The swim had done its job and Ryan felt a lot better as he strolled back up to the house. Relaxed enough, he figured, to tackle the two women who’d been in his thoughts today, for two very different reasons.
Sam, he’d approach later. He’d seen how on edge she was at the end of the meeting. What she needed right now was someone who’d make her laugh and take her out of her head for a while. Though it gutted him to acknowledge it, that man wasn’t him. From the way Lucas was making a beeline for her, Ryan knew he didn’t have to worry. The guy, as always, had her back.
It was daft to feel jealous as he watched the easy way Lucas hugged her. Or the way her face lit up a moment later as she gave him a playful shove.
Didn’t stop him feeling it.
Spotting Alice standing alone, staring down at her phone again, Ryan strode over to her. Just because he was crap at handling difficult, emotionally charged situations didn’t mean he shouldn’t try.
‘Can I get you a drink?’
Her head shot up. ‘Umm, thanks, but I’ve got one.’ She nodded to the untouched glass of wine on the table behind her.
Great. Now what did he say? ‘Looking forward to heading back tomorrow?’
A cloud crossed her face and Ryan mentally smacked himself round the head. She’s scared of her boyfriend, dimwit. That’s what you’ve come to talk to her about.
She avoided his eyes. ‘Not especially. I like it here.’
Silence descended.
‘Have you been to—’
‘Did you have a good—’
Ryan winced, wishing once again that he had Lucas’s charm. Sam’s easy way with people. ‘You first.’
‘I just wondered if you enjoyed your swim.’ Alice slipped the phone she seemed glued to into her jeans pocket. ‘Lucas told us that’s where you’d headed.’
‘Yeah. Bracing, I think, is the word they use. Frigging freezing, too.’
It squeezed a smile out of her. ‘I bet.’
Another round of silence, though this time less tense. Ryan dragged in a lungful of air and decided to go for it. ‘Look, about what I said yesterday at dinner.’ Ignoring the way she stilled, he pushed on. ‘I’m not here to pry. It’s your business. But I’d hate you to go through what my mum did.’ As her eyes looked everywhere but at him, Ryan’s heart sank. Stupid to think he could help, just plain stupid. She was probably as scared of him as she was her boyfriend. ‘Just know I’m here if you need me for anything.’ When she said nothing, he let out a long, slow breath. ‘Okay. I’m going to check out the food.’
He’d taken three steps away when he heard her quiet voice behind him. ‘Thank you.’
He turned, nodded and gave her a small smile, which she reciprocated. Holding tight to the small victory, he ambled over to the giant barbecue, his stomach rumbling as he sniffed the smoky, chargrilled aroma.
Becky appeared at his side, smirking up at him. ‘That’s the most animated I’ve seen you all day.’
‘I’m hungry.’
‘So I see.’ Her heavily lined eyes appeared to dissect him. ‘Sam didn’t get what she needed out of today.’
‘I know.’ The accusation in her stare pierced right through him. ‘You’re putting the blame for that on me?’
Becky shrugged. ‘I don’t think you helped.’
Annoyance vied with frustration. ‘You think I wasn’t trying?’
She didn’t back down from his glare. ‘Let’s just say I’m reserving my judgment.’
Yeah, he could see where this was heading. ‘You’re not just talking about today.’
She gave him a small smile. ‘You’re smart. I’ll give you that.’
‘Smart enough to know when to leave a conversation.’ He nodded tightly over to where the caterers were now serving out the food. ‘Have a good evening.’ He’d only taken two steps when Becky’s words brought him to a halt.
‘It’s not personal, you know.’ She gave him a genuine smile. ‘I don’t think you’re half as miserable as you make out. Plus, I have a sneaking admiration for your particular brand of honesty. It’s refreshing.’ Her smile faded. ‘But I told you before, if you hurt Sam, I’ll cut off your balls.’
Inside his shorts, he felt them shrivel. ‘Only if Lucas hasn’t throttled me first.’
Becky put a hand to her mouth and started to laugh. ‘Poor you, looks like you’ve had a two-pronged attack. Better make sure you don’t screw up.’
