Hot Finish (11 page)

“You look like one, too,” Ryder told him, adjusting his own tie in the mirror next to the other guys. “And I think technically these are tuxedos.”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a suit or a tux or a leotard, I feel ridiculous wearing it.”

Ryder wasn’t feeling the look either. “I hear you. I feel like I’m in an emo band with these skinny pants and skinny ties.”

Ty put on his jacket, then took it back off. “These are just weird. I feel very uncomfortable with all of us standing around in this room together trying on androgynous formal wear.”

“It was the style back in the sixties,” Elec said. Then he added in a low voice with a nod at one of the closed dressing room doors, “And just be grateful none of us are wearing paisley like Strickland.”

Ryder would raise a glass to that. Nothing about paisley on his body appealed to him. But if there was ever a day to cram him into something stupid, today was it, because he was feeling the afterglow, no doubt about it. Suzanne had been smoking hot last night, and while his eyes felt like he needed toothpicks to prop them open from lack of sleep, he was high on endorphins.

They’d left it, well, okay, too, which was good. Nobody had stormed off. Objects hadn’t been thrown.

That was the definition of progress.

They hadn’t talked about anything of importance or how they would handle seeing each other again, but that didn’t matter. One thing at a time.

“We’re supposed to be fishing today out at the lake, not stuck in this store trying on these dumb suits.” Ty unbuttoned the neck on his shirt. “Feel like I’m choking.”

“Yeah, well, as soon as everyone had a woman with them, guys’ weekend went out the window,” Evan said. “And with Jonas having to bring Nikki back for her appointment, Suzanne figured we should get this taken care of, so here we are. You all are lucky I got lucky last night or I’d be really pissed.”

“You didn’t want to be out at the lake anyway,” Ryder told him. “So what are you complaining about?”

“Oh, I can always find something to complain about,” Evan said.

Ryder let out a crack of laughter. “True that.”

“Guys, I don’t know about this . . .” Jonas came out of his dressing room trussed up in black satin paisley.

Not a good look for a big guy. He looked like a marshmallow crammed into a wet suit.

“Uh . . .” was Evan’s response.

“Holy shit,” was Ty’s.

“It looks better than I thought,” was Elec’s opinion.

Ryder was thinking they needed Nikki and Suzanne’s green light before they went ahead and paid for this mess. “You know, Strickland, let’s take a pic with your phone and send it to Nikki so she can see it. Maybe she’ll want you to go with the regular suit instead of the paisley.”

“You think so?” Jonas wiped his forehead. “I think only certain guys can pull this off and I’m not one of them.”

Truer words were never spoken. Ryder held out his hand. “Give me your phone. Let’s consult the women.”

SUZANNE
took another sip of her lukewarm coffee and tried to keep her eyes open. She had been at three bridal salons with Nikki over eight hours and was ready to crawl under the velvet bench she was slumped on and fall asleep. It was a cruel irony that after not eating for two days and getting loaded on vodka, Nikki had absolutely no sign of a hangover today, trying on dress after dress with boundless energy. Suzanne hadn’t had a drop of liquor and she wanted to collapse into bed and sleep for the next twelve days.

“I’m getting old,” she told Tammy, who was sitting on the bench next to her, a crumpled-up rejected bridesmaid dress in her lap. “I need more sleep than I used to.”

“Eww,” was Nikki’s opinion as a new gown option was held up in front of her by the increasingly hostile saleslady. Not a single dress was pleasing Nikki, and Nikki wasn’t pleasing the salon staff with her obnoxious attitude.

The other bridesmaids had left when Nikki hadn’t been able to focus on finding dresses for them, preoccupied with her own gown. Tammy had been out shopping and had popped in to say hi to Suzanne after they’d texted and realized they were in the same shopping complex.

“Are you staying up too late? I can’t do that anymore either.”

Time to fess up. “Yeah, I stayed up late last night. Having sex with Ryder.”

“
What?
” Tammy sat up straight on the bench next to her and turned to face her. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

“Yep. I did the nasty with my ex-husband. Only he’s not really my ex-husband, he’s still technically my husband, which should make it okay, but makes it even weirder.” Suzanne shoved her shaggy bangs off her forehead, knowing she’d probably just made them stick straight up but not caring. “But I can’t say I regret it.”

“Oh. Okay, then. I take it it was . . . good?” Tammy studied her carefully.

“Of course it was good. Ryder’s a sure thing, if you know what I mean.”

“No. I really don’t.”

