Still Not Over You Page 14

  “Yep, it sure is.” Then Ryder remembered that he’d cooked it. “Thank you.”

  “To...d-dinner,” he said, lifting his glass for the second time. Phoebe suspected that he’d almost said Dad.

  Suppressing a giggle, she joined the toast. “To dinner.” She wasn’t going to grill him and spoil his efforts.

  After dinner, they sat on the porch. She always loved this time of day. Everything got so still down on the beach. The children had all been put to bed, leaving a faint hush and only the sound of the waves lapping the shoreline.

  “I kind of miss the bowls set around to catch the rain,” she said.

  “You do?” Ryder sat next to her, close enough that she could see his surprise in the gathering shadows.

  “I’m teasing. Of course I’m glad you fixed the roof.”

  “You’re always teasing me.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Then what was last night?” But Ryder didn’t look mad. His lips tipped into a lazy grin, and she gulped. Leaning his head on one hand, he gazed at her. “I’m really tired.”

  “All that painting.”

  “All that thinking.” Heaving a sigh, he ran his fingers up through those crazy curls.

  “And the cooking,” she added.

  “Right. That too. Maybe you should go to bed.”

  A light flicked on in his eyes. “Are you, ah, going to bed now?”

  “No, not yet.” This might call for more self-restraint than she could muster. After all, she didn’t want to end up at the bathroom double sink with him. “I think I’ll just watch the fireflies.”

  His face sagged with disappointment. “Then I will too.”

  What? He needed sleep. “Oh, Ryder, you must be exhausted. All that painting and cooking.”

  Did she hear him add wooing to that list under his breath?

  “Sure, but I’ll just keep you company.” The poor guy only lasted ten minutes before he was nodding off, his head bobbing while his eyes fluttered open and shut. “Ryder, go to bed,” she finally whispered in his ear.

  With a reluctant grin, he heaved himself up. Oh, my. She got a good glimpse of his full-bodied Greek godness. “You really are a tease. You know that, Phoebe Branson?”

  “Hunicutt.”

  “Uh huh. Right.” Bending, he brushed a kiss across her forehead. The sweetness of the gesture jolted her. He smelled of the kitchen, and for some reason that was a turn-on. She had to fight the urge to pull him down again.

  But she didn’t. She was being so good. This time.

  That night she took her time cleaning up the kitchen. Amid the mess, she found a note scrawled in Stanley’s handwriting. “350 degrees for one hour.” Crumpling it up, she smiled and tossed it in the trash.

  ~.~

  The next week passed slowly. Every day Ryder was out there painting. Because of the heat, he’d gone from jeans to shorts. The sight of his muscled legs wore on Phoebe. In the past she’d had a lot of use for them. But that wasn't happening. After that evening on the sand, he felt distant. Oh, he kept taking her down to the beach every night for the sunset, and sure, she was grateful. They sat there together, a sand pail away from each other.

  No kisses. No cuddling.

  Although Phoebe tried to convince herself she liked it this way, the strain wore on her. She’d be glad when this fix-up process was behind them and he was gone. But when she thought of Ryder taking off with his toolbox, she felt a whole new sense of hollow open up inside where her heart beat.

  “The siding needs a second coat,” he told her, coming in one day. “I’m headed over to Melvin’s.”

  “Can I come?” She was bored silly. Her efforts to reorganize her kitchen had failed. In the end, she just jammed everything back into the cupboards.

  “Of course. Okay if we use your car?” His father still had his truck, and Phoebe was glad. With the grass and weeds so long, it was starting to look like a junk yard. If she didn’t watch it, the neighbors might complain.

  But when they got inside the Mini Cooper and buckled up, she started to laugh.

  “What?” They were backing down the driveway and he put his foot on the brake. “What’s so damn funny?”

  “You crammed into this car.”

  Looking highly offended, he took his foot off the brake, and they continued down the lane. “You thought this car was cute when I bought it for you.”

  That sobered her up fast. “Was one of the sweetest things you ever did for me.” Sometimes she hated using the past tense with him.

