Page 46 of Bitter Haven

"Good. It will keep you safe." He yawned, a long, drawn-out yawn with a big stretch. Erin watched, the sliver of abs below the T-shirt enticing. "I'm beat. How about you?"

"Yeah. I'm going to turn in." She walked to her bedroom, but Ryan grabbed her arm outside the door. Erin turned back. "What?"

"You're sleeping upstairs." Ryan jerked his head toward the stairs. "I'll sleep in your room."

"Don't be ridiculous." Erin frowned at him. "I'll sleep in my room. That's why we set up the trip wires. Besides, I'll close the windows, and it will be hot in there."

"So?" He cocked his head.

"It's my house. If someone's going to suffer the heat, it will be me." Erin raised both eyebrows at him and looked at her arm where Ryan's hand held her. He let go and stepped back. She entered her bedroom, closing the door in Ryan's face. She changed into lightweight shorts and a tank top and did her normal night routine. When she opened the bathroom door, Ryan sprawled across her bed, wearing only shorts. She stopped dead. Oh. Desire sang from her head to her toes and everywhere in between. "What do you think you're doing?" Her words came out breathless and raspy, instead of indignant. She was making a fool of herself.

"I'm sleeping in your bed. You can sleep upstairs." Ryan looked smug.

And the desire disappeared. She didn't need a big brother or a dad. She could take care of herself. Erin scowled at him. "No, you aren't." She pointed at the door. "Out."

Ryan met her eyes for what seemed like forever, then scanned her body all the way up and down. “You're welcome to sleep in your bed, but I'm not moving." He stared right into her eyes and then let his gaze go back down her body.

Whoa. Erin thought about calling his bluff, but from the way Ryan looked at her, she wasn't so sure it was a bluff. His phone chimed on the nightstand, and he turned away to grab it. Ryan's backside was just as good. Come on, Erin, get it under control. Employee, eight years younger, remember? Erin snatched her pillow from under his head and stomped out. Not that stomping on the thick carpet did much good. She could hear him chuckle. Men. Always so sure of themselves. That was better. Righteous anger—yep, that was what the situation called for. Not ridiculous desire, anger.

She grabbed her phone and weapon from the kitchen counter and tramped upstairs to the guest bed, plopping down on it. Men. She would never get to sleep, not with her body humming at the memory of Ryan in her bed. Rats.

Chapter 16

Old Friends, New Friends

Ryan watched Erin stamp out of her bedroom, her backside snapping back and forth. Sierra Hotel. So sexy. And the timing on that last text from Wiz couldn't be worse. He thought, for a second, that she might call his non-existent bluff. He'd tried to make his interest clear without being crude, but Erin left as soon as he looked away. And now he buzzed with desire. He sighed. Another long, sleepless night.

Ryan put his hand under his head, then pulled it away. It never felt right with just one. That must be why Erin left; she saw his residual arm when he grabbed his phone. He looked at his slightly scarred stump. It didn't look bad, really, but it didn't look good either. It definitely didn't look normal. No one could really want him, not in his damaged state. It was good that she'd left. If Erin had joined him in the bed, he'd have rolled on top of her and kissed the breath out of her. But he would have forgotten and touched her with his residual arm, and she might have freaked out. Then everything would go wrong. He'd have to find a new job, and a different place to live, and she'd still be in danger, and he wouldn't be able to protect her. Not that Erin wasn't capable of protecting herself, especially once Wiz got done with her magic, but he'd feel a lot better if he was around to help. Ryan wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened while he wasn't around.

No, it's better this way. Harder to sleep, but then he was on guard duty, so that wasn't a bad thing, necessarily. Of course, if she'd stayed, they wouldn't be sleeping either, but they would be a lot more distracted. Ryan grinned. He'd do everything he could to keep her completely distracted. Accomplishing that mission would be fun. But the last time he'd made a woman call out his name, he'd still had two hands. Shoot.

At least he still had one. Which was more than some guys had, so he should be content, if not happy. Ryan punched the pillow she'd left and flopped down. The pillow smelled like her—soap, coffee, a hint of citrus from the hand cleaner, and something too faint to put a label on, but it said "Erin" to him. He might not sleep, but he should try. Tomorrow was likely to be a really long day—Wiz would want to get everything done so she could scurry back to her fortress of solitude. Anger and sadness overwhelmed his previous mood—nothing like a real-life horror story to kill arousal. Poor Wiz.

The next morning, Ryan watched Erin out of the corner of his eye. She was touchy, and dark circles underlined her eyes. Maybe she hadn't slept well. He could hope it was caused by frustration like his lack of sleep, but that was unlikely. She was probably worried about Wiz.

He was worried about Wiz, too. What if she broke down in the middle of nowhere? His phone chimed, and he pulled up the text. Relief let him sag into the couch. Wiz made it to Missoula. He texted the address to her again, just in case. "Wiz is in Missoula. She should be here in forty to fifty minutes."

"Whew." Erin's shoulders dropped. "I'm glad she made it. I think we've got everything on her list, so hopefully, she'll be happy." She bit her lip. "How do you want to play this?"

Ryan tore his gaze away from her lips. He'd missed what she said. "Huh?"

"When Wiz gets here. Do you want to go out and meet her, or should I, or should we let her walk in on her own, or what?" Erin spread her hands, a slightly perplexed look on her face. "I don't want to upset her."

"Yeah." Ryan considered how Wiz was likely to react, but he really didn't know. "I think we just let her come in. She knows this is a business. She even knows what it looks like. I took a bunch of pictures for her. If she wants something, she'll let me know, I think."

"Okay. We'll play it by ear."

"Yeah." Ryan went back to putting together some of the equipment Wiz had asked for. Erin was working on another piece. They had almost finished when a tall, white panel van pulled up, one of the fancy Mercedes versions. Wiz got a new vehicle. Surprising.

A few minutes later, Wiz entered, stepped to the side, and scanned the entire room. She walked to the wall, along it, and then to the table they were using. She wore baggy black cargo pants with combat boots and an oversized black hoodie. Beneath the hood, her long black hair was pulled back tight from her pretty, slightly elfin face. A semi-auto was holstered on her thigh, and knife handles peeked from below the hoodie’s cuffs. Her belt carried a taser, bear spray, and more knives, all of them black. A small black backpack completed her "don't mess with me" look. Wiz stood to the side of the table so her back wouldn't be to either door.

"Long time, no see, Ryan." She didn't smile, offer her hand, or get close to the table.

He grinned at her, unable and unwilling to hide his happiness at seeing her for the first time in what seemed like forever. "It's good to see you. Really good." He tipped his head toward Erin. "This is Erin. She owns the place."

"Hi, Wiz." Erin smiled but stayed seated and left her hands on the table. "Thanks so much for coming out to help me. I really appreciate it. Please let me know if you need or want anything at all. You're doing me a huge favor."

"No problem." Wiz backed away from them and shot glances around the room, but her eyes darted back to them.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com