Now she needed to figure out what to do with the result of her simple addition.
“You are so very sweet. And now I have an appointment I must race to,” she said, and pointed down the hallway.
Once out of earshot and eyeshot, she breathed a huge sigh of relief and headed to the Grand Canal Shops to meet Holden for a cup of coffee and some much-needed retail therapy. A beat of happiness played in her heart as she neared the cafe—she’d always enjoyed Holden’s company, and she needed her best friend even more today. Over lattes and quality time with Kenneth Cole, Coach, and Christian Louboutin, she caught him up to speed on her latest news, showing him Ryan’s photo from his corporate website.
“I hope it’s not over,” she admitted.
“So on a scale of one to ten, how much do you like him?” he asked as she tried on a peep-toe silver stiletto with a strap over the heel.
“One hundred,” she said, peering at the red-soled shoe in the mirror of the boutique. “But I don’t know where we stand.”
He met her reflection in the glass. “Those look amazing. And honestly, it sounds more like you’re in a holding pattern.”
“I detest holding patterns. I hate uncertainty. Not to mention, the whole thing just makes me feel stupid.”
“So tell him as much. Tell him what you need. That he needs to be open with you,” he said, as she slipped off the shoes and gestured to the counter so she could pay for them.
“And I feel stupid, too, because Clyde is breathing down my neck. It’s like everyone is using me. I’m sorry if that sounds dramatic, but Clyde clearly has his sights set on me because he thinks I’ll never try to touch his money. And then I have to wonder if Ryan had his own agenda.”
“Did it seem like that?”
As the saleswoman rang her up, Sophie let the reel of her time with Ryan play before her eyes. Date by date. Night by night. Email by email. Moment after moment of intoxicating, inescapable pleasure. Ryan had always seemed focused on her. Only her. Her pleasure, never anything else.
She floated back to the diner and his heady words.
If you were mine, I’d never let you want for anything. I’d take care of you, and all your needs. All the time. Anytime. Whatever you needed, I’d give you.
A current of longing swirled inside her. Of missing. Of wanting.
“No,” she admitted, taking the bag from the employee. “I was his only agenda.”
“Then,” he said, as he patted her shoulder, “it seems you might want to let him know you’re falling for him. Especially since I think he’s here right now.”
“What?”
He gestured to the entryway of the Louboutin store. “I’m assuming the insanely handsome man in the University of Michigan T-shirt, holding a shopping bag and looking just like the guy in the photo you just showed me, is here to see you?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
She was too stunned to say much more, but the softness in his voice, and the vulnerable look in his beautiful, dark blue eyes, settled her nerves.
Ryan turned to Holden standing next to her. “You must be Holden. I’ve heard a lot about you. Pleasure to meet you,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Ryan.”
Holden took it. “Likewise. Nice to meet you, too.”
“Sophie tells me you’re a talented piano player, and that I’ll get to hear you next week at the benefit,” he continued, and Sophie’s jaw nearly crashed to the floor. She’d never expected possessive, jealous, dominant Ryan to talk so easily to her ex. Sexuality aside, most men wouldn’t do so well talking to a prior lover, let alone a woman’s former husband.
“Thank you. I hope you enjoy the Beethoven.”
“I have no doubt I will. That is,” he said, returning his focus to her, “if Sophie will still have me.”
Holden smiled broadly and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “I believe that’s my cue to go,” he said, then exited the store, threading through the Saturday afternoon shoppers at the Grand Canal Shops.
She was left in the middle of the Louboutin store with the man she’d kicked out of her house last night. “How did you find me here?”
“Don’t forget, I was Army Intelligence,” he said with a grin.
“And they taught you how to locate women who are shopping?”
He shook his head. “No. But you told me you were going to be here today, and since you’re a classy woman, I picked the classiest shoe store as your possible location. That is, after I tried a few other shops.” She loved that she was the object of his treasure hunt. “So,” he began, rocking lightly back and forth on his feet. “I’m not terribly good at this whole talk-about-feelings-and-stuff thing, as you’ve probably gathered by now. So I’m just going to be blunt and lay it out.”
He took a beat, drawing a breath. Her heart raced as she waited for his next words. “I want to try with you. And I want to take you to the benefit, and introduce you to my brothers and sister, and I’m pretty sure Johnny Cash is eager to meet you.”
Her heart tripped over itself. “I want all that, too.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she melted, just melted from the simple touch. “I need you to know, I was never using you. I won’t lie and tell you it didn’t cross my mind that you were the detective’s sister, and I won’t insult your intelligence by saying I didn’t wonder if you knew anything about the case. I did wonder,” he said, and she nodded, listening intently to his serious tone. “But that literally lasted for a minute, maybe two. And it ended as soon as I set eyes on you at Aria. Because once I saw you again, none of the other things mattered. I wanted you with an intensity I haven’t felt before. And the more time I spent with you, the greater that desire became.” His fingertips traced soft lines on her waist. “I know we haven’t even seen each other that much in the grand scheme of things, but I already feel something for you, Sophie. Something deep and powerful,” he said, and those words weaved through her, humming in her body, buoying her heart and her spirit.
“I feel the same,” she whispered. “I barely understand how it’s possible that I met you a little over a week ago.”
“I know.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “It makes no sense to me, either. It was pure, one hundred percent lust at first sight, and then it somehow became more. I can’t risk losing you by being so damn stubborn.” He pulled back to look her in the eyes again. His dark blue gaze made her stomach pirouette, and the way he brushed his fingertips along her arm had her skin sizzling. Chemistry—they had a surplus of it, so much they could sell it on street corners, or bottle it and make a mint. Only, she didn’t want to sell it. She wanted to hoard it, because this kind of reaction—like and lust, passion and possibility—didn’t come around often. She needed to grab it, explore it, and see where its magic took them.
“You didn’t lose me. I promise.”
“I know I messed up by not telling you more about my family, and I can’t promise I won’t mess up again. And I don’t really know that I’m able or ready to just sit down and tell you every single sordid detail of my life—”
She pressed her hand to his chest, thrilling at the feel of his firm body beneath the light cotton of the T-shirt. “You don’t need to tell me everything. You don’t have to deliver your biography on a silver platter, Ryan. I already want to see you more. I just want to know more about you. Bit by bit, day by day, as you’re ready to share.”
He nodded and clasped his hand over hers. “I meant what I said at the diner. I don’t ever get beyond three dates because I don’t like to share. So you need to know you’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted to get closer to. You do something to me that drives me wild and makes it impossible for me to think about anything but you.”
She couldn’t contain her grin if she tried. “You’re pretty much ever-present in my mind, too.”