Girls of Summer(32)

Juliet didn’t respond. She always chose not to talk about matters she really knew nothing about, and sitting next to Ryder Hastings, it seemed she knew nothing about almost everything.

After a comfortable silence, Ryder asked, “Music?”

“Sure.”

Ryder chose a classical station and the car filled with such lilting, peaceful music Juliet felt lifted to another sphere. What an irresistible man, she thought, who could combine the future and the past so effortlessly.

“What did you think of my talk?” Ryder asked.

“I thought it was great. Important. Your organization sounds like it will make a significant change around here.”

“We’re certainly going to try,” Ryder said. “And not just on the East Coast.”

“Isn’t there a new boat that trawls for plastic?”

“There is. But it disturbs the ocean environment.”

“Wow.” Juliet slumped, feeling sad. “The human animal is a bad creature.”

   Ryder quietly disagreed. “Not always. Not all of us.”

She shot him a cynical look. “Like you, for instance?”

“And like you.”

Juliet snorted. “I work for Kazaam. I build websites about cute domestic animals. I keep the websites running and organize teams all over the country. Fun, but not what you’d call environmental work.”

Ryder gave her a warm glance. “I read a study that watching cute animal videos can lower blood pressure. So you can consider yourself a health worker.”

Juliet laughed. “Right. And what do you consider yourself? A saint?” As soon as she spoke the word, she cringed.

“You seem kind of antagonistic toward me,” Ryder said calmly.

Juliet bristled. She took a deep annoying breath as various yoga friends had advised her. “I suppose I do,” she answered honestly. “I apologize. I guess it’s the typical islander reaction to a wealthy new know-it-all setting foot on Nantucket and telling us what to do, and then doing it because you have so much money regardless of what we think.”

“Yeah,” Ryder said. “I get that.” He was quiet a moment, thinking. “Or,” he said, “it could be something else.”

With a smooth roll of his wrist, he steered the car into a rest stop. He shut off the ignition, unfastened his seatbelt, and twisted in his seat, facing her.

“What are you doing?” Juliet asked.

“This.” Ryder put his hand on Juliet’s chin, tilted her face to meet his, bent forward, and kissed her mouth.

It was sugar. It was satin. It was fire.

Juliet couldn’t pull away, didn’t want to pull away. She leaned into the kiss, closing her eyes, drinking in the pleasure with all her senses.

Ryder sat back, giving her space, his eyes on hers. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you on the ferry.”

   Juliet was trembling, and she’d never been quite so terrified in her life. “So this is the way you attract people to your causes.”

“Right,” Ryder agreed with a grin. “I found it especially effective on Prudence Starbuck.”

Juliet smiled at the thought of Ryder kissing the starchy old Puritan. “I don’t know you.”

“You haven’t googled me?”

Proudly, truthfully, she said, “No.” Had she ever wanted anyone this much? No. Not even Hugh Jeffers. Part of that attraction, she had to admit, had been that he was her boss. She’d believed he thought she was the smartest employee, the cream of the crop, a future team leader. Their relationship had been secretive and she’d liked that, too. It made her feel more special.

But love? She wasn’t sure she’d ever really been in love, and what she felt for Ryder was like the achingly powerful crushes she’d had on Justin Timberlake and Chris Hemsworth. Part infatuation mixed with the knowledge that it was hopeless.

Ryder told her, “I’m thirty-five. Divorced. Clementine has remarried and is happy. I live alone in my family’s house in Marblehead. Oh, Greta also lives with me.” He waited for her to ask who Greta was. When she didn’t, he continued “She’s our housekeeper. In her sixties, now, but my mother calls her ‘a wonder.’ I travel a lot, mostly up and down the East Coast, but really anywhere I can get a group to listen to me.” He paused. “I’m not seeing anyone else. I haven’t been interested in anyone for a long time. Not until I saw you.”

“So you want to take me to bed,” Juliet said bluntly.

Ryder’s gaze was intense. “Of course I want to take you to bed. But I’m in no rush. I want to get to know you.”

I’m way in over my head, Juliet thought. She kept her tone light, sassy. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

Ryder turned on the engine and checked his rearview mirror. The traffic was steady but not congested. He pulled back onto the highway. “Tell me about your family. Your parents.”

   “This feels like a therapy session.”

“All right, then, I’ll tell you about mine. They’re charming, cultured, well-traveled alcoholics. They both inherited money. They support each other’s drinking. They have friends who also drink. They live in Boston and Boca Raton and London. We are not estranged, but we’re not close.”