3
Copulate
GuilttuggedheavyinRyder’s chest. For the first time in, who the hell knew, years maybe, he left his phone in the car. He was too far away for his watch to connect, so he had no link to the outside world. And he was immersed in a golden opportunity to network with half a damn pro football team, all donning Super Bowl rings.
Instead, he quietly ate dinner surrounded by his family. At least Claire and Grady weren’t codependent, and while the wedding party and significant others ended up at one table, she gave up her seat for Finn’s widower dad so he could sit with his kids. So, at least Ryder got to catch up with Claire. It could be awkward, especially as he’d been a shitty boyfriend, and honestly, probably not that good of a friend either. Oddly enough, they had an easier time visiting now than when they were together.
Gushing toasts. Adorable cake in the face, sweetly cleaned off. No thrown flowers or garter belts, thank fucking hell, as he abhorred that weird and criminally offensive act where singletons were forced to either pretend or admit they were looking for marriage.
It should have been a miserable evening, but damn, watching Zoe was like a mini vacation. The woman had energy. Quick to laugh, confident. She glowed.
Not so long ago, before Claire, anyway, Ryder would have added a swagger to his step and crossed the dance floor. He would have flashed a wink as he reached Zoe, and claimed his dance in a possessive takeover from his brother.
Tonight, he… well, okay.
Grady had, after all, moved in on Claire before she’d dumped Ryder. No hard feelings, but he had a hell of a debt to collect on. And for a dance with Zoe? Definitely the right moment.
Ryder ditched his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and teased a hand in his hair, smoothing it but leaving a little rebellion in it as he crossed midway through the song. If he’d learned anything from losing his girlfriend to his brother, it was that a little rebellion was sexier than perfection.
“Oh, hey, Grady, I think I overheard Claire talking to someone about some rescue cows that needed new homes?” Ryder snuck a glinting look at Zoe, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh, squinting mischievously at him.
Grady stepped back and huffed a sigh. “We haven’t even broken ground on the barn yet.” He grumbled and rolled his eyes, but the adoration in there nagged at Ryder. Fuck. If Claire had brought home cows when they were dating—not that there was room in the Phoenix townhouse—Ryder would have flipped.
As Grady dashed across the room and looked for Claire, Ryder smugly offered a hand for Zoe to either slap away or accept.
She laughed and shook her head, but she skipped the hand and slid both arms over his shoulders. A rush of butterflies filled his chest at the move, as she drew in close. Whatever she thought of him, probably deservedly, she was giving him a big fucking chance.
As the rhythm picked up, his mind quieted for the first time in ages. Of course, the music pumped so loud, and the beat so heavy with bass, he couldn’t hear himself think.
Even when she turned with the music, moved her feet, her arms, she didn’t stop touching him. A light brush over his abdomen. Fingertips teasing in his hair. Those lush brown eyes locking him into her world. After several dances, too many, slow and fast and everywhere in between, Ryder was buzzing.
A new song came on, and he should probably do something, say something, like, maybe see if she wanted to go for a walk and talk. Bizarre synthesizer sounds twerked oddly, but it was a surprisingly movement-inducing song. Zoe laughed as they had to get creative with their moves to keep up with the accelerating rhythm, and they weren’t the only ones, clearly a DJ trick to spice things up.
“Eek,” she squealed suddenly and crossed her arms over her chest.
Eyes wide, Ryder froze and asked, “What? Are you okay?”
“Bra malfunction.” She bit her lips together and scanned the room. “Help,” she said with a snorty laugh.
He glanced down and erupted instantly in a laugh. In the magic of the moment, she’d sprouted a second set of boobs. Or, the strapless bra had slipped down. He couldn’t help but laugh, but he quickly cleared his throat and asked in a serious voice, “What can I do?”
One hand braced over her chest, she patted and tested, scowling as she glared down helplessly. “Lead the way and I’ll hide behind you.”
He headed for the kitchen, aiming for the back bathrooms that the guests wouldn’t have access to.
“Not the kitchen.” Right behind him, her voice was still filled with amusement but a shrill of panic under the giggle.
“Right,” he said, realizing it might still be full of her employees.
He veered toward the main hall and led the way past chattering guests all the way to the foyer, voices echoing under the high ceilings and marble floors, and found the bathroom under the stairs nearest to the front door. He leaned close to hear over the noise of the house, and tapped on the door.
No answer.
He grasped the golden egg knob and twisted, the tall but angled door swinging open. Wow, his mother really needed to let Haley redo the entire house, but he knew she was doing room by room for her blog. This bathroom was… unique.
“Go ahead.” He motioned Zoe ahead, into the shiny gold, white, and tropical bathroom. The plants couldn’t be real, no natural sunlight, but it was like a glam jungle in there.
She slipped past and closed herself in.
