Alison bonked her head on the wood several times. “You should have called,” she said.
“If you’re with a guy in there, just say so,” Ryan said.
Tempting as it was to her pride to let him think that, she couldn’t do it. “No. I’m . . . not dressed for company.”
“I’ve already seen you. And since when am I company?”
“Since you dumped me.”
“Alison. Open the door.”
“I’m wearing laundry-day clothes.”
“So? I’ve seen you in nothing.”
Alison looked over at Emma, who was grinning. Alison gave her the “shoo” hands.
Emma didn’t shoo, instead she stood there riveted as she soaked up every word. Alison rolled her eyes and turned back to the door. “I look good in nothing. I don’t look good in laundry clothes.”
Ryan gave a rough laugh. “You look great in nothing. But you look cute when you’re not all done up in your armor. I like it.”
Emma covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laugh. Alison jabbed a finger at her to knock it off. “Cute?” she repeated back to Ryan. “You need to take that back.”
“Can’t. Also, the way you look right now is actually one of my favorite looks on you.”
This finally got her opening the door again. “Yeah?”
Ryan looked Alison over from wild hair to her bare toes and smiled. “Yeah. And definitely cute.”
“You’re a nut.” A nut who owned her heart . . .
Ryan caught sight of Emma and nodded to her. “Hello. You’re the new partner.”
“Emma Harris,” Alison told him, watching Emma smile easily and welcoming in an effortless way Alison couldn’t have managed on her best day. Maybe she should be taking lessons from Emma instead of Google. “We’re working late.”
“Well, one of us is,” Emma teased. “The other is flirting.”
“I’m not—” Alison started, then sighed when Ryan laughed along with Emma. Then her so-called partner caught sight of Alison’s face, clearly read the murderous intent, and smirked. “I’ll be in the back if you need anything.”
Alison waited until they were alone. “What are you doing here?” She cupped Killer’s face and kissed her little button nose. “Hi, baby. It’s so good to see you.”
“Thanks, baby,” Ryan said.
She rolled her eyes, but those two words, spoken in that low sexy voice of his, made her quiver. And ache. She missed their late nights in bed together, talking. Not talking. He’d made her feel good, inside and out. She hated that she hadn’t done the same for him. “I thought you were on a date.”
“Why?”
“Because you were at Whiskey River.”
“And you know this because . . .”
Alison winced. “I might still have you on Find My Friends.”
“I was there with Simon.” His gaze held hers. “I’m here because I’ve got an early morning with a new client. I was wondering if you wanted to take Killer for me.”
“It’s almost midnight. How did you even know where I would be?”
Ryan gave a small smile. “I’ve still got you on Find My Friends as well.”
She stared at him for a beat, saw the reluctant good humor in his eyes, and smiled back. She took Killer from him and kissed the dog’s face all over.
Killer smiled her rare, sweet doggy smile and soaked up the love like it was her due.
“I missed you so much,” Alison told her. “You ridiculous mini Napoleon you.”
“She missed you too.”
Alison looked up into his eyes. “Thanks,” she said softly. “Means a lot.”
He nodded and turned to go.
“Ryan?”
He paused.
“Do you really have an early morning, or did Simon open his big fat trap and tell you that I’m sad?”
“Are you sad?”
“No,” she lied.
He tugged playfully on a strand of her wild and crazy hair. “What if I told you I was sad too?”
She stopped breathing.
He stared at her for a long beat, then dropped his hand. “Night, Alison.” And then he was gone.
“But . . . are you?” she whispered at the closed door. Damn, now her heart hurt. He was sad. And that was on her. She set Killer down, who immediately raced over to a sleeping Hog and started yelling at him with her shrill bark.
Hog jumped up and tried to run around the counter, but slipped and fell. This didn’t slow him down. He scrambled to his feet and nearly mowed over Emma, who was coming to his rescue. Crouching down, she hugged Hog tight. “Baby, all you have to do is stop running.” She cupped his huge face and looked into his sweet, worried eyes. “Just stand up and stare her down, one time, and she’ll stop.”
Killer was still barking.
“Killer,” Emma said calmly but firmly. “Stop.”
Killer stopped.
Hog blinked in surprise.
“See?” Emma said. “You just have to let her know she’s not the boss of you.” She looked over his head at Alison. “We’re all equals here.”
“Hmm.”
Emma smiled. “Ryan misses you.”
“He didn’t say that.”
“He brought you Killer in the middle of the night. The man misses you.”
“You were eavesdropping.”
“Of course I was.”
“Then you know he brought me Killer because he has an early meeting.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “If you believe that, you’re not nearly as smart as I thought you were.”
“You think I’m smart?”
“Not anymore.” Emma paused. “Okay, yes, I think you’re smart. Smart and bitchy.”
That ripped a laugh from Alison. “Are you always this honest?”
“Only since my coma. You know what you need?”
“More wine?”
“A plan,” Emma said. “A plan to win him over with your smartassy, bitchy brilliance.”
Alison was speechless for a full minute. Her throat actually felt tight.
“What?” Emma asked.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Emma blinked. “Are you saying I’m the nicest person in your life?”
“Who’s not related to me, yeah. Terrifying, isn’t it?”
“Very. But while you think I’m so nice, what’s your getting-Ryan-back plan?”
“I’m working on it.”
“I feel like that’s code for ‘I don’t know,’” Emma said.
“I’m starting with being his friend.” By practicing . . . sometimes on you. A fact she wisely kept to herself.
“How are you being his friend?”
Alison sighed. “It’s still in the planning stage.”
Emma snorted and grabbed her iPad. She opened up a blank note and began to type.
ALISON’S MASTER PLAN:
Be his friend—i.e., be there for him.
Pay attention to him and show interest—e.g., ask questions.
Respect him—e.g., care about the things he cares about, like his family and friends.