Nobody's Lost (Rescue Me Saga #5)(24)
He thrashed on the sofa, bare except for his black boxers. Sweat glistened on his skin from the streetlight shining between the open blinds. Past experience with Patrick had taught her not to approach or touch him.
“Ryder. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”
The muscles in his arms and chest strained as the battle raged on in his mind. His head turned toward her, and his brow furrowed as if in pain. Had he been injured?
She approached, but as instructed, she didn’t touch him. “Ryder! I said wake up. Now!”
He jolted awake and bolted up, grabbing for the knife on the coffee table and starting toward her.
Her heart beat wildly. “No! It’s me. Megan Gallagher. You were having a nightmare.”
He halted and stared at her. Setting the knife back down, he ran the same hand through his hair. “Sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I’m just glad I was here to put an end to this one. No one should go through those alone.”
He stared at her as if he wanted to disagree, but relaxed his body instead. “Go get some sleep. I’m okay now.”
“It might help to talk about it.”
“Hell, no.” He met her gaze. “No offense, but it’s over. I’ll just take a look around to make sure everything’s secure.”
He started toward her again, but she didn’t move to let him pass. “Is it over, Ryder? How often do you have the nightmares?”
He gave her another defiant stare. “Not as often as I used to.”
Clearly, he wasn’t ready to talk about them. “Offer still stands. And it’s three-fifteen, by the way. I told you, anytime you need to talk.”
Was the plea in his eyes Ryder wanting to open up to her. Or did he just wish she would get lost? Whichever, it disappeared in a flash.
“I appreciate the offer. But no worries. It’s over.”
She wondered how many times he would have to say that before he started to believe those words.
“You just keep telling yourself that, Ryder. I hope your words come true someday.”
She returned to her bedroom, closing the door and putting her handgun away.
With no chance of sleeping again anytime soon, she spent the next two hours reading her photography book before deciding it was time to go to her office and edit some more photos.
When she opened the door, her senses were assaulted by the smell of bacon and coffee. She sure could get used to having a man around who liked to cook, although she was going to gain a ton if they kept eating like this. Maybe they could make a trip to the farmer’s market rather than live off the unhealthy choices in Patrick’s freezer and pantry.
Actually, after giving it a lot of thought since Ryder’s nightmare, the time had come for her to regain control of her life.
Ryder needed to go home.
*
Megan witnessing his nightmare reminded him what bad news he would be for someone like her. Her world was light and fun and normal. His was…well, a freaking nightmare at times.
He poured another mug of black coffee. The first two hadn’t done anything to clear the cobwebs from his head after the dream. Tired. He hadn’t run on so little sleep in a long time. Out of practice. The dryer buzzed, and he took one more quick swallow before heading to the laundry room to retrieve the sheet he’d washed after soiling it last night fantasizing about Megan.
Hell, what was he thinking being with a girl like Megan? She deserved someone—
“The coffee smells great. How are you doing this morning?”
Before he could make it through the kitchen with the sheet, he came face to face with her again. Jesus, so beautiful. She wore shorts and a tee, and her legs, though not particularly long, were spectacularly perfect. Muscular calves and thighs that could probably squeeze a man in all the right places.
“You run?”
She looked back at him after setting the coffee pot back on the warmer. “From what?” Before he could clarify, she grinned. “Just teasing. No, not a lot. Sometimes it just helps me feel better.”
“You aren’t going to go running this morning, are you?” He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the potential threats she would encounter. At least she didn’t sound like a habitual runner who had to stick to a schedule. Less predictable for predators.
“No. I’m dragging today. Dressed for comfort.”
She sure seemed perky despite him disturbing her sleep last night.
“Let me go fold this sheet, and then I’ll scramble up some eggs.”
She set her mug on the counter. “No, let me help. I used to do this with my dad.” She took the sheet from him and found two ends. “Now, you find the other two.” He did so and held it up, but when he realized it was twisted, he switched corners at the same time she did, resulting in yet another twist.
“Dad sure made this look easy.”
They worked at straightening out the sheet for a moment. She referred to him in the past a lot. Did he ditch his family, too? “Where is he now?”
Her sweet smile faded. “He died more than two years ago.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry. Awfully young for you to lose your dad.”
“Well, I still have so many wonderful memories, and I’ll admit I talk to him every day and almost feel he answers sometimes. Luckily, my mom’s going to live to be a hundred and ten. Nothing can keep that woman down long.”