He laughed bitterly to himself as he turned away. Hard to screw up something he wasn’t being given the chance to start. And seems both Becky and Lucas thought if he ever did get lucky enough to go out with Sam, he’d be dumb enough, mean enough, bastard enough, to hurt her.
Clearly he still had a long way to go to earn their trust.
Of course, though their reactions didn’t say much about him, they said volumes about the woman who inspired that sort of fierce loyalty.
After the food had been eaten, the wine drunk and people had started to make their way to bed, Ryan wandered into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. That was where he finally found Sam, putting containers of leftover salad into the fridge. She looked weary. Not defeated, like the time he’d seen her crying in her office, but down.
‘Most people I know go out of their way to avoid salad.’
Her head shot up and she rolled her eyes. ‘Let me guess. Real men don’t eat salad?’ She frowned. ‘No, wait, that was quiche, not salad, wasn’t it?’
‘I’m not a fan of either.’
‘No, you wouldn’t be. Then again, I had you pegged as a steak and chips man, yet at the pub you ordered fish pie.’
He could hardly tell her it was because he couldn’t afford the steak. ‘Both beat a custard pie with dodgy savoury filling.’
A smile broke across her face, lifting some of the sadness from eyes he could stare into all day. ‘Good description.’
She continued to fuss around in the kitchen, putting leftovers into plastic boxes and shifting things round in the fridge to squeeze them in. Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling frustrated. He couldn’t talk to her here, in her parents’ kitchen, and she seemed in no hurry to leave. Finally, he blurted. ‘Do you fancy a walk?’
After slotting yet another container into the Tardis-like fridge, she slowly turned to face him. ‘A walk?’
‘Yeah, you know. One foot in front of the other.’
‘Where?’
‘The beach. The cliff. Anywhere.’ Even round the ruddy garden would be better than standing in the kitchen knowing anyone could walk in. It wasn’t just that he wanted her to himself. Not just that he wanted the chance to put into action all the thoughts he’d had every time his eyes had drifted to her sexy, wide mouth. Or her curvy backside.
He actually wanted to talk to her, too. Becky had been right; he’d been shit in the meeting today. Not because he hadn’t tried, but because his mind didn’t work like that. It was logical, not creative. Still, he thought he might be able to help her, if she’d let him.
Sam knew she was stalling. Truthfully, she was scared to go walking with Ryan, in the dark. Scared it might lead to a repeat of yesterday. At the memory of what had happened on the beach, a sharp thrill ran through her, perfectly highlighting the problem. His touch was addictive, and addiction was rarely a good thing.
‘Just to talk.’ His jaw tightened. ‘You don’t have to worry.’
‘I’m not worried about spending time alone with you.’
‘No?’
She looked him straight in the eye. ‘No.’
He gave her a crooked smile. ‘Maybe you should be.’
Her insides flip-flopped, and she could no more refuse him than she could look away. To hell with it. She could do with a tall, dark, devastatingly attractive distraction right now. ‘Okay, let’s head to the cliffs.’
She received another of those small, resolve-melting smiles. ‘As long as you promise not to shove me over.’
Laughter burst out of her. ‘Now who’s scared?’
‘You scare me all right, Sam Huxton.’ His dark eyes rested on hers, brimming with emotion she couldn’t define, but which caused an answering flutter in her stomach.
They walked to the footpath in an amicable silence, her hyperaware of him: his scent, his long stride, the occasional brush of his arm against hers.
When they were out of sight of the house his hand reached for hers, clasping it in his warm grip. As her fingers settled around it, her heart bounced against her ribs.
Wordlessly he led her to the bench overlooking the beach, and with a light tug he settled her down next to him. The sea looked almost black, the moon glinting off the water like a thousand tea lights. What with that, the warm evening, the quiet, it felt romantic. She wondered if Ryan felt it too. He had a raw, sexual energy, a rugged bluntness that seemed at odds with the idea of romance.
Yet here he was, holding her hand in the moonlight.
Taking a breath, she tried to calm her racing pulse. ‘What did you want to talk about?’
A half-smile played on his lips. ‘And they call me blunt.’