Sometimes Tammy’s naivete scared the shit out of Suzanne. She’d had more street smarts at six than Tammy had now, but that was part of her friend’s charm. “A sure thing. I know he can always get me off, no questions asked. Multiple orgasms.”

Tammy blinked, her cheeks a little pink. “Oh, well, that is good then. But how do you feel about it now? Are you seeing each other?”

Could hope and sheer terror coexist? Because Suzanne was sure she was suddenly feeling both. She tamped the feelings down. “No, absolutely not. It was just a fun one-night stand. I think we both needed a little closure.”

Uh-oh. Tammy’s head had tilted. Suzanne smelled a lecture coming on.

“Closure by sex has really never worked, that I’m aware of. Most of the time it just reopens old wounds and feelings.”

“Well, it didn’t.” So there.

“Suzanne!”

Nikki’s high-pitched voice nearly made her spill the remnants of her coffee on her lap. “Yes?”

“None of these dresses work! None of them look like Priscilla’s!” Nikki was standing on the dress platform in an empire waist chiffon dress. She looked like a flower girl on steroids. “The sleeves are all wrong!”

“Remember what I said, we just need the basic outline to be right, then we’ll do alterations. We don’t have time to start a dress from scratch. Your wedding is four weeks away, so there’s no way we can find a seamstress to do it in that time frame.”

“I don’t see why not.” Out came the pout.

Trying not to sigh, Suzanne stood up and set her coffee down on the bench. She inspected the dress Nikki was wearing. “This will definitely work.” It wouldn’t look good, but it would work. “We just need the sleeves and some lace added to the bodice. Maybe an underskirt to fill it out a little.”

Nikki’s cell phone was suddenly blasting “Rock You Like a Hurricane” from her purse in the corner.

“Can you get that? It’s Jonas.”

“Sure.” Suzanne dug out the phone and handed it to Nikki.

Nikki punched buttons and then let out a wail so loud the saleslady started and fell back onto her bottom from where she’d been pinning the hem on the dress.

“Jesus, what’s the matter?” Chances were, it wasn’t important, but given Nikki’s trembling lip and watery eyes, this was a crisis Suzanne wanted to avert before it got worse.

“Look at Jonas in Elvis’s tux!”

Nikki held her phone out and Suzanne eyed the picture of Nikki’s fiancé looking a little . . . stuffed into a very shiny tux. “Hmm.”

“It looks awful on him! He doesn’t look like the King, he looks like a human Ding Dong!”

For perhaps the first time ever, Nikki had said something that Suzanne could find a measure of truth in. Trying not to giggle, she bit her lip hard. “Maybe it’s just the angle.”

“It’s not the angle! It looks terrible. And I don’t like this dress, and I was thinking if I have to dye my hair black it will take
years
to get it back to the perfect shade of blond again.”

Alarmed at the hysterical tenor in Nikki’s voice, Suzanne took her hand and squeezed. “It’s okay, hon. We’ll work it all out so you’re happy. Maybe dying your hair and having Jonas in paisley is too over the top. Let’s scale back and just go for a retro look, how does that sound? Just a pretty, simple dress, and a nice black suit.”

“I don’t want simple.” Nikki yanked her hand away. She balled up her fists and screwed up her eyes and let out another fantastic shriek, that was punctuated by her hurling her cell phone across the room, where it hit one of the many mirrors dominating the room. The glass shattered and the cell phone dropped with a thwack to the carpet amid a rainstorm of mirror shards.

Holy . . . Suzanne stared at the mess in shock. “Nikki!”

“That’s it,” the saleslady said, her face a deep russet color. “Get the hell out of my shop. After you pay for that mirror.”

“I’m really sorry,” Suzanne said, already reaching for her credit card and mentally deducting broken glass from her check from Jonas. “Of course we’ll pay for it.”

The saleslady was unzipping the back of the dress Nikki was wearing. “What the hell are you doing?” Nikki asked. “I’m wearing this!”

“Not anymore.”

“What if I want to buy this?” Nikki asked, her hands reaching back to shoo at the saleslady.

“It’s no longer available.”

The dress dropped to a puddle on the floor, leaving Nikki in her bra and panties. “Hey! I’m naked, you fat cow.”

Oh, my God. Suzanne frantically turned, trying to remember which room Nikki had left her jeans and sweater in. Tammy was pointing. “That one.”

“You have sixty seconds to get out of here before I call security,” was the saleslady’s response.

Tammy was already gathering up their coats and purses as Suzanne emerged with Nikki’s clothes. She gave them to her with a stern look she hoped would get the girl to hurry. “What about the mirror?” Suzanne asked the saleslady. “I can pay for it.”

