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He jumped, his heart racing, then returned to sliding on a pillowcase, keeping his back to her. "Sure, I did." Ryan cleared his throat, trying to sound like a grown-up instead of a teenage boy. "I made myself some PBJs for lunch. Didn't think you'd mind."
"Of course not. I told you to make yourself at home, didn't I? Besides, that sounds good. Think I'll do the same, then I'm heading to the grocery store. Wiz said she'd come over for dinner tonight, so I'm going to get some chicken to grill, and some more greens, and other stuff, and we'll have a Greek-style dinner." Erin's tone was cheerful, if forced.
"That sounds great. I'm going to work out while you're gone, unless you need help. I haven't done a good workout for a few days." He fussed with the pillow.
"Sounds like a plan. Maybe we can figure out where to put your pullup bar tomorrow after Wiz leaves."
"Sure." Ryan finished, turned, and walked out of her bedroom, brushing past her, heading straight up the stairs and into the upstairs bedroom, closing the door behind him. Whew. Safe. He plopped down on the bed. Big mistake. It smells like Erin. He'd wait until he heard Smoky leave and then work out.
He was finally ready to move ahead with his life, accept that his arm was gone but still go for what he really wanted, and boom, it all blew up in his face. Again.
Chapter 20
Run Away
Ryan ran up the stairs, stiff with tension. Weird. She made her sandwich, scraping the dregs of the strawberry jam from the jar. She needed more from the grocery store than dinner ingredients. A Costco run loomed.
She ate at the kitchen table, making a combined grocery and task list. Once she finished, she grabbed her list and purse and then fired up Smoky. Erin wriggled a little in the vibrating seat. The rumble never got old. Nor did the sensation of sheer power.
She rolled to the highway and, as usual, dropped the hammer until she was up to the speed limit. Only then did she consider Sam's words. Ryan was off limits. He was too young for her and an employee, but she hadn't really accepted the situation until Sam confirmed it out loud. Erin sighed. Clearly, Sam was interested, and Deb admired Ryan, too. He could certainly do worse, and both her friends needed a loyal guy like Ryan. But every time she tried to picture one of her friends with him, all she could see was herself. Letting go was insanely difficult.
But she had to. She had no alternatives.
She would insist Ryan join the three of them for dinner next time. She'd make some excuse to leave early, so he'd have to get a lift home from Deb or Sam. She was sure either of them would be happy to give him a ride—and more.
She squealed the tires coming off the line. She still had Smoky.
Erin pulled into the bank drive-through, turning Smoky off so she could chit-chat with the teller. After taking her deposit slip from the drawer, she glanced at it and grinned. Ryan was good for her bottom line, that was for sure, and she couldn't afford to lose him. Not for any reason, but especially not a reason that would end in heartache for all of them.
He wouldn't want her; even though he'd made comments about her being hot, Erin didn't hold a candle to Deb or Sam. If she made any kind of personal overture, he'd probably recoil in disgust. Or worse, he'd be so offended that he’d sue her for sexual harassment, like Sam suggested. She could lose everything she'd worked so hard to build. She didn't really think Ryan was that kind of guy, but sometimes, people hid their true natures for a long time.
Erin got everything on her grocery list, then drove slowly through town and pulled into Deb's bakery. Since it was Friday, she didn't have a pickup, but she still had time to see Deb. Which was good because she seriously needed some cheering up. If Deb wasn't happy either, Erin could eat her feelings in cupcakes.
"I'm decorating!" Deb called.
At the front of the shop, Erin gave Deb a one-armed hug, relieved to see a normal-size cake in front of her. "Did you hear the door?"
"No, Smoky." Deb peered around her. "No silent and sexy today?"
"Nope. He stayed home to work out."
"Ooh." Deb leered, her eyebrows bouncing ridiculously. "Now there's something I'd like to watch."
"I'm pretty sure you could if you played your cards right." Erin tried to keep her voice even and unemotional, but she failed.
Deb put down her pastry bag and turned to her, eyes wide. "You're kidding, right?"
"No. Why would I?" She had no choice. Ryan was too young, and he worked for her; the risks were too great.
"Erin, I met the guy all of one time, but it's pretty clear he only has eyes for you." Deb glanced at the ceiling in exaggerated despair. "Ryan glanced at me, took one long look at my chest—which is completely normal; every guy looks—then fastened those pretty eyes right back on you. Even when he was talking to me—talking might be an exaggeration; giving me one-word answers—he was mostly looking at you. And it wasn't just a guy who likes your body type more than mine. Nope. He's got it bad, for you, the whole fabulous package." She stabbed her finger at Erin's chest.
Erin shook her head. "Deb, he's an employee, and he's eight years younger than me. I can't go there."
Deb grinned. "Sure you can. It would definitely be consensual."
"Until it ended, which it would. Eight years, Deb. He's not the 'settle down forever' kind of guy I need. And when it ended, he could easily file a sexual harassment suit against me, and I'd probably lose everything. Sam even told me that." Of course, Sam was attracted to him too. She wasn't exactly neutral.
Deb reared back, scowling. "Sam said what?"
