About That Night (FBI/US Attorney #3)(63)

He stole another cracker. “Now, that would be something.”

She shook her head. “Why do I bother? You know, one day you’re going to wake up and…”

Kyle’s cell phone buzzed, and he tuned out the rest of Jordan’s lecture—he could probably repeat the whole thing word for word by now—as he checked the incoming message. It was from Rylann, her response as short and sweet as his original text.

3418 CORNELIA, #3.

He had her address.

With a smile, he looked up and interrupted his sister. “That’s great, Jordo. Hey, by any chance do you have any bottles of that India Ink cabernet lying around?”

She stopped midrant and stared at him. “I’m sure I do. Why, what made you think of that?” Then her face broke into a wide grin. “Wait a second…that was the wine Rylann talked about when she was here. She said it was one of her favorites.”

“Did she? Funny coincidence.”

Jordan put her hand over her heart. “Oh my God, you’re trying to impress her. That is so cute.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kyle scoffed. “I just thought, since I’ve heard such good things about the wine, that I would give it a shot.”

Jordan gave him a look, cutting through all the bullshit. “Kyle. She’s going to love it.”

Okay, whatever. Maybe he was trying to impress Rylann a little. “You don’t think it’s too much? Like I’m trying too hard?”

Jordan put her hand over her heart again. “Oh. It’s like watching Bambi take his first steps.”

“Jordo…” he growled warningly.

With a smile, she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed affectionately. “It’s perfect. Trust me.”

Twenty-five

RYLANN’S EYES DID a quick sweep over her apartment as she walked to the front door. Definitely not a penthouse, but it was cute and cozy and, thankfully, clean. Not that Kyle was staying long, she reminded herself. Friday night had been a one-time thing—with the drinks and the romantic lighting in the club and the way he’d been looking at her when he’d said that line about the most beautiful girl in the bar, she’d just sort of let herself be swept up in the moment. But now it was time to face reality.

With that in mind, she threw open the front door. Kyle stood there—more dressed up than she’d expected and looking strikingly attractive in his tailored gray pants and crisp blue shirt.

With an appreciative gleam in his eyes, he took in her cream peasant top and jeans. “So you do own pants.”

Rylann opened her mouth, ready to give him the speech about not complicating things, no matter how great the sexcapades had been—when he held up his hand, cutting her off at the pass.

“Before you get rolling with the lecture, or start heading for the hills again, you should know that this is a no-strings-attached visit. I have something for you.” He held up a silver wine gift bag that flashed with so many sparkles and sequins it nearly blinded her.

Rylann pulled back in surprise. “Oh. Wow.” She hadn’t been expecting him to come bearing gifts. Especially one so bedazzled.

He shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. “The bag didn’t look quite as shiny in the store.”

Whatever this was, he looked adorably nervous about it. Rylann held out her hand. “Let me see.” Intrigued, she took the bag from him, pulled out the wine bottle, and read the label.

India Ink.

“It’s one of my favorites. You remembered that,” she said, staring at the label. “Thank you.”

He made a big show of trying to look nonchalant. “It’s no big deal. Jordan had a couple bottles sitting out, so I grabbed one.”

Rylann leaned against the doorway. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Kyle, because I really love the wine. But what’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, I just thought we could…hang out and talk.”

He looked as shocked by the suggestion as she was.

“Talk?” Rylann stared at him. “Are you feeling okay? You’re being very…not you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked indignantly. “That I can’t hang out with a girl without sex being on the table?”

Good question. “I don’t know. Have you ever hung out with a girl without sex being on the table?”

He immediately scoffed at that. “Of course.”

“Not including high school.”

His busted look said it all.

Rylann smiled. “You might want to plead the Fifth to avoid self-incrimination.”

Kyle looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “I swear—no more law geeks. Ever. From now on, I’m sticking with simple, easygoing girls whose goals in life do not seemingly include driving me insane.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Look, here’s the deal: today was a good day for me. And strangely enough, you, Rylann Pierce, are the first person I wanted to tell about it.” He held out his hands in exasperation. “Do with that what you will.”

Later, Rylann could tell herself that she’d simply been sucked in by the wine-bottle gesture and how cute Kyle was when he got worked up and pissed off at her like this. But if she was being honest with herself, she’d have to admit that the fact that he’d wanted to tell her about his day had kind of melted her rational, pragmatic, noncrazy heart a teeny, tiny little bit.