At least she’d sprung for new, grown-up furniture.
The long, white-washed oak dining table occupied the space between the kitchen and front door. It looked pretty great… when it wasn’t smothered under an obscene amount of craft supplies. Four days of dishes were stacked in the tiny sink in the U-shaped kitchen. Stan was currently shoving his face in the load of week-old clean laundry that sat half-folded on the coffee table in the living room.
“Given your get-up, I was expecting a Christmas tree,” he said, his gaze lingering on her legs.
The way he looked at her was downright sinful. Sheep be damned. Booty call back on!
“I always get my tree from Carson at the Solstice Celebration. I had no idea he wasn’t going to sell them this year,” she told him.
“What’s in the totes?” He nodded toward the four red and green plastic totes stacked behind her couch.
“Christmas decorations.” There were a lot of things she hadn’t gotten around to lately.
“Whoa.” Ryan’s eyes widened as a gray cat popped out of a wreath on top of the table. It narrowed its yellow eyes at him and tore across the table before disappearing under the couch.
“That’s McClane,” she said, finding her voice. “The black one is Holly.”
“On the way over here, I was trying to predict how many animals you’d have. So far, unless you have a herd of goats upstairs, I’m disappointed.”
“Said the guy who brought a sheep with him!”
“He’s basically the same thing as a dog,” he argued, unpacking the food.
“No goats. Yet,” she said. “Three cats and some fish outside in the pond.”
Willis waddled out from behind the armchair in the living room, a strip of plaid ribbon wrapped around his foot.
“Oh yeah. And a duck,” she finished.
Stan gave Willis a wide berth when the duck waddled in his direction.
“I thought you’d have at least four dogs. And I was betting on a blind one and one with three legs,” Ryan said while he rummaged through her cabinets.
“Willis has a limp courtesy of a groundhog trap if that helps. But my friend Layla—the deputy—takes all the stray dogs. Her schedule is a little friendlier to needy pets.”
He set bowls, plates, and utensils on the counter and opened the containers.
It smelled heavenly. “What are you doing here, Ryan?” she asked finally.
“My parents have dinner together once a week without fighting,” he announced, plating sandwich halves with an unexplained bitterness.
“Uh. How dare they?”
He strode to the table with a plate and bowl in hand. She sat when he indicated a chair.
“They divorced when I was a teenager and were still fighting when I left for college,” he explained.
“Okay.” Her stomach growled when he put a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a chicken salad sandwich in front of her. It was her favorite comfort food meal.
“My oldest sister called to tell me she was pregnant months ago,” he continued as he headed back to the kitchen for his food. “I didn’t pick up or remember to call her back.”
“Ouch,” Sammy said, picking up her spoon and watching him.
He sat next to her, looking frustrated. Restless.
“I poured all my energy into being the best accountant in the firm. It was stable, predictable. There was a map to be followed. The outcomes could be anticipated. And the rug still got pulled out from under me. I walked into that conference room having no idea it would be my last time. I didn’t have a defense prepared. I had no clue there was anything to defend.”
She winced for him. The man who hated surprises had been dealt the worst kind. And the hits just seemed to keep coming.
He picked up half of a ham and cheese on marbled rye bread and stared at it. “My parents didn’t know I broke up with my ex-girlfriend a year ago even though I talk to my mother every Tuesday.”
Sammy held up a hand. “Hang on. There’s a lot to unpack in that sentence.”
“What? That I’m anal enough to schedule phone calls with my mother but I don’t bother telling her when I end a relationship or get fired? She thinks I took vacation time to be here, by the way.”
She let out a surprised laugh. “Why does she think that?”
His shoulders jerked up and then dropped. “Because that’s what I insinuated.”
“It sounds like you’ve had an interesting day.”
“I was sitting there, surrounded by an entire lifetime of someone else’s paperwork and family photos, and I didn’t know what to do next. I always know what to do next,” he lectured, waving his spoon at her.
“You’re not here because you think I know what the next step is, are you?” she asked. She couldn’t even craft her way through a few dozen wreaths.
“No. I wanted to see you. Because since I walked into that conference room a week ago expecting to be made partner, I’ve had this ball of ice in my gut. The only time it goes away is when I’m with you.”
Her internal squealing was deafening.
“Oh,” she said on a breathy sigh.
He looked at her over a spoonful of soup. “That’s it? ‘Oh’?”
“I’m processing. Slowly. I’m a little sluggish at night. Besides, there are a million things you could mean by that statement.”
“But you know I don’t mean a million things,” he said, very, very seriously.
She swallowed hard. “Maybe you could narrow it down for me?”
“I’ve never been around anyone so…” He glanced around them, at the tangle of ribbons and ornaments, the loops of grapevines, clippings of pine. “Chaotic,” he decided.
Booty call off. She willed the hair on her legs to grow longer. “Gee, thanks.”
“Someone so chaotic, who made me feel comfortable, safe, challenged, intrigued,” he clarified.
Okay, so it wasn’t an “I’d like to rip your pants off and satisfy you six ways to Sunday” kind of statement, but it wasn’t an “ol’ buddy, ol’ pal” punch in the shoulder either.
“You’re going sixty miles an hour from dawn to dusk, changing directions, reacting, adapting. You got me on a horse when I should have been eyeballs-deep in bank statements. No one distracts me from a puzzle,” he said. “But it turns out that you’re the more interesting puzzle.”
Now that was pretty freaking romantic, Sammy decided. Booty call back on.
“You reminded me of something I’d forgotten a long, long time ago.”
“What’s that?” she asked, staring hard at his mouth.
“That sometimes it’s okay to let go. That maybe I don’t have to be in complete control of every facet of my life. Maybe it’s okay if I let things happen.”
“I reminded you of that?” she asked softly.
“You did.”
She pursed her lips and considered. “Damn. I’m smart.”
Stan wandered over to the table and nudged her with his nose. She gave him a scratch between the ears.
They ate in companionable silence, Sammy’s brain turning over everything he’d said.
When he was done, Ryan pushed his plate back. “A week ago, I was doing everything I’d set out to do. I had the biggest client list in the firm. I was on track for partner. I had a down payment on a new, bigger condo. But I never saw this coming.”