  The muscle jumped in his cheek, and he turned his attention to the road.

  Getting out felt great. Melvin’s was only a mile down the road, and they reached the paint store in no time. When they swung through the door, Melvin and Louella were the only ones in the place. Melvin looked up from a calculator and waved. “Hey, look who’s come to visit, Louella.”

  Turning from her project, his wife smiled. Then her greeting turned to concern. “Goodness me. Whatever happened to you, Phoebe?”

  “I fell off the ladder. Do you believe it?”

  Louella exchanged a glance with her husband. “Well, you shouldn’t have been up there anyway.” Obviously curious, her attention swung to Ryder. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  She’d always had a soft spot for Ryder. Maybe every woman in town did.

  By that time the four of them were clustered at the register. “So what are you two up to?” Melvin asked, although Phoebe thought she saw Louella give him a poke.

  “Just getting more paint for the house,” Ryder said in a matter-of-fact voice. She was proud of him.

  While Ryder dealt with Melvin, Phoebe made her way over to Louella’s work area. “What are you working on?”

  “A table. I’ve always thought our supper table needed a little oomph, if you know what I mean. It never had much character.”

  “Louella, this looks beautiful.” The table had been painted a pale blue base. Green tendrils decorated the edges with brilliant deep blue morning glories blooming among the vines and down the legs. “I love it. Wish my table could look like this.”

  She’d found the table for the porch at Harbert’s Antiques. The only stylish thing about it were the legs that arched gently to the floor.

  “You seem like a creative girl, Phoebe. Why don’t you paint the table?”

  “Well, maybe. After all I did start the painting project, well, before I broke my leg. Might be nice to have something to do while Ryder works outside. I’ve been bored but I don’t want to go into the shop.” No way could she endure the frank curiosity of her employees and customers. Everyone in the darn town probably knew Ryder was working at the cottage. There would be no end to their ribbing, especially if they found out he was staying with her too.

  “Easy peasy. Ryder could just set you up with a stool. First you put down the base.” As Louella took her through the steps, Phoebe’s confidence grew. She’d taken art class in high school and had done well. By the time Ryder was lugging four more gallons of paint to the car, Louella had talked Phoebe into sky blue paint, along with some pints of green and sand beige. She was going to do the lakeshore. Picture all the places she loved.

  “And I want some red paint too,” she told Melvin. “Just a small can for red buckets.”

  “Let me help you,” Ryder said, taking the brushes from her. “You look like a woman with a plan.”

  “Wait until you see.”

  Ryder’s phone pinged. Another blasted text message, and she turned away. Ryder tapped on his phone screen while she stood there silently, feeling something die inside. So what happened with him on the beach that night didn’t mean anything? He hustled her into the car. She was quiet all the way home.

  “You feeling okay?” Ryder asked when they reached Lake Shore Drive. “You’re being mighty quiet.”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be taking on this project.”

  Now he was giving her advic
e? “I guess I’ll be the judge of that.”

  They didn’t speak the rest of the day and she felt miserable.

  The next day Phoebe spread newspapers all over the porch. In two shakes Ryder had the paint can open and had taken sandpaper to the table. Overnight, the tension between them had eased. So silly. Working together felt a little uncomfortable at times but right.

  Chapter 15

  The brightest spot on Phoebe’s calendar was the Fourth of July parade. Even though Ryder had taken her to visit the salon a couple of times, people asked too many questions. One look at him and they didn’t want to know how she was. They wanted to know what she was doing with Ryder. Especially Jen, since her assistant had been the one who saw Ryder with Trixie Tatum that night.

  The Fourth of July dawned sunny and warm, without being too hot. Phoebe slipped into the flag-striped top that bared her middle and the mini skirt that had become the main staple of her wardrobe. Her sparkling star earrings were the final touch, as was the glittery star glued to her right cheek.

  “Don't you look nice,” Ryder said when she made it out to the kitchen area. But his eyes said way more than nice. They navigated her body like a GPS, and she flushed right to her toes––not easy considering the cast. “So, you don’t have the other half of that shirt?”

