“You, too.” God, she must really not be what he’d expected. Had Drew painted him a picture of a sexy librarian, complete with pencil skirt and thigh-high stockings? Even on her best day, she couldn’t measure up to those kinds of expectations.
Maybe it was best she didn’t know what he’d told Ryan.
She swallowed hard, hating the way her throat had tightened. “I just need to grab my purse.” And try to convince herself that she could do this. A minute alone to shore up the barriers she’d built to protect herself would have to be enough. It’s just a favor to your friends, she reminded herself while ducking into her living room. When the night is over, I’ll never have to see him again.
Ryan cleared his throat behind her. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve gotten this off to the wrong start.”
Here it comes. “What do you have to be sorry for? It’s obvious you were expecting something else.” She wasn’t even close to being in this man’s league, and they both knew it.
“Not so fast—you’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He wasn’t, though, and all her childhood defense mechanisms rose to the surface, demanding she lash out before he could hurt her further. She faced him, forced herself to smile, and went for the one thing that might level the playing field. The only black mark on his stellar record. “Let’s get something straight, okay? This is just dinner. I have no intention of embarking on any kind of building-burning—or burning of any kind—with you.”
His mouth went tight. “I see the Wellingford gossip mill is still running in full force.”
She blinked. Okay, so it might have been a low blow, but all she’d meant was to poke at him a bit. The venom in his voice wasn’t on par with her comment. Did he hate this town or something? “Um…it’s not every day someone burns down the high school on graduation day.”
“It was ten years ago. They need to move on. Then again, nothing worth talking about ever happens here.” He stepped back. “Maybe this was a mistake. Why don’t I just take off and we’ll forget this ever happened?”
Was he implying a date with her wouldn’t be worth talking about, either? Bri may not be like whatever kind of woman he usually spent time around, but she wasn’t chopped liver. Whatever Avery’s and Drew’s reasons for setting them up—and she would be having a conversation with Avery about this—she’d agreed to this date as a favor, and she was damn well going to see it through. She huffed and lifted her chin. “No. I agreed to take you out on this date, and that’s what I’m going to do. It would be a shame for you to have to sit at home by yourself and do whatever it is lonely, attractive men like you do.”
…
The last thing Ryan Flannery planned on when he came back to visit his family was being browbeaten by his big brother into a blind date. All he’d been looking for was a break from the Air Force—and the intense training he’d gone through for the last five and a half months—for two weeks. Then he’d hit the ground running, and start gearing up for his next deployment. He should have known a trip back to Wellingford would be anything but restful, but the siren call of home had been too much to resist after so long away.
Looking at the woman standing across from him, her chin raised and blue eyes flashing behind those sexy secretary glasses, he had to admit that coming back might have been a mistake. A muscle ticked in his jaw. She thought he was lonely? “I’m more than capable of keeping myself entertained.”
Bri brushed past him, her gaze on the street. “Do you think so? I think your brother has the right idea of it—a man whose idea of a good time is burning things to the ground shouldn’t be left to his own devices. You’re a menace to society.”
She sounded so prim and proper, he wanted to muss up her straight dark hair and undo a few buttons on her shirt just to see what she’d do. That thought gave him all the ammunition he needed. “You wouldn’t know a good time if it bit you in the ass.”
“Excuse me?” Her back went so ramrod straight, it was like he could see the stick up her ass. Ryan’s gaze dropped to where her hips curved, and he frowned at the long skirt. The fall of the fabric indicated there was something there worth grabbing, but he couldn’t be sure. “What were your plans tonight—hanging out with your thirteen cats and knitting them mittens?”
She gasped. “I don’t have cats. They’re evil creatures. I have a perfectly nice fish named Mr. Smith.”
“How mundane. Let me guess. A goldfish?” He closed the door behind him and pressed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her down the stairs and toward his Suburban. It was difficult not to follow the perfect line of her spine with his palm, no matter how aggravating he found her.
“Don’t be insulting. He’s a betta fish.”
Because that makes a world of difference. Ryan snorted. “No wonder you haven’t had a date in the fourteen months my brother’s known you. I bet you talk to your fish, too, don’t you?”
She half turned to glare, the move dragging his hand over her back, though she didn’t seem to notice. “Fish need companionship, same as any other animal. He likes it when I read to him.”
“I’ll bet he does.” He opened the passenger door and waited for her to climb into the seat, which she did with a huff. By the time he made it around to the driver’s side, her body language had chilled the inside of the car more than the weather.
He started the Suburban and took a second to let the truth sink in. His brother had well and truly screwed him. Drew had gone on and on about the beautiful—but shy—new librarian who’d just moved to Pennsylvania all the way from California and didn’t know many people in town, and needed someone to show her a good time. Ryan had figured there were worse things to do on leave than take out a sweet, pretty girl.
Turned out Drew was only half-right.
She thought he was a charity case. Hell, she practically clobbered him with it, despite the fact that he was the one doing the favor here. Worse, she jumped at the first opportunity to shove his past down his throat—or an exaggerated version of it that didn’t take into account little things like the truth. And why should she be worried about the truth? No one else in this town was.
He pulled onto the street, wishing he hadn’t agreed to this favor. Instead of sitting in his SUV with a prickly little librarian, he’d be drinking beer with his brother and Avery while they played video games.
On second thought, maybe this was the better of the two options.
He glanced at Bri, taking in the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if she might break apart at any second. Or maybe she was just trying not to rip him a new one. He didn’t normally have women going for his throat within thirty seconds of meeting him, and this was a new experience he could have gone without. Ryan turned out of her neighborhood and replayed their meeting from beginning to end, trying to determine where it had all gone wrong.
It didn’t take long to figure out the answer.
When she’d opened the door, he’d been blown away, not expecting such an intoxicating blend of beautiful and what he could only describe as librarian. She’d been flushed and sporting an expression that was both terrified and excited, and all he could focus on was how he wanted to take off those sexy glasses and see if her lips tasted as kissable as they looked.
By the time he’d gotten hold of himself, all the excitement had melted away, leaving only a wary resignation. And then it was too late. Not a damn thing he could do or say would take back those seventeen seconds—she’d already mistaken his silence for disappointment. “You’re wrong.”