“Just get out,” the plump middle-aged woman said, her lips pinched and fists clenched.

In another minute, they were outside on the sidewalk, Nikki blustering and threatening to sue, Tammy’s expression appalled. Suzanne pulled on her peacoat and tried not to feel sorry for herself.

“Thanks for stopping by,” she told her friend.

Tammy’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you okay?”

She waved her hand, feeling oddly prosaic. “Sure. Fine. Whatever. Just a day in the life of me.” If she stressed every time Nikki threw a tantrum, she’d be begging for a heart attack.

“Alright. Call me later. And I’ll see you Thursday.”

“What’s Thursday?” Suzanne was drawing a blank.

“Thanksgiving! You’d better be at my house or I will hunt you down and drag you over.”

Thanksgiving. Right. Another holiday to remind her everyone else on the planet had a family and she was the lone woman out.

“I’ll be there. With a pie.”

“Awesome. Everyone loves your pie.”

Ryder had been loving her pie the night before. Suzanne felt her cheeks and her hoohah start to burn.

It suddenly occurred to her she hadn’t heard from Ryder since they’d parted ways that morning.

And that suddenly sucked.

CHAPTER
TEN

RYDER
refused to be nervous about seeing Suzanne as he rang the doorbell to the Monroe’s house on Thanksgiving. So they hadn’t talked since he’d gotten out of her car after they’d made love all night. It didn’t mean anything. Everything would be normal, fine, good.

Which didn’t explain why he kept flattening the top of his hair and wishing he’d given his pits one more swipe with the deodorant. He was sweating.

It just now hit him that Suzanne might not even be at the Monroe’s. He had assumed she would be, which was mostly why he’d said yes to the invitation. His own parents were in Hawaii for the holiday, and he was an only child, so it was either go to his cousin’s house, go to the Monroe’s, or fly solo. Seeing his godson Pete and Suzanne were what had tipped the scales to come here.

If Suzanne weren’t there, he’d have to be content with the company of good friends and Tammy’s kids, which was a hell of a lot to be thankful for, he had to say.

Pete opened the door. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Happy Thanksgiving, jerk,” Ryder told him with a grin and a hand out to ruffle his godson’s hair. Pete had shot up over the summer and Ryder felt himself on the verge of giving one of those stupid comments about growing that he’d always hated from adults when he was a kid, when he restrained himself.

He didn’t get to see Pete as much now that Tammy and Elec were married. In some ways, Elec had replaced Ryder in Pete’s life as a surrogate father. After Tammy’s husband and Ryder’s buddy Pete had died, Ryder had stepped into Pete Junior’s life as the token guy. He’d enjoyed that, and felt a pang as he followed Pete into the house that he was no longer needed in quite the same way.

It made him wish all over again for a child of his own.

“I’m getting a tarantula for Christmas,” Pete told him as he skidded down the front hallway in his socks, his khaki pants and button-up shirt already looking more than a little wrinkled.

“Oh, really? And your mom agreed to that?” That seemed a little too eight-legged and hairy for Tammy’s taste.

“Elec said he’ll talk her into it.”

Ryder felt a smirk coming on and he cleared his throat. “I guess we’ll see how persuasive your step-dad is, huh?”

They rounded the corner into the family room, which was bursting with people and the smell of cinnamon. He scanned the room, smiling and greeting everyone, wondering where in the hell Suzanne was, when she came in through the other doorway via the kitchen, a platter of cheese and crackers in her hands. She was wearing a black skirt with some kind of white pattern on it, a short-sleeve red turtleneck sweater, and boots that came to her knees and made him want to throw them up over his head.

Damn, she was gorgeous. He just couldn’t say it enough.

Ryder knew he was staring at her, but he wanted her to look at him, to acknowledge his presence, to meet his gaze and have the secret running between them that he had spent half of the other night inside her.

He was well aware she had said more than once that one night was just one night and that there wouldn’t be any more, and he respected that. He did. But that didn’t mean he wanted her to pretend nothing had happened between them.

Tammy’s parents, in visiting from Seattle, Elec’s parents, his brother Evan, and his sister Eve, had all greeted Ryder. Tammy’s daughter Hunter, a few years younger than Pete, was already climbing onto the tops of his feet with her patent leather shoes, her hot little hands gripped in his.

But Suzanne was ignoring him.

So he tamped down his disappointment and focused on the little girl in front of him, who was wearing a dress, shocking the hell out of Ryder. Hunter was the quintessential tomboy, with a burning love of stock car racing. “You’re mighty fancy today, squirt. You look beautiful.”