  “Gee thanks, Ryder.” Scooping the car keys off the hook next to the door, she tossed them to him. He was still scowling. “Let’s hit the road.”

  Clutching the keys, he gave up. She could see it in his face. “Your earrings look cute.”

  “Got them online. One twist and they blink.” She demonstrated.

  He rolled his eyes. “Terrific. Like you need those to call attention to yourself.”

  This was getting ridiculous. “Look, you’re not my father, Ryder. And you’re not my husband. But you’re sounding like both.”

  The air felt strained so tight, she could have bounced a quarter off it. A dark red stain worked its way up Ryder’s neck. For a second he looked at a loss. “You’re right.” His shoulders dropped. “Sorry.”

  Apologies came hard for Ryder. His words on the beach that one night had surprised her. Still, she was drawing a line. “You look nice too,” she offered. Kind of a consolation prize. The pale blue polo accented his tan and gave his eyes a dusky blue cast.

  “Thanks, Pheebs.” He gave her a half smile.

  Okay, they were back to sounding like a couple. Time to get out of here. “Are we ready?” she asked, eager to hit the road.

  Next thing she knew, she was sitting in the Mini Cooper, with Ryder sandwiched into the driver’s seat––a picture that still made her giggle. Ryder had adjusted the seat to accommodate his height. The position definitely didn’t look comfortable. “That’s it. I’m having my truck driven down here next week.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  More of his stuff around. But she didn’t want to make a fuss. Phoebe was getting used to having Ryder and his belongings around, and it felt way too good.

  When they reached town, Ryder found a parking spot on a side street near the library. “You think you can walk this far?”

  “Sure, no problem.” No way was she letting this cast get her down. Although she told herself that every day, the weight and clumsiness took a toll. By nighttime she could hardly drag herself to bed. Then she’d lie awake, listening for Ryder in the bedroom above her. Every foot fall sent a different message. Was he tired? Did he regret coming? Ridiculous how much she read into that creaking above her head.

  Sliding out of the Mini Cooper, Ryder came around to open her door. “Phoebe?”

  When she jerked, her earrings danced against her neck. “Sorry. Daydreaming, I guess.” Helping her from the car, he handed her the crutch. The doctor said that soon she’d be in a walking cast and she couldn’t wait.

  Physically, she felt a whole lot better and had to admit those afternoon naps had helped. Since she started on her table, she hated to take naps. The painting kept her excited, not that her project was turning out that great. Sometimes she wished she’d never started it. Phoebe was still working on getting the base coat smooth. Ryder had found a stool for her that was just the right height.

  The way he fussed about her touched her heart. Still the texts kept pinging. He was being very secretive and that made her suspicious.

  People were lined up along Whitaker Street. Once they saw her crutch, folks stepped aside.

  “Look, Ryder. There’s Kate!” Phoebe waved so hard, she almost lost her crutch. Being with other people would be such a relief.

  Cole steered Kate through the crowd as if he had precious cargo onboard. His daughter Natalie came close behind with Priscilla, the Great Dane, holding up the rear. The huge dog’s tail whipped back and forth, clearing the area.

  “Guess you have your own parade,” Phoebe said as Kate drew closer and bent to give her a hug. The guys exchanged a quick handshake. She wondered what Kate had told Cole about their situation. “You look as if you might deliver any second now,” Phoebe said.

  “Nope. Still have a ways to go.” Kate pressed a hand into her back. “All I want to do is sit on the beach. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, just fine.”

  Behind them, the two men got into a conversation about the future of Gull Harbor. That was a main focus of Kate's new husband, since he was the city planner.

  “Natalie, did you bring a bag for your candy?” Phoebe asked. The wrapped candy was a parade tradition. Everyone on the floats tossed candy to the crowd while the children scrambled to pick it up.

  “Sure did. But dad says I can only have two pieces a day.” Natalie rolled her eyes. “Do you believe it?”

