Chapter Eight
Heather
He was almost one block away, leaning against a lamppost, legs crossed at the ankles. Straightening up, he walked at the same pace with me, and we met at the next crossing. I had no idea how to act. Was I supposed to be mad at him? I wasn’t even sure... but I found myself smiling. I’d gotten caught in his charms again without even realizing it. How was that even possible?
When he came close enough, I immediately identified the culprit: those dimples of his. I couldn’t be mad at someone who had dimples this gorgeous when he smiled.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I said. We’d stopped at a corner where we risked being trampled by passersby, a mix of Wall Streeters leaving work and tourists come to see the glittering glass buildings at sunset.
“I was waiting for you.”
“I thought I’d get to interview you today too.” My voice sounded mutinous.
“I sense I’m about to get my ass roasted.”
I almost melted under the intensity in his eyes but stayed put.
“You feel like you deserve it?”
“Utterly and completely.”
I laughed. What was going on?
“Well, okay, then. Why did you act so... I don’t know—not like you?”
“Owen wasn’t happy that we know each other. I didn’t want anyone giving you a hard time.”
“That still doesn’t explain why I didn’t get to interview you.”
Ryker cocked a brow, smiling sardonically, as if the answer was obvious. Well, it wasn’t to me.
He stepped closer, bringing a hand to my cheek, pressing the back of his fingers against my jaw. The contact electrified me. For one brief second, it felt as if the traffic had stopped, the passersby vanished into thin air. I was only aware of his skin against mine, his warm breath on the tip of my nose.
“Because I didn’t want to push our luck... I don’t think I can be in the same room with you for longer than five minutes and not make it clear to everyone what my intentions are.”
I was so overwhelmed by him that I didn’t know what to do with myself. This close, the leather and cypress in his cologne permeated the air. They were much fainter than at lunch, but strong enough to ensnare my senses.
“Ryker....”
“I haven’t handled this too well. Let me make it up to you with dinner.”
“Ah... you did say you want to lure me back to Mary’s burgers. But I can’t tonight.”
“Can’t or won’t?” His eyes flashed, determined and demanding.
“Avery’s chorus lessons finish at seven.”
He flashed me a triumphant smile. “That still leaves half an hour.”
“The train ride takes twenty minutes.”
“I’ll walk you to the station, then. I can give you insights about the fund. All unofficial, of course. But you reporters like that, don’t you? Insider knowledge and all that.”
“How come you’re even done with work? There were still lots of people inside.”
“The perks of being a director. Hours aren’t as long, though when we have a deadline, I have to pull all-nighters occasionally. If you get past the initial years when you have to practically sleep at the office, things get better.”
“That makes sense. Where do you live?” I asked as we walked side by side.
“Nearby,” he said vaguely.
I grinned. “Let me guess. Penthouse overlooking Central Park?”
He laughed. “Nah. Bachelor pad on Duane.”
“Thought you didn’t like the noise of downtown.”
“I dislike long commutes even more.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
I was relieved we were walking. I was hoping that would help diffuse this tension between us, make me less aware of this constant thrum in my body when he was near me.
I took a deep breath when we crossed the street together with a million other pedestrians. The smell of spring was thick in the air. Unfortunately, that thrum hadn’t lessened, not one bit. And when Ryker placed an arm around my shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world? That thrum turned to an inferno.
“What are you and Avery doing tonight?” he asked as we descended the steps to the station.
“Nothing special. Just painting our nails, ordering pizza.”
I felt all warm and fuzzy just because he was asking about her. Ryker was different from anyone I’d met before. What would it feel like to be with him? No, no, no. I couldn’t allow myself to even think about that. There was no more room for risks in my life right now.
I searched my brain for a way to change the subject.
“Oh, by the way... I got wind today that your last name is Winchester.”
“It is.”
“As in the Winchesters behind the Ballroom Galas?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit! That’s amazing. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It didn’t come up.”
“Well, I think the whole thing is just genius. I’d love to go to one.” Their galas raised a lot of money for charity. They ran several events every year, and one never knew just how many events would take place in a year—which made invitations even more coveted. The station was semi-empty. I groaned when I looked at the digital display. The train had a five-minute delay.
“I’ll wait with you,” Ryker said.
“You don’t have to.”
“And miss out on five more minutes with you? No chance. I’m staying.” His voice was determined, final.
I shivered.
“And warm,” he added, stepping closer. God, I shouldn’t want him, shouldn’t want this, but I did. His nearness, his touch... I wanted all of it. When he lifted his hand, I felt fire dancing on my nerve endings in anticipation. Where would he touch me? My waist, my shoulder? He surprised me by cupping my cheek. For a brief second, I thought he’d rest his thumb on my lips, but he pressed it gently on my jaw before he slid his hand to the back of my head. He brought me closer until his mouth was barely touching mine, kissed one corner softly... then captured my lips. His kiss was demanding and determined. A shudder ran through me. I was consumed by his passion—the way his fingers first pressed against my skin, then tugged at my hair. I needed to be closer to him, touch more of him. When I felt him pop open a button of my jacket, sliding his hand around my waist, my knees weakened. I didn’t think I could feel that skin on skin contact and not make a fool of myself.
He slid his hand slowly around to my back, bunching the fabric of my sweater in his fist. I felt his fingers hover a fraction of an inch away from my skin. The anticipation was killing me. When he splayed his palm wide on my lower back, I moaned against his mouth.
Far from giving me any reprieve, Ryker intensified the kiss until I felt completely owned. That tiny skin-on-skin contact sent me spiraling. I had no idea how I could react like that.
I lost all sense of time and place... right until the sound of the train snapped me back to reality.
Ryker reacted first, taking his hand away and buttoning my coat again. When I attempted to pull away, he kept me in place, threading his fingers through my hair, resting his thumb just above the shell of my ear.
“No, just a minute. We have one more minute until the train arrives.”