But Hunter made a face at his compliment. “Mom made me wear it.” She turned a little to the side. “But she let me add this.” There was an Elec Monroe button on the puffy sleeve of her velvet dress.

“Cool. That really makes the outfit.” It had probably made Tammy wince, too, but Ryder had to admire a compromise.

Hunter gave one final tug on his hands then darted off, flapping her arms in some interpretive dance move Ryder didn’t understand. Amused by her, he took a seat in an armchair next to Eve, who in addition to being their sibling, was Elec and Evan’s PR rep. “Hey Eve, what’s up?”

“Not much, how are you doing? Congrats on finishing second.”

“Don’t remind me,” he told her with a smile. “Thanks, but second is like being one number off from the winning lottery number.”

“Guess you’ll have to be number one next season.” Eve did a hair-flip thing, her head tilted, smile coy.

She was flirting with him. It had happened before and Ryder had flirted back, considering it harmless. He seriously doubted Eve actually wanted to date him, any more than he wanted to date her. She was attractive, a real shark in PR, and high energy, but he would have never considered getting involved with someone so closely tied to his team members, even if he hadn’t just crossed the border into Suzanne Land.

But part of him wanted to flirt right now, to poke Suzanne. It was childish, petty, stupid, and potentially dangerous, but he couldn’t help it. Suzanne hadn’t even bothered to say hello to him and how childish was that?

“I guess I will,” he said. “But shouldn’t you be rooting for your brothers instead?”

She shrugged and waved her hand. “They’ll be fine. As long as they finish above fifteen, we’re not at risk for losing sponsorship. And Evan can’t do much worse than last year; he needs a miracle more than my cheer-leading.”

Evan was close enough to hear their conversation and he rolled his eyes as he leaned forward to grab some cheese off the platter Suzanne had set on the coffee table. “Heartwarming as always, Eve. And don’t forget who funds your paycheck.”

“Elec, that’s who. The rookie made more than you did, little brother.” Eve smirked.

So much for flirtation. She had totally forgotten about Ryder. Instead Evan was insulting Eve’s intelligence and they were facing off for a sibling smack down.

“I swear I didn’t raise them to be this competitive,” their mother said, shaking her head from the couch. She turned to Suzanne. “Do you fight with your brothers and sisters like this? It’s embarrassing.”

“I don’t have any brothers and sisters.” For the first time since he’d entered the room Suzanne looked directly at Ryder. “Neither does Ryder.”

That had been something they had both understood about each other, what it was like to grow up solo. But even that had been disparate. Suzanne had grown up dirt poor with her grandparents after her mother ran off when Suzanne was a toddler. Ryder had grown up middle class with parents who were pretty sure he could do no wrong. Occasionally, it might have been nice to have someone offering him a little discipline and guidance, but it hadn’t harmed him beyond repair.

He didn’t think. Maybe Suzanne had a different opinion on that.

“Well, you’re both lucky,” Evan said, with what Ryder had to assume was exaggerated envy.

“Actually, it was lonely.” Suzanne shrugged. “I would have given anything to have a brother or sister to hang out with.”

Ryder studied Suz’s face. She looked upset but was covering it up. He wasn’t sure what it meant, other than that her childhood had been hard and lonely, just like she’d said. He had always pictured her as a scrappy little blonde facing down cruel peers who were making fun of her clothes, or her lack of parents, or her tiny house, with defiance and wit.

Had he ever really acknowledged that to her? Probably not.

“You can have both of mine,” Eve told her hopefully.

Thoughtful, Ryder lost the thread of the comments sallying back and forth and sank back into his chair. He wondered just how many times he had failed to ask Suzanne about her emotions, just waiting for her to speak them.

If he knew anything, he knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who just offered up her feelings on a regular basis. He should have asked more. Like now.

When Tammy came to the doorway and yelled, “Dinner’s ready! Into the dining room,” Ryder made sure he aligned himself next to Suzanne for the migration.

“Hey,” he told her. “You look nice.”

Her eyebrows shot up but she said, “Thanks.”

“How are you? How are things going with Nikki?”

“Well, she changed her mind about the Elvis and Priscilla theme after seeing Jonas in that suit and she got us kicked out of a bridal shop by breaking the mirror. Other than that, we’re good.”

“Wow, that’s intense, I’m sorry. Though I have to agree with her on Strickland. It wasn’t a good look for him. But I’m really sorry she’s putting you through so much extra work.”

Hunter appeared out of nowhere and tugged his hand. “Sit by me!”

With an apologetic smile, Ryder leaned in and murmured to Suzanne, “Sit by me.”