  Phoebe exchanged a look with Kate. “He's only trying to protect your teeth, Natalie. You don't want to end up with cavities like me. Not unless you like going to the dentist.”

  When Natalie made a face, Kate gave Phoebe a thumbs up. Seeing Cole and Ryder deep in conversation, Phoebe felt a wave of contentment. Wouldn’t it be nice if this was her life? Being part of the community with a man at her side? Idle dreams and she jerked herself back to the excited crowd dressed in red, white and blue.

  Just as the band began to play, Diana and Will showed up with Maisy and Will’s parents trailing behind. Dressed in black with that green streak in her hair, Maisy was a stark contrast to the rest of the townspeople today. Poor Diana, trying to cope with the rebellious teen. But if her step-niece bothered her, Diana never showed it. Eyes sparkling, she greeted everyone, introducing Maisy and Will’s parents. Of course she looked gorgeous in a long flowing skirt, the kind she sold in Hippy Chick. Will’s parents looked thrilled to be there, taking everything in.

  Raising her brows, Diana glanced over at Ryder and then circled back to give Phoebe a questioning glance. But Phoebe gave her a slight shake of the head. No way did she want her friends to think that anything was going on. The questions would be unbearable.

  Besides, nothing was happening. Ryder had become distant, well, except for the checker games. They both liked to win, so the games became heated. And that’s when they were fun.

  The blare of brass instruments halted her wandering mind. The high school band led the parade, their glittering hats sparkling in the sun. As they marched, they swung their shiny instruments in time to the music. If only Carolyn could see this. Taking her phone from her shoulder bag, she snapped some pictures. Last summer Phoebe had come to the parade with Carolyn. An English teacher, she knew the students in the band and shouted encouragement as the kids strutted past. Clearly they adored her.

  But this summer? Carolyn was in Santa Fe. And Phoebe couldn't wait to hear more about it. Of course, Carolyn would want a report about Phoebe’s own situation, and she didn’t have one. Sunglasses in place, Ryder watched the parade. But he must have felt her eyes on him and he bent his head. “Everything good?”

  “Fine, just fine.”

  “Here, lean on me. You shouldn’t be standing like this.” And he pulled her gently aga
inst his body. At first she stiffened but why not? Phoebe let her weight sag onto Ryder. Once she got close to his warmth, she had to sling one arm around his waist. Just for support of course.

  Her loneliness gradually was banished by the sunny day and the circle of friends.

  As the first float from the Gull Harbor Community Services came past, the crowd erupted into cheers. Kate waved to her sister Mercedes, perched on the float in all her blonde beauty. She tossed candy from a big blue basket, her smile brilliant. “Thank goodness, I’m pregnant,” Kate told Phoebe. “Otherwise it would be me up on that float.” The two sisters worked together in the Gull Harbor public relations department.

  Just about every business in town took part in the parade. Crepe paper streamers floated in the breeze while the people on the floats waved and tossed candy.

  “Butterscotch balls,” she cried, spying her favorites. “Oh, I wish I could have some.”

  “Stay here.” With that Ryder dove into the crowd, returning with three cellophane wrapped balls.

  Balancing on her one leg, she took them. “You are so sweet.”

  Pulling her against him, Ryder smiled. “And you are such a little girl sometimes.”

  Candy bulging in one cheek, she pouted. “Am not.”

  “Hey, I mean that in a good way.” He tousled her hair. “That’s why I love––”

  “What?” Lifting her head, she barely had breath for that one word. But his smile faded, and she was left with hard candy. For now, that would have to do.

  Ryder Branson had never been a guy to toss the L word around. Oh, he was great at flirting. Generous with compliments. But I love you? That took work.

  And thought. And feeling.

  Besides, in their situation right now, she’d never believe him. No, that comment had come from some deep place in their past.

  Still, she didn’t peel away from Ryder’s body. “The candy okay?” he asked a couple seconds later. A nod was all she could manage.

  Across the street Sarah stood along the curb next to her mother. The two women kept a tight eye on Nathan and Justin as they snatched up the candy. This day must be sad for Sarah, now a young widow.