boys. It’s good of you.”
Ryland’s sexy mouth formed an O and then he pursed it altogether, obviously rethinking his next statement. “Thanks,” he muttered.
Lia felt disappointed, although she wasn’t sure why. It seemed her every interaction with Ryland left her reeling, even the small, insignificant ones. Perhaps because there was something inside her that was declaring there was no such thing as an insignificant moment with him. “Anyway,” she mumbled. “I’ll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you.” She turned and walked down the hall.
“Lia,” he began.
She didn’t give him a chance to finish. She wanted to return to her writing and consider the amazing things she’d seen. And suddenly, she felt like forcing Claudio and Adelaide to have a real, thrash-it-out fight.
* * * *
Saturday evening. On his way to the fish fry, Ryland still felt guilty for being so abrupt and gruff with Lia the last time he saw her, outside the exercise room. And since then, she’d been ensconced in her room. The one next to his, the one he’d put her in, not that it mattered. She was always busy at her laptop, which he supposed was good. It was why she was here. But every time he spoke with her, it seemed he said the wrong thing, or said it the wrong way.
Truth be told, she intimidated him. The woman wrote porn, okay, erotica . Not that he understood the damned difference. What on earth must she be getting up to in that room? He was way too intrigued to be happy about it.
And he’d never lost sight of the fact some strange man had played in her underwear drawer. The whole situation didn’t sit right with him. The woman had a stalker. How creepy was that?
Soren kept asking about her too, which made him even sorer. And who was he kidding? He’d seen Lia’s initial reaction to his brother. He’d seen the clear attraction there, and all his old grudges were issuing forth because of it. Soren made a pass and Lia had responded. Hell, he could barely even blame his sibling. Baby brother had been laying it on so thickly with the ladies all his life Ryland doubted Soren even knew when he was flirting half the time. Charm just oozed out of him, like pus from a sore, infecting all those it touched.
Damn.
Not that he had any reason to feel this way. Hell, Ryland had done all right with women. A lot of women. Sure, they flocked to his charismatic brother whenever he was in the vicinity, but Ryland had had his share. Carter hadn’t been stretching the truth when he said the ladies were drawn to shifter men. He knew on some level the animal in a man like him appealed to many women, shifter and nonshifter alike. He saw it as his responsibility to temper that magnetism, not revel in it like Soren did.
Anyway, it wasn’t about the women. It was about the fact Soren felt he could take anything he wanted.
Forget Soren. Just ask Lia if she wants to go to the fish fry . She was likely hungry and tired of room service.
Ryland turned the corner, heading toward Lia’s room. As if on cue, Soren appeared in the same hallway. He called out. “Ry!”
He turned. And groaned. Soren was head to toe in black leather and sunglasses at night. Black leather pants. Black leather jacket. And no shirt. Ryland caught a glimpse of rock-hard abs no musician should possess and swore under his breath. “Where do you think you’re going in that ridiculous getup, Soren? Freaking Studio 54? We’re in the goddamn woods.”
Soren inspected Ryland’s outfit and huffed. “You have issues with my outfit? What about yours? I see you’ve graduated from red plaid to red and blue plaid. You look like you’re the keynote speaker at a lumberjack graduation.”
Ryland grunted in warning. He glanced at his clothing. He’d chosen his best, cleanest jeans and most expensive, okay, plaid shirt.
Maybe Soren had a point. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud.
“There’s a fish fry tonight, right? Marci told me.”
Ryland’s blood pressure kicked up a
Ryland’s sexy mouth formed an O and then he pursed it altogether, obviously rethinking his next statement. “Thanks,” he muttered.
Lia felt disappointed, although she wasn’t sure why. It seemed her every interaction with Ryland left her reeling, even the small, insignificant ones. Perhaps because there was something inside her that was declaring there was no such thing as an insignificant moment with him. “Anyway,” she mumbled. “I’ll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you.” She turned and walked down the hall.
“Lia,” he began.
She didn’t give him a chance to finish. She wanted to return to her writing and consider the amazing things she’d seen. And suddenly, she felt like forcing Claudio and Adelaide to have a real, thrash-it-out fight.
* * * *
Saturday evening. On his way to the fish fry, Ryland still felt guilty for being so abrupt and gruff with Lia the last time he saw her, outside the exercise room. And since then, she’d been ensconced in her room. The one next to his, the one he’d put her in, not that it mattered. She was always busy at her laptop, which he supposed was good. It was why she was here. But every time he spoke with her, it seemed he said the wrong thing, or said it the wrong way.
Truth be told, she intimidated him. The woman wrote porn, okay, erotica . Not that he understood the damned difference. What on earth must she be getting up to in that room? He was way too intrigued to be happy about it.
And he’d never lost sight of the fact some strange man had played in her underwear drawer. The whole situation didn’t sit right with him. The woman had a stalker. How creepy was that?
Soren kept asking about her too, which made him even sorer. And who was he kidding? He’d seen Lia’s initial reaction to his brother. He’d seen the clear attraction there, and all his old grudges were issuing forth because of it. Soren made a pass and Lia had responded. Hell, he could barely even blame his sibling. Baby brother had been laying it on so thickly with the ladies all his life Ryland doubted Soren even knew when he was flirting half the time. Charm just oozed out of him, like pus from a sore, infecting all those it touched.
Damn.
Not that he had any reason to feel this way. Hell, Ryland had done all right with women. A lot of women. Sure, they flocked to his charismatic brother whenever he was in the vicinity, but Ryland had had his share. Carter hadn’t been stretching the truth when he said the ladies were drawn to shifter men. He knew on some level the animal in a man like him appealed to many women, shifter and nonshifter alike. He saw it as his responsibility to temper that magnetism, not revel in it like Soren did.
Anyway, it wasn’t about the women. It was about the fact Soren felt he could take anything he wanted.
Forget Soren. Just ask Lia if she wants to go to the fish fry . She was likely hungry and tired of room service.
Ryland turned the corner, heading toward Lia’s room. As if on cue, Soren appeared in the same hallway. He called out. “Ry!”
He turned. And groaned. Soren was head to toe in black leather and sunglasses at night. Black leather pants. Black leather jacket. And no shirt. Ryland caught a glimpse of rock-hard abs no musician should possess and swore under his breath. “Where do you think you’re going in that ridiculous getup, Soren? Freaking Studio 54? We’re in the goddamn woods.”
Soren inspected Ryland’s outfit and huffed. “You have issues with my outfit? What about yours? I see you’ve graduated from red plaid to red and blue plaid. You look like you’re the keynote speaker at a lumberjack graduation.”
Ryland grunted in warning. He glanced at his clothing. He’d chosen his best, cleanest jeans and most expensive, okay, plaid shirt.
Maybe Soren had a point. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud.
“There’s a fish fry tonight, right? Marci told me.”
Ryland’s blood pressure kicked up a
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