Page 61 of Ryder's War

“You are the most arrogant little snot I ever met, so I know that ain’t true.” Ringing the doorbell, Ven seemed surprised when Hickory answered.

“Come on in. Sarah’s finishing up dinner.”

Ryder inhaled, and suddenly he was starving. Stepping over the threshold, he murmured, “It smells delicious. Where should I put the cake?”

Hickory couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Follow me. We got a little surprise for you.”

“The normal response to that statement among the brothers is I hope it’s a stripper, only I ain’t interested in stripers no more.”

A soft, feminine voice said, “I’m glad to hear it. How about errant girlfriends? You got any interest in those?”

Ryder almost dropped the cake as his eyes shot around the kitchen looking for her. He’d recognize the voice of his favorite nurse anywhere. The second he spotted her, someone jerked the cake out of his hands, and he was moving across the room.

Tiffany looked even better than he remembered. She eagerly met him halfway. The next thing Ryder knew, they were in each other’s arms, and she was pulling him close and kissing him back.

He didn’t know how long they were at it, but his father’s embarrassed voice interrupted their moment. “You’ll have to excuse my son, Sarah. His mother and I did our best, but none of the good manners seemed to stick.”

Ryder pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against Tiffany’s. “Do you hear that? My old man thinks I have no manners. Whatcha think of that, baby girl?”

Refusing to remove her arms from around his waist, she murmured, “I think when two people are broken in opposite ways, it makes them perfect for each other. Come, let me introduce youto my mother.” Turning, she grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

Looking up at the older woman for the first time, Ryder realized she was almost a slightly older copy of his old lady. Without thinking, he mumbled, “Wow, you two could be sisters.”

Laughing, the older woman stepped forward. “You were right, dear. He’s a keeper.”

Reaching out, Ryder gave her a gentle hug and a kiss on the top of the head. “It’s real nice to meet you, Mrs. Donovan. Thanks for inviting us to your nice home.”

“It’s the least I could do since you’ve been taking such good care of my daughter.”

“Well now, that was my pleasure, ma’am. Your daughter is a fine lady, and I’m honored that she chose to spend time with me.”

“I understand that beef roast is one of your favorite dinners?” she asked him.

He covered his growling stomach with a hand. “I’ll eat anything that doesn’t eat me first, but I’m real partial to a nice roast.”

“Well, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried mine,” Sarah said confidently. “Have a seat in the dining room, and it’ll be ready in a bit.”

Tiffany led him into the next room. Ryder grabbed a seat and pulled her into his lap. “I missed you, baby. Thanks for letting me back in.”

“Sorry I panicked like I did,” she apologized, her expression tight. “It took me a few days to get my head straight about the club, whores, and my ex.”

“We can talk about all that after we solve the Stuart problem. I hear you’ve been giving him a run for his money.”

Her face lit up. “About that. Messing with that man is proving to be much easier than I thought.”

“Did you really write him a gigantic note in purple crayon? My old man said he freaked the fuck out.”

She grinned. “When we were in grade school, he used to trade all the crayons in his box for different shades of purple. He’s weird in a lot of ways. In the note, I reversed everything he ever demanded of me. I told him that he was to stop looking at me as his property, trying to find me when I leave town, calling me, e-mailing me, sending me gifts, and about a dozen other things. The purple crayon was a reminder of how the other kids used to tease him. I guess my little reminder must have hit the mark.”

The glint in her eye spoke of newfound power—not the raw brutality she'd run from, but the calculated precision of someone who'd learned to turn fear into strategy. Her prey had become predator.

“Oh yeah, he took the stupid thing to the police, and they basically laughed in his face.”

“Good, because when they find him trying to contact me, they’re gonna know the extremes I went to in order to get him to stop.”

“That’s real smart, baby girl. What other stuff have you been doing to him?”

“Anything I can think of,” she said with a lift of her chin. “Let’s see, I sent him a picture of a gingerbread boy with a message written on the back. He would have had to put it together to read about how I’m finished running from him.”

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