Do I have a choice?
“Thank you,” she said instead. “So…um…”
“Miss Bishop, my son ordered dinner from you the last time we were in town and we enjoyed it very much. I would like to order from you again for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, um…”
“He doesn’t know I’m here and I thought I’d surprise him and bring dinner. I’m afraid he’s going to be a bit put-out with me showing up unannounced so I thought I’d cushion the blow by bringing food I know he’ll enjoy.” She smiled at Peyton again–but not as a woman talking to her son’s girlfriend would, but more like how one would smile at an…employee.
Seriously?
“Of course, Mrs. Ashford,” she forced herself to say because there was no way she was going to out herself like this. “Why don’t you tell me what it is you’d like to order and what time you’d like it delivered?”
“Wonderful! What would you recommend? We thoroughly enjoyed everything we had the last time, but I’d be open to trying something new.”
For the next thirty minutes they discussed the menu and Peyton was torn between genuinely liking the woman while getting angrier at Ryder. Apparently talking about food loosened Helen up a bit and she went from snooty to almost pleasant for a bit.
It didn’t last long.
Once the menu was set and they stood, Helen handed her a credit card and a twenty-dollar bill.
“Um…”
“Please charge everything on the card and that’s a tip for you for being so helpful. I appreciate the owner coming and sitting with me. I’m sure you don’t just do that for everyone.”
Peyton’s smile froze on her face and she had no idea how to respond.
“Honestly, I don’t know what my son loves so much about this sleepy little town, but hopefully once he gets his resort up and running, he’ll be able to improve things around here.” She smiled a little like one of those Disney villains from the old movies. “And I’m sure you’ll benefit from it as well, my dear. The Ashford name will certainly help bring a wealthier clientele to the area.”
If Peyton closed her eyes, she would swear she was listening to her own mother, and it made her feel a little sick to her stomach. Ryder rarely talked about his family–and definitely nothing specific–but this woman was seriously awful.
As if on cue, her phone rang and she excused herself. A quick glance at the screen showed Ryder’s name, but she was too upset to answer. Right now, she just wanted to get his mother out of here and she definitely didn’t want anyone to hear her conversation with Ryder.
Or the primal scream she desperately needed to get out.
So she rang up the order, gave Mrs. Ashford her receipt and confirmed all the arrangements to have dinner delivered later.
She simply left out that she was going to be the one delivering it.
And possibly dumping it all in Ryder’s lap.
Once the woman was gone, Peyton did her best to help in the kitchen, but within a span of five minutes she’d dropped a bowl of chopped celery and cut herself with a knife so…whipping off her apron, she stalked to her office and slammed the door.
She had barely gotten a breath out when the door pushed open and Ryder was standing in the doorway. His hair was mussed and he looked a little frantic. It shouldn’t have looked sexy, but it did and she had to tell her hormones to shut the hell up and not react.
“I tried calling you,” he said, mildly breathless. Then he glanced around the office and then out toward the dining room. “Is she still here?”
“No. She’s gone.”
“Oh, um…so what did she want?” Stepping further into the office, he shut the door. But the closer he got to her, the more Peyton moved away until she was safely seated behind her desk.
“She came in to order dinner,” she replied blandly. “Apparently she enjoyed my dishes the last time that she thought she’d surprise you and order from me again. Oh, and after she placed her order, she handed me her credit card and a twenty. You know, to tip the poor working folks.” Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms. “So obviously she has no idea we’re dating.”
The muttered curse came first before he raked a hand through his hair.
But other than that, he offered no excuses or explanation, and that pissed her off.
“What the hell, Ryder?” she cried, coming to her feet again. “I get that you’re not close to your family, but in the three months we’ve been together, you never once thought to mention me to them?”
“In my defense, we’re not a family who shares…anything. It wasn’t intentional and it certainly isn’t personal, Peyton.”
“It is to me! I just had to sit here with your mother for thirty minutes being treated like the hired help! How do you think she’s going to react when I’m the one who shows up not only with the food tonight but then sits down to eat it with you?” He glanced away and her stomach clenched. “Oh my God…you don’t want me to come to dinner, do you?”
It wasn’t a question.
Raking a hand through his hair again, he paced a few feet away and back. “Again, it’s not personal. I just think you wouldn’t be comfortable around them. Especially not after your meeting with my mother.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you kidding me right now?” There was no way to hide the sarcasm or accusation and she loved the fact that he winced at her tone.
“Peyton, you don’t understand. My family isn’t like yours. We’re…”
“Oh, I believe they’re more alike than you realize. For a few minutes there I could have sworn I was having a conversation with my own mother!” Walking around her desk, she approached him and poked him in the chest as she went on. “Do you remember how nervous I was to bring you to my brother’s party? I agonized over that for a week, but we went and we handled it. I stood up for you and myself and you’re going to stand here and tell me you can’t do the same for me? For us?”
“It’s not the same, Peyton!” he countered, his frustration showing. “Just…let me have dinner with them tonight and talk to them. Then tomorrow night we’ll all go out together, okay?”
The old Peyton–the one who was always a pushover–almost caved and agreed. But she found that persona didn’t work for her anymore, especially where Ryder was concerned. “No, it’s not okay. Actually, it’s insulting that you’re even asking it of me.”
His eyes went wide, as if he couldn’t believe she was disagreeing with him.
“If you’ll recall,” he said calmly, his voice low and rumbly. “I offered not to go to Mason’s party because I knew how uncomfortable you were. Are you going to stand here and tell me you won’t offer me the same courtesy?”
She stepped in even closer and glared up at him. “I didn’t forget, Ryder. You did, and I appreciated it, but ultimately I refused to insult you by telling you not to go. I was willing to handle the fallout because you mean that much to me. But if I’m alone in this, if I’m the only one with deep feelings, then…”
His arms were around her in the blink of an eye, pulling her in close. “You’re not the only one with deep feelings, Peyton,” he said fiercely, his gaze scanning her face. “I have never felt for anyone what I feel for you.”