She laughed quietly, her body acutely aware of him as he rested their clasped hands on his thigh. ‘Sorry, I can do small talk if you like. How did you find the barbecue? Cremated enough to your liking?’
His smile broadened. ‘Let’s stick with blunt. Did you get anything from today you can work with?’
Okay then. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. ‘Bluntly, no.’
He nodded, glancing down at their hands, his thumb tracing distracting circles across her knuckles. ‘Whose idea was the Privacy app in the first place?’
She tried to focus on his question, and not on the gentle caress. ‘Does it matter?’
He glanced sharply at her. ‘Yes.’
So much for the romantic setting. It looked like she was going to spend this moonlit night talking about painful memories. ‘I can’t remember exactly what happened. Damien wanted to create an app that would make us millionaires. We bounced lots of ideas around one evening. The drunker we got, the crazier they became.’ Her throat tightened as the memories flooded back. It was the night they’d both found out they’d passed their first year at uni. They were young, in love, the world at their feet.
‘But who had the idea first?’ Ryan insisted.
She wanted him to make her forget everything, not hash it over. She wanted him to kiss her. ‘What’s the point of this?’
‘Just answer me.’
She wriggled her hand free. ‘Not if you speak to me like that.’
He heaved out a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. ‘Please, for the love of God, just tell me who came up with idea of designing an app that could let the user know which websites held personal data on them.’
Not angry, she realised belatedly, but frustrated. ‘It was my idea,’ she answered quietly. ‘Damien thought we should devise an app; I came up with the Privacy app.’
‘Exactly.’ He straightened, turning to look at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. ‘That wasn’t hard, was it?’
‘It would be easier if you’d tell me what you’re trying to achieve.’
‘Damien was just like me. A monkey.’ His eyes flickered over her face, landing directly on hers. ‘You’re the organ grinder.’
‘Is that supposed to mean something to me?’
He gave his head a light shake. ‘Do you really not see where this is leading?’
‘If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you the flipping question, would I?’
Laughter rolled out of him. ‘You’re hot when you’re riled, you know that?’
‘I’m about to get even hotter then, because you’re really starting to piss me off.’
‘Okay, okay, let me tell you what I thought was plainly obvious.’ He waved his hand behind him, indicating her parents’ house. ‘All this off-site stuff is very nice, but you didn’t need it.’
‘Now wait a minute—’
‘You’re so intent on getting the team involved,’ he continued, speaking right over her, ‘you’ve forgotten that you’re the brains behind this operation.’
His last few words brought her up short. And then his hands cupped her face and the anger drained from her.
‘The idea for the next app is in you, Sam,’ he said softly, sincerity ringing through his voice. ‘You just have to trust yourself enough, believe in yourself enough, to pull it out.’
She couldn’t think, couldn’t process what he was saying, couldn’t even breathe. His eyes were so fierce, yet his expression, his voice, so gentle. As what he was saying began to sink in, her heart lodged in her throat and a muddle of emotions battered her senses. Shock, because she’d assumed he’d wanted to talk about them. Not to discuss work. Fear, both that he was right and that he was wrong. Gratitude, great swathes of it, because even if he was wrong, his faith in her was almost overwhelming.
Threading through them all was an emotion that pulled at her heart. He cared, she realised. And that, more than anything else, made the tears start to fall.
‘Hey.’ He used his thumbs to wipe her wet cheeks. ‘Don’t frigging cry on me.’
She let out a strangled laugh. ‘It’s not like I can control it. Would you do me a favour?’
‘Anything.’ He looked over at the cliff edge. ‘As long as it doesn’t involve me walking closer to that.’
‘Ryan Black is scared of heights?’
‘Nah. Scared of falling from a height.’ When she started to laugh, he gave her a mock glare. ‘There’s a difference. What’s the favour?’
She shifted, leaning in to him. ‘Hold me for a while?’
Within seconds he’d lifted her onto his lap. As his arms wrapped around her shoulders, she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
‘That do you?’
She smiled against his T-shirt. ‘Perfect.’ And so, quite possibly, are you, she thought with a start.
Maybe perfect was pushing it, considering his more annoying habits. Yet right now, there was no denying, he was exactly what she needed.