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"Yes, I am." Ryan's expression was resolute. "And it's not a matter of you not protecting yourself. It's a matter of getting anyone who is going after you to stop and think for a second." He grinned suddenly. "Nobody is going to mistake me for you, dark or not."
Erin frowned. "I'm only a little shorter, and our hair is about the same length. In the dark? Maybe they would."
Ryan looked her up and down, then focused on her breasts. "Trust me, no man—and it's more likely to be a man—is ever going to mistake me for you. You're...curvy."
"Fat, you mean?"
He glared. "Don't you dare put words in my mouth. You're nowhere close to fat." The glare softened, his gaze traveling over her like warm honey on toast, and his voice rumbled. "Everything you've got is in all the right places."
Erin stared at him, arrested by the heat in his gaze, then remembered why they were having this conversation. Men are so stubborn. "Fine." She turned toward her room and spoke over her shoulder. "I'll be out in a minute, and it will be all yours."
She heard footsteps on the stairs. When she came out, he passed her in the living room. She glared at him for a minute, but she couldn't hold it. She was grateful he cared. "Goodnight. Sleep well, Ryan."
He shrugged. "Sure. Goodnight."
Chapter 19
Long Is a Four-Letter Word
Ryan plopped down on Erin's bed. Yep, still smells like her. Mm. It was gonna be another long night. Erin clearly didn't believe it when he told her she wasn't fat, but why, he wasn't sure. So many women had such twisted ideas about their bodies, and he didn't get it. He worked hard to stay in shape and happily bragged he had a great body. Ryan snorted. Other than the missing arm and the scars. If it was only the scars, he could probably have any woman he wanted. Maybe even Erin.
He punched his pillow. Yeah, right. He wasn't anywhere near her league. He longed to hold Erin and tell her how wonderful she was, especially when she put herself down. She was everything good in a beautiful package, and he'd love to prove it to her.
But it would never happen.
He turned and spotted the red backpack. Giving him Sarge's stuff was unexpected and bittersweet. And a little weird. But he couldn't imagine the Sarge being angry, not after four years. The Sarge wasn't a selfish guy; he'd have told Erin to move on years ago. He put on a possessive show for his troops, for good reason. A lot of the guys were immature idiots. But now, he'd want Erin to have a life, a real life, with a husband and a family. Sarge wouldn't consider broken, beat-up Ryan Walsh a good choice for that role.
No sense in worrying about it because it wouldn't happen. He wouldn't get the woman of his dreams. But he could still have a friend, a good friend, and have some fun. He'd endure the frustration. It was a small price to pay. There wasn't too big a price to pay if he got to stay close to Erin.
He punched the pillow again, checked his .45 was on the nightstand, and counted sheep. He had to get some sleep—more than the nap this afternoon. Sheep. 1, 2, 3...
Ryan's alarm blared. Time for coffee. Yay. Coffee. He pried open his eyes and sat up, shocked. Where was he? He was in Erin's room. Erin's bed. Water splashed, muffled by a door. Erin's bathroom was next to the bed. He could almost reach out and touch the doorknob.
But he wouldn't. He stumbled away from temptation and into the kitchen. The coffeemaker hissed, finishing the brew cycle, the dark chocolate notes of the Ethiopian blend spiraling up and jump-starting his brain. He poured a cup, sipped, and carried it upstairs to shower. Finished, he put on shorts, his prosthesis, and another Coffee and Cars T-shirt. As he'd asked, Erin got long sleeves but a size too small for such thin material. They breathed better than heavy cotton, and they were super soft, but they fit like a glove. Many customers appreciated the sizing error, but some of them thought he was there for their entertainment rather than making coffee. Probably why Erin chose this size. He'd never been easily embarrassed, but since he started working at Coffee & Cars, he blushed all the time. Some of those "nice" little old ladies had downright dirty minds. Ryan had a whole new appreciation for the harassment women experienced every day.
He plodded down the stairs and back to the coffeepot. It took a lot more caffeine to get him fully awake these days. Erin sat on the patio, sipping from a mug, so he joined her. "Hey."
"Hi. Sleep well?" She sipped. Dark circles under her eyes threatened to drown her freckles.
Her lack of sleep was certainly not the same as his. Maybe she missed her bed; it was comfortable. Although it would be better if she shared—nope. Not going there. "Sure. You?"
Erin wrinkled her upper lip. "Okay. Ready for another day in the coffee trenches?"
"Yeah, bring 'em on. I'm sure Wiz is up." She'd probably stayed up all night, working.
"Whether she is or not, I told her I'd be over there at five-forty, so I guess I'd better get going." Erin rose from the chair.
"Okay. Let me grab the bakery box, and I'll walk with you." Ryan downed his coffee and pried himself from the chair, following Erin inside, trying to look at something other than her. Box in hand, they left, Erin locking the door behind him. At the shop, she let him inside and secured it behind him. If she didn't, they'd have a line of impatient customers at the front counter before they had the morning routine done. If they rushed, they'd miss something and slow the orders down. Ryan had learned that the hard way.
Erin fired up Izzy and opened the safe, grabbing the cash drawer. Ryan pulled them both an espresso and grabbed pastries before he started brewing for the already-waiting customers.
Erin splashed some cream and sipped her espresso. "Oh, Ryan, make a skinny double latte for Wiz, too. I'll take it out to her."
"Sure." He drew the espresso, then poured the milk, trying to imitate the online demo. The milky heart was a little lopsided, but Wiz would appreciate the sentiment. He hoped.
Erin grabbed it off the counter. "Aw, you did it! Awesome. I love it." She carried the cup into the auto shop. Ryan turned to the drive-through for the next order.
As Ryan handed the driver his coffee, Erin returned. The customer pulled away, yelling about stock prices.
