Good Morning Heartache (6 page)

 Ryan had given up trying to
understand women a long time ago. Anyone who knew his mother understood that.
She was acerbic, mean, and demanding. Most of his childhood, this abuse had
fallen on his father, who took it silently. He hated his father for that.

Ryan had almost completely
dismissed women from his life. Once the hormones started coursing through his
veins, he realized that they fulfilled another need, but he didn't really want
to have anything to do with them personally.

Ryan wasn't sexist. He
didn't care what women did as long as they stayed out of his personal business.
Of course, he kept as little personal business as possible.

As for his father, last Ryan
knew he was still in that same old house in Middle-of-Nowhere, Iowa trying to
drink away the self-pity. He could do that alone.

Ryan walked back into the
bedroom and opened the closet door, where he’d hung his suits and dress shirts
the night before. He grabbed the first things that matched and began dressing.
He left the room buttoning his shirt.

When he got to the kitchen,
Ryan leaned over the table to review the blueprint while he tied the noose
around his neck. The plan was fairly simple. They were going to add a master
suite to the main floor on the west side of the house. Then they would expand
the tiny kitchen from the north side. While Caitlyn and Michael knew the basics
of the design and chose the colors and textures, they would likely be surprised
by the finished product. Pleasantly, he hoped.

His goal as an architect was
to be innovative. That alone did not set him apart from the rest. What did was
his knack for combining contrasting styles in a way that anyone with eyes would
label beautiful, and that only those with trained eyes would truly appreciate.
Ryan had been called brilliant on many occasions and had the portfolio and contract
record to prove it, but it wasn't good enough for him. He couldn't consider
himself successful until he reached the top. And he was denied that on Friday.

He took in a sharp breath
and released it quickly. At least his friends would appreciate his hard work.

Ryan lifted his head toward
the stairs that led to the front door when he heard the jingle of keys in the
door. It was probably Caitlyn's friend who was picking up the dog. Ryan didn't
mind taking care of Sam before the job started. It was a good way to pay them
back for letting him stay in their house, but he convinced them that it would
be better if Sam wasn't around while the bulldozers tore up his yard. He was
happy that they agreed. Secretly, Ryan knew that it would be best if he didn't
have that responsibility while he was working either, because he would
certainly forget about the poor animal. He couldn't even keep a plant alive for
a day during the work week or—admittedly—most weekends. He decided to leave out
that piece of information.

§

“Sam!” Alexis shouted up the
half flight of stairs as she closed the door behind her. She put her forefinger
and thumb in her mouth and whistled. “Come here, boy!”

As she walked up the stairs
she heard footsteps in the kitchen. It must be that nerd from Arizona, she
thought. What was his name? She was really bad with names of people, and seldom
made it through a story without having to be reminded who was who. All she
could remember was that Caitlyn and Michael called him “the lost roommate” because
he was constantly holed up in his and Michael's dorm room or in the library
studying.

Apparently, he was no fun at
all, which was the only thing that was keeping Alexis's inappropriate
brainstorming at bay. Michael had a way of attracting boring people. It was
surprising he wasn’t as mundane as the rest of them.

 When Caitlyn mentioned
there would be a construction crew working on their house while they were gone,
Alexis hoped she could get some action out of this unique situation, as Maple
Field was not known for its young bachelors. But when she heard it was the lost
roommate and his friends doing the job, she quickly let go of any sexual
notions. Those types of guys tended to fear girls like Alexis, and she didn't
mind. She'd rather be with a guy who liked to have some fun. Bad sex might be
worse than no sex.

Sam came trouncing up the
stairs from the basement to finally greet Alexis. She turned around, squatted,
and grabbed hold of one of his long, floppy ears, running the silky fur through
her fingers. One of the reasons she ended up really liking Michael was that he
didn't have the Doberman’s ears cropped. He thought Sam looked good the way he
was born, and so did she.

