would never flirt with a man like her new neighbor. And she hadn’t been. Had she?

Marianne put the glasses of ice tea down on the table in the far corner of the patio, and sat down in the sand-colored Adirondack chair next to it.

“I notice you’re not rushing to contradict me, Mr. Ryman,” Marianne said.

John shrugged, his brows rising and falling with his shoulders. At least he was polite enough to placate an old lady. That was in his favor. Still she gave her friend a hard look.

“So, did you get around to inviting your new neighbor to the barbecue?” Marianne asked.

Dear God, no. It was one thing to find that she could manage polite banter with her ridiculously hot, dangerous-looking neighbor; it was a whole other thing to spend an entire evening with him.

Erin swiveled around. She tried to give a subtle shake of her head, but Marianne stared right past her. Erin knew better than to think that her friend’s eyes were going the way of her ears. Marianne could see just fine. She was just ignoring her pleas.

“A barbecue?” John asked behind her. Erin froze.

“So Erin didn’t tell you that you picked the best day of the year to move into our little neighborhood?”

“It must have slipped her mind,” he said. That sounded like disappointment. It sounded like it, but it couldn't be. There was no way.

“I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” Erin turned and gave him another apologetic look. “The Michalsons live a few houses down, and every summer they host a big backyard barbecue for the whole neighborhood. But I’m sure everyone would understand if you’re too busy with the move, or just not interested.”

“Not interested?” Marianne called out behind her. “What kind of man isn’t interested in a barbecue?”

“I like barbecues,” he said.

She kept giving him outs and he kept refusing to take them. Of course, she couldn't force him to take her help.

“Of course, you do,” Marianne said, sounding pleased with herself. “It’ll be nice having another single person there. Have you ever taken two women out on a date at the same time?”

John slowly shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Ha!” Marianne laughed loud enough to scare the blackbirds from their perch in the sycamore tree in the center of Erin’s yard. “Looks like it’s your lucky day then. We’ll come by around seven to pick you up,” Marianne said.

“Sounds great,” he said.

Erin shook her head, and leaned toward him. “I don't know what you’re thinking, but she only gets worse with encouragement,” she whispered.

“I'll take my chances.”

“Don't say I didn't warn you.”

Another smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. Erin’s eyes were drawn to it immediately. Familiar warning bells rang in her head. What the hell was she doing?

“You’d better go pay attention to those movers,” Marianne called out behind them. “I hear they like to swipe stuff while the owner isn't looking, and, going by the size of that truck, you didn’t have much to start with.”

John raised his hand toward Marianne, and, after giving Erin a nod of his head, turned and strode across the street. He didn't look back. Not once. Leaving Erin to wonder how what had seemed like a perfectly normal day had so quickly been turned on its head.

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