Let Me Be the One (The Sullivans #6)(9)

He grabbed all three of her heavy bags and she followed with her purse. She’d noticed the way he favored his non-pitching arm when they’d been leaving the motel earlier. Now, she caught his slight wince as he adjusted one of the bags over his right shoulder.

Knowing he was too much of a guy to let her take it from him, she said, “Hey, Ryan, there’s something I want to make sure I remembered to pack in that bag. Could you put it down for a sec?”

“I’m pretty sure there wasn’t anything left in your room,” he said as he set it on the garage’s cement floor.

“You know how disorganized I can be. It might take me half the night to root through everything I stuffed in here.”

“I’ll put these in the guest room and come back for that one.”

As soon as she couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, she started dragging the bag across the floor, only bothering to lift it up when she stepped inside the house and hit hardwood. She’d planned on bringing it all the way into the guest room, but as soon as she saw the view from his windows, her feet stopped moving.

Water had always been her weakness. It was why she’d chosen to go to Prague after leaving her ex-husband. The river had soothed her as she walked for hours along it, out of the city and then back again when her mind had been quiet enough to return.

As Ryan came down the stairs, she said, “Your view is incredible.”

“It’s better from over here.”

He reached out a hand for her and she forgot all about her bag as she moved toward him. As she put her hand into his, warmth sizzled all the way up her arm.

He pointed with his free hand. “Farallon Islands to the left. Alcatraz to the right. Heaven's straight up.”

She could feel his grin without needing to look at him. All those years she’d never forgotten the beauty of it.

“I’m so happy for you,” she told him, “that all of this is yours.”

Even better was that she could tell how much he appreciated it. Ryan wasn’t one of those guys who bought something as a status symbol. Regardless of what he’d said about his Realtor cousin pushing the place on him, if he hadn’t also loved it, they wouldn’t be standing here now.

“I’m glad you agreed to stay for a while, Vicki.”

She’d been so worried about being alone with him, but now that she saw how huge the house was, she realized they could probably go several days without seeing each other if they wanted to.

Not, of course, that she wanted to not see Ryan. But if he needed some alone time—say, if he had a woman over—she could easily disappear. If nothing else, she could always happily head down to the beach to get out of his hair.

“I am, too.”

He picked up her remaining bag. “Come on, I’ll show you your digs.”

Silly her. Even after the little pep talk she’d just given herself, her heart was still flipping around at the thought of being in a bedroom with Ryan. Silently reminding herself that she wasn't a teenager any more, she was starting to follow him through the house when her mouth fell open in shock.

“You’ve been collecting my sculptures?”

He had several of them placed throughout the main level of his house. Not just that, but they were some of her favorites.

“I’ve always been a fan, Vicki.”

His simple, heartfelt response warmed her inside and out. Still, she had to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted them? I would have given them to you.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t. Your work is worth a hell of a lot more than what I paid for each of these. I can’t tell you how many times over the years people have tried to buy them from me.”

“They have?”

“All the time. For a huge profit.” He looked around at her sculptures. “My answer has always been, and will always be, that they’re not for sale. To me, they’re priceless.”

Feeling utterly dazed by what he’d just told her, Vicki followed him through the living room just off the open kitchen and up the stairs. Halfway down the hall, Ryan opened one of the doors to a room that had another great view of the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge.

Vicki did her best to focus on the view, rather than on the big bed in the middle of the room.

“I’m just next door,” he said in an easy voice and she immediately looked at the wall he’d gestured to, her brain spinning off in entirely inappropriate visions. Ones where Ryan was stripping down for the night, pieces of clothing falling onto the floor one after the other—

“I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

Her lips and tongue felt really, really dry as she came back to reality. “I’m sure I will.”

Perfectly comfortable, and yet she already knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink with Ryan only a wall away.

She smiled over at him, but it froze on her face as she took in his expression. Just as it had been earlier tonight, the expression in his dark eyes was intense before it was replaced with his easy smile.

“How does the usual sound?”

It took her longer than it should have to realize that he was talking about dinner. So many nights when they were kids, he’d come over to her parents’ garage with takeout. She’d learned not to eat much at dinner with her family so that she could share those meals with him. He worked out half the day, so he usually ate about ninety percent of the food, but she loved that he always made sure to bring over her favorite things anyway.