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Erin woke for what must be the four-hundredth time but to music instead of hopes, dreams, and recriminations. She scrubbed her eyes. Usually, she was up and running, but not today. She staggered into the shower, hoping it would help, but it did little except make her want to get back in bed. But she had way too much to do. Coffee. I need coffee. She dressed, stumbled into the living room, and stopped.
Ryan lay flat on his back, the sheet thrown off, his rock-solid chest fully displayed. She licked her lips, then caught herself. Focus, Erin. Employee, eight years younger. Not for you. She entered the kitchen, the rich, bitter scent of brewing coffee snapping her out of her ridiculous fascination. Her programmable coffee pot was the best investment ever. It might not be espresso out of Izzy, but it was lovely, dark caffeine goodness, ready when she was. Pouring a cup, she resolutely kept her back to the living room. She plopped some yogurt into a bowl, added some fruit and granola, and took it to the patio, carefully not looking at the couch.
Erin ate, drank, and tried to enjoy watching the world wake up. But her usual contentment was far away this morning. Her attraction to Ryan was ridiculous. Even without the inappropriate employer/employee relationship, she had no reason to believe he'd want her as anything but a boss. Eight years was a sizeable gap. Especially with a younger man. He probably thought she was nice enough, like an older sister. Yeah. Think kid brother.
An obnoxious rap thumped through the house. Must be Ryan's alarm. Good thing they were delivering his mattress today; he could move into the apartment and out of her living room.
But he wouldn't be moving out of her dreams anytime soon.
The patio door opened, and the subject of her dreams flopped into the chair next to hers, coffee in hand but still shirtless. Eyes on the mountains.
"Morning," he rumbled.
Even his voice was sexy. "Good morning. Did you sleep okay?"
"Yeah, it's not a bad couch. You?"
"Sure." She shrugged. "Other than getting your new mattress, what are you doing today?"
"Figured I'd get everything organized and put away. Doubt the delivery will be on time. But just in case it is..." Ryan stood up and stretched.
Oh, wow.
"Guess I'd better get going." He lifted his cup to her and left.
Erin gathered her things and followed, trying not to watch Ryan’s impressive shoulders and backside as he walked up the stairs. She shook her head. Focus, Erin, focus. Coffee. She poured herself another cup of coffee and returned to the patio. Besides catching up on her finances, she had something else on her calendar... Oh, rats. Dinner with Mom tonight. No. No, she wasn't having dinner with Mother tonight. Not unless she got one huge apology, and maybe not even then. She'd find her next project car, and research video surveillance systems, and—
The patio door opened. Ryan wore his usual T-shirt and cargo shorts and plopped into the lounger next to hers.
Erin swallowed. "You're welcome to use the shower upstairs."
He waved her invitation away. "Nah, I'll be in the apartment in five minutes. I'll take a shower after I get all my stuff put away." He lifted his eyebrows. "What are you doing today?"
"I'm going to look for a new project car and research surveillance systems. I'm sure my alarm company can do it, but it will be pricey."
Ryan sipped. "I might know somebody who could help you with that. I'd need to check and see how she's doing and if she'd be willing to come out and work with us, but...maybe."
"Someone you knew in the Air Force?"
"Yeah." He grimaced. "She was...injured badly. More mental than physical, although there's some of that too. Then her waste of space husband left her at the very worst of it, and she really spiraled down. She's recovering, but it's a slow process." He shook his head. "She's... it's rough."
"That sucks. I can't imagine abandoning my spouse."
Ryan sighed. "To be fair, sometimes you have to protect yourself. I know some guys who came back, but they're not back.” He tapped his temple. “They're dangerous. Mostly because they refuse to admit there's anything wrong. They drink and do drugs and won't do counseling. But that's not the case for Wiz. She's an awesome person, and her ex is a total loser." Ryan scowled and his fist clenched.
Erin hadn't noticed he'd left the prosthetic off until now.
"He didn't even have the guts to talk to her about it, just left her a note saying he couldn't do it anymore. Then a set of divorce papers showed up. Jerk."
Huh, he could talk; the subject had to be something, or someone, important to him. Maybe they could heal each other. Then she wouldn't have an inappropriate attraction—he'd be taken. "That sucks. Maybe it would be good for her to hang out here. You know, someplace different, with you, someone she knows well."
Ryan grimaced again. "Maybe. Hard to say with Wiz. She's not good at different. Not anymore. Which is too bad, since she's different, but...anyway, I'll see what I can do." He shrugged, then flashed a grin. "What are you doing tonight?"
Erin snorted. "I was supposed to have dinner with my mom, but unless she's left a huge, sincere apology on my voicemail, it's not happening. And that will never happen."
"Can't blame you there." Ryan shook his head slowly, lips clamped in a frown. "As annoying as my mom can be, at least I know she's got my back."
"Whereas mine prefers to stab me in mine." Erin shook it all off. "Anyway, I'm not sure. Probably just stay here and watch TV or read."
