Bachelor at Her Bidding (Bachelor Auction Book 2)(26)

“I don’t believe you, Ryan Henderson! How can you be so selfish?” And she’d raged for a week, making the staff in the restaurant where they both worked cower in fear of getting on her bad side.

His phone beeped again with another message from Rachel. You OK? Rough day?

Not as rough as those last days in Bozeman. He typed back, Fair bit of teasing. Customers all wanted a side of “good manners”.

Think they might’ve been asking Carol for the same.

How did she know that? He gave in to the impulse to call her.

“Hey, Ry,” she said when she picked up the phone.

He loved the sweetness of her voice. “So how did you know that about Carol? Were they talking about it over at the medical center?”

“No. I ran an errand for my neighbor after work and picked up her prescription.”

She’d actually faced Carol again in the pharmacy? “Did she say anything to you? Carol, I mean?”

“No. She was fine. She looked as if she was sucking a lemon, though.”

“Just as long as she didn’t make one of her spiteful comments.”

“It’s fine,” she said softly. “And I’m a big girl, Ry. I can handle it.”

“Yeah. I’m hardly a knight in shining armor.”

“I don’t know. Take your pans and your knives to a blacksmith, and I reckon they could make them into a suit of armor and a sword.”

He loved her sense of humor. “I think I’ll stick to cooking.”

“Food that’s better than sex.” She gave a small, shocked gasp. “Whoops. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I’m glad you did, because now I know it’s not just me feeling this way.”

“It’s not just you. I’ve been thinking about it all day – you and me, I mean.”

“Good.” Honesty compelled him to add, “Me, too.”

“When do we get to see each other?”

Right now. No. Apart from the fact it wasn’t possible, it made him sound too desperate. Too needy. Too selfish. Lucille’s words echoed in his head, and he clenched his fists. No. This thing between him and Rachel was just between them. No promises, no secret agendas, and nobody was getting hurt. “Thursday?” he asked. Otherwise it would be next week, and he wasn’t sure he could wait that long.

“Thursday will be just fine. Come over as soon as you’ve finished work?”

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “See you then.”

He anticipated it all through Wednesday. What it would be like to kiss Rachel again. To touch her. Explore her. For her to touch him.

And, even though they’d agreed it was just a fling and they weren’t getting emotionally involved, he couldn’t resist the urge to buy her some flowers. Not from the florist on the next block to Grey’s, right in view of the pharmacy, because he knew that would be leaving Rachel vulnerable to speculation; instead, he drove out to the strip mall just before he picked his grandmother up on Wednesday evening and bought an armful of red tulips, some for Gram and some for Rachel.

His grandmother was delighted by the flowers when he brought them in. “They’re so pretty, Ry.” But the look on her face told him that she was worrying about something.

“What is it, Gram?” he asked gently.

“Is it my birthday?” Her voice was slightly quavery with anxiety – clearly she was aware that she’d become more and more forgetful and was worrying that she’d forgotten the occasion.

“No, Gram, and anyway it doesn’t need to be your birthday for me to buy you flowers. You’re my grandmother, and I love you,” he said with a smile. And at the same time he felt guilty because he knew he’d bought them as a kind of cover for buying flowers for Rachel. That really wasn’t fair of him. And he’d made his grandmother anxious. Ah, crap. Maybe he was as selfish as Lucille thought he was. He should’ve thought this through.

“Your grandfather used to buy me flowers every Friday night,” Phyllis said. “‘Just because,’ he always said.”

“I remember,” Ryan said softly, and made a mental note to buy his grandmother flowers more often.

On the Thursday, even though it was one of the busier days of the week he found the day dragging. To his relief, the gossip had moved away from whether he was or wasn’t dating the woman he’d kissed in the middle of the pharmacy.

But all the same he couldn’t wait for the moment that he saw Rachel again.

He’d left the flowers in the trunk of his car, hoping that the cool weather would stop them from wilting; thankfully, even though it was snowing again, the car had insulated the tulips enough that they hadn’t frozen, either.

Her eyes filmed with unshed tears when he gave her the flowers. “Ry, they’re lovely. Thank you. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I hoped you’d like them.” Then a nasty thought struck him. “I haven’t just given you the kind of flowers your ex used to buy you or anything, I hope.”

She shook her head. “I’m just being wet because it’s been a while since someone other than my sister or my girlfriends bought me flowers. I’ll put them in water and make us some coffee.”

“Let’s take a rain check on the coffee,” he said, following her into the kitchen, “because right now what I really want to do more than anything else is to kiss you.”