“You ready to come home with
me, buddy?” she asked the dog who was oblivious to anything other than the hand
stroking his head. Alexis wasn't thrilled to take the dog into her home. She
never really considered herself a “pet person” because she wasn't around the
house long enough to give a pet all the care and love it needed, but she could
do the job for two weeks, and with Riley around, she was more likely to be at
home. She looked into the big eyes of the dog in front of her and wondered, if
she did a good job—a really good job— could she get one of her own? But she
shook off the idea before it could get any real bearing.

“Let's go get your food and
bowls. Then we'll get out of here,” she said as she rose to standing.

A deep voice rumbled behind
her, “I swear I'm not stalking you. I'm supposed to be here.”

Alexis whipped around to see
the Untappable standing at the top of the half-flight of stairs that led to the
main part of the house with his hands held up in surrender. A rush of anxiety
swept over her as she tried to make sense of what was going on. This was her
greatest fear. That another guy would just invite himself into her life. Once
Frank was gone, she made damn sure there wasn't room for anyone else. This had
not gone over well with several of the guys that she had slept with. She was a
manizer and damn proud of it.

In the beginnings of her
promiscuity, she didn't have rules and had sex with any willing penis. She
quickly found out that this was a bad plan. Longest-lasting and most annoying
was Richard, and she took care of that with a little help from the sheriff’s
office.

After Richard and a couple
other creeps, she made it clear to everyone she slept with—no strings. She
didn't get the stalker vibe from this guy, but that wasn't always the best
gauge.

Then it hit her. Webb. Ryan
Webb. He was the nerd from Arizona. How did this slip past her? She really
wanted a “that-was-nice-but-I-hope-I-never-see-you-again” situation, and since
he was visiting from out of town, she thought…crap. He wasn’t going back to
wherever he came from; he was staying in her best friend’s house a few miles
away from her home for the next two weeks.

Alexis stared at him
tensely. His ice blue eyes seemed softer than they had over the weekend. Maybe
it was the asparagus green button up he was wearing that softened them, but she
got a sense that he was just more relaxed because he was more in his element.

He slowly descended the
stairs. Alexis could see the strength of his forearms below the rolled up cuffs
of his shirt. This small reminder of his masculinity kindled her imagination,
and she began to undress him with her mind.

In her head, she carefully
unbuttoned the shirt with a flick of her thumb and forefinger after untucking
it from his slacks. She slid it off his shoulders, grazing his neck and back.
She ran her fingers along the muscles of his chest, through the coarse hair,
and down the thin happy trail to his belt.

Before she could get his
pants off, he spoke. “I'm innocent. I swear. I am doing a job for Michael and
Caitlyn. Two weeks and I'm gone. I didn’t know you were the dog sitter.” He
stopped on the last stair before the landing and stood directly in front of
her.

“You're the lost roommate?
I’m sorely disappointed. I expected someone more studious. With glasses or something.
Just goes to show that nerds are lurking everywhere, and if a girl isn't
careful, she may take one to bed.” Alexis gave him a glance up and down and
made a chiding tick with her tongue. “You should have warned me.”

She looked up at him and
could see that he, too, was taking her in. He managed to give her a crooked
half-smile before saying, “You say that like you gave me the opportunity to say
anything beyond a primitive grunt. Besides, no personal information. No
strings, right?”

Ryan lifted a hand, and she
thought that he was going to touch her. The tingle of anticipation filled her,
but it was quickly squelched when he instead ran his fingers through his hair.

“Let's go get Sam's stuff.”

The warmth of his body, the
spicy musk was drawn away from her. It was for the best. He was making her
light-headed. Alexis took a moment before she lifted herself up the half-flight
of stairs and followed him into the kitchen.

When she entered, Ryan was
standing over the kitchen table looking at blueprints. His focus was completely
on his work, and it was like she had never come in. He acted like they hadn't recently
exchanged words or been so close to one another that static electricity drew the
ends of the little hairs on her arms to brush gently against his body.