The urge to kiss her was strong, but since they weren’t alone, he resisted, settling for briefly touching the small of her back before letting Hunter drag him off to the other side of the crowded table.

SUZANNE
stared at Ryder’s retreating back as he let Hunter pull him along and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. He was freaking her out with his soul-searching looks and empathy for the Nikki situation. Not that Ryder was normally a total jerk, but he didn’t usually express so much outward concern, and it was unnerving.

But the looks were really making her squirm. He looked thoughtful, like he was seeing her for the first time.

Running her sweaty palms down the front of her skirt, Suzanne assessed the table, wondering where to sit. She supposed she could sit next to Ryder if there were no other empty chairs, but to just go right to him and sit there, well, people would think it was weird. Wouldn’t they? Maybe no one else thought twice about it, but to her it seemed obvious, like it would scream that she and Ryder had crossed the line exes normally don’t venture across.

Then again, she was probably drawing even more attention to them by not speaking to him when he had come into the living room. That had been stupid, not to mention rude, but her heart had sped up when she’d seen him and she had been unable to meet his eyes, not sure what to say. So she had ignored him and that made her a bitch.

Shit.

Tammy was still bustling around the table laying down dishes, as was Mrs. Monroe and Tammy’s mother, but everyone else had taken a seat around the massive oak table. The only available chairs were next to Elec and Mr. Monroe, which had clearly been left open for their respective wives, and the one next to Ryder.

Trying to move neither quickly nor slowly, just some kind of normal, Suzanne went to the chair next to Ryder and sat down, yanking her chair in closer to the table and fussing with her napkin so she didn’t have to look at him. That resolve disintegrated when she felt his hand on her knee. Swinging her head to the left, she gave him a questioning look. Ryder just smiled and squeezed her knee.

With a frown, Suzanne focused on her dinner plate. It had a turkey design on it, a plump elegant gobbler, which freaked Suzanne out. It seemed downright bizarre to be eating turkey off of a turkey. Not that it was going to stop her. She was starving and the food aromas were assaulting her from every direction, and she was going to do some eating, and nothing was going to distract her from that.

Ryder’s hand moved an inch higher, leaving the safe territory of her knee and venturing into the danger zone of the thigh. What the hell was he doing? They hadn’t spoken in days and he was going to choose a family dinner with small children around to get frisky?

She shifted her leg so his hand dropped off.

Elec was carving the turkey, and a bottle of wine was being passed around. Hunter, who had a voice that could overpower a race car engine, held up her hand and yelled, “Wait! Before we eat we should go around the table and say what we’re thankful for. I’ll start.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, baby girl,” Elec told her.

Hunter listed all of her family, her godfather Ty, who was with Imogen and his parents for Thanksgiving, sunshine, and stock car racing as things she was thankful for, and tacked on Suzanne and Ryder at the end as if she’d realized they were sitting right by her. Even if she was just an add-on, Suzanne was touched. When Elec mentioned his family and his wife, the look he gave Tammy was so loving, Suzanne felt a lump forming in her throat. She was so happy for her friend that she’d found a second chance at love.

Mrs. Monroe gave a touching speech about family and the joy of having step-grandchildren, and even Evan managed to give a genuine statement of thanks for his family and friends, though he ended it with, “And I’m thankful for the opportunity to have a career I love, that pays well, and allows me to spend more time with my family. Wait, I guess that’s what you call a mixed blessing.”

He grinned and turned to Pete. “Your turn, buddy.”

Pete, being a ten-year-old boy, said, “I’m thankful for turkey and sweet potatoes, if I ever get to eat them.”

Suzanne was hungry herself and feeling an uncomfortable anxiety creeping over her. While she wanted to be thankful, she wasn’t sure she was. There was a certain melancholy in listening to a large family appreciate each other. It was just her, still, and that kind of hurt.

So for her turn, she did what was typical for her when she was feeling bad—she gave a lighthearted pat answer and hoped like hell they’d just keep on moving down the line. “I’m thankful for my health, Black Friday sales at Macy’s, and my friends.”

Hunter, who had cross-examined everyone on their blessings, asked, “What about your family? Aren’t you thankful for them?”

You know, she loved the kid, but really? Maybe Hunter would like to poke Suzanne in the eye, too.

“Hunter! That’s enough,” Tammy said, her look to Suzanne sympathetic.

Oh, well, whatever. There was the truth and Suzanne had lived with it long enough. “I don’t have any family, honey. My granny and granddad raised me and they passed away. I don’t have any brothers or sisters or aunts or uncles.”