The pantry next to the stove
held the dog chow, and when she opened the door, she saw two large, plastic containers
marked “Sam's Food” followed by the week in which she was supposed to give it
to him. There was also an envelope with Alexis's name on it. She opened it
quickly to find what she expected: detailed instructions on how to take care of
a dog. Sometimes she wondered if her best friend took her for an absolute
idiot. Sure, she didn’t have a dog of her own, but she could keep one alive and
happy for a couple of weeks. Alexis knew she wasn't a beacon of responsibility,
and it took Caitlyn a lot of guts—guts she wasn't renowned for—to give someone
else any responsibility that she considered her own.

Alexis scanned the
directions. Feed the dog. Walk him. Pick up his crap. Occasionally she would
glance up from the handful of papers and at the handsome architect who showed
no interest in her. One final instruction was at the bottom of the long,
over-detailed letter. “I want the addition to be done when we get back. Leave
the workers alone.” Too late for that.

In reading those words,
Alexis became very aware of her desire to have Ryan all over again. Usually she
was a “been-there-done-that” girl, but his current aloofness drove her mad, and
she wanted to push the blueprints aside and throw him down on the table. She
had waited the necessary amount of time for it to be reasonable.

Alexis bit her lip hard to
push down the urge. Caitlyn would kill her if she found out that Alexis had sex
on her kitchen table. She couldn’t just wipe it down with a disinfecting wipe
like a sane person; she would have to buy a new one. From Alexis's understanding
of Caitlyn, which was limited to what she was told, sex was full of romantic
notions of sunshine and monogamy, and Michael was willing to indulge her. Sex
on a table with a virtual stranger was not acceptable, especially if Caitlyn
wasn’t the receiving party, and under no circumstances was it acceptable if
there was any chance that Caitlyn would eventually have to eat off of that
table.

Alexis closed her eyes and
took a deep breath. When she opened them again, Ryan continued to ignore her.
As cold as he was to her right now, she doubted Caitlyn’s suggested kibosh was
all that far-fetched. Of course, he was more of a planner than a worker.

She turned back to the
pantry, frustrated with herself as much as with him. She grabbed the heavy bin
from the shelf, but the weight was more than she expected, and the bin hit the
floor with a smack. Alexis was startled by the loud noise and jumped back with
a squeal. It was far too girly for her taste, but she couldn't help it. Her
eyes were wide with shock, as she turned to see if the statue in the room had
been moved by her performance.

His eyes shot to her, and
she was hit with his annoyance, but within a few moments he was laughing.
Alexis looked around the room wondering where this was coming from, but she was
dissatisfied with the answer. How could he go from warm to cold to angry to
laughing?

Oh, God. He's insane. It was
the only rational explanation. Alexis shook it off and turned back to the
container and lifted it by the sides. The fall had caused the bin to crack on
the bottom, and as she lifted, dog food poured out of the crack and onto the
tile floor.

A roar of laughter rose
behind her, and she heard Ryan sit down in a squeaky, wheeled dining chair and
roll a short way across the floor.

“You have got to be kidding
me!” she demanded of the dog food. She glared at week two's bin. If there had
been no one around, she would have taken that bin into the backyard and beat
the crap out of it with one of Michael’s baseball bats, but the continuous
laughter in the background kept her from being rash.

Sam munched on some food,
and Alexis excused herself through the sliding door and onto the small deck off
the kitchen. She took in a deep, frustrated breath while the door behind her
slid open and closed again.

Ryan was still laughing
under his breath, and now that it was over and Alexis wasn't standing in a pile
of dog food, she was able to laugh a little, too.

“What the hell was Caitlyn
thinking?” she asked through a chortle.

“I have no idea. I always
remembered her as having more forethought than that.”

“That's the weird part. She
does have more forethought than that. I guess her need to organize and
micromanage took over.”

“I'll make you a deal.” He
looked down at her with his cold eyes. The seriousness washing over him was almost
palpable. “You clean up the mess you made, and I'll bring the other bin to your
car.”

He wanted her out of there.
If that was the price for having him bring the food down, she'd pay. “Deal.”
She dug her hand into the pocket of her black satin shorts and grabbed her
keys. “It’s the Volvo.”