Page 22 of The Moment He Saw Her

The head lowered further. “Aw, hell, have you been crying?”

“No.” Libby wiped her eyes. “I had a sneezing fit.”

“Sure you did.” He grabbed her arm and marched to his vehicle. Pulling open the passenger door, he picked her up and dropped her on the seat. “Stay,” he then ordered before slamming it shut.

Libby reached for the door to get out, but the cab was warm and smelled really nice, so she didn’t. Instead, she watched as he looked inside her car. She had a sudden thought he may open her trunk and reached for the door again, but he just grabbed her suitcase, opened it, and stuffed the things she’d taken out back inside. Zipping it up, he then came back to his vehicle and threw her case in the rear seat.

“Car keys?” He then opened her door and held out a hand. “Now.” The last word came out a growl.

She slapped the key into his large gloved hand. He then locked the car and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Ryder—”

“Shut up. We need to get out of here in case Grill and his idiot gang mates come back with reinforcements.”

“Don’t—”

“Shut up, please,” he snapped. He then revved the engine loud enough to let her know how pissed he was and backed out of the driveway.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere to thaw out,” he said, cranking up the heater. “At least you changed your jacket for something that may not give you hypothermia. You do realize the danger you put yourself in, right?” The muscles in his jaw were clenched.

“I would have been all right for the night. I have on lots of clothes.”

He didn’t speak again, just drove slowly back down the main street toward his cafe with his teeth clenched. Did he live above it? But he turned at the end of town and then pulled into the driveway of a bungalow. It was nice—a place that a family would grow up together. The boards were a soft gray, and the trim white. A brick path wound its way to the front door.

Libby had seen houses like this in TV shows. Places where kids played in the streets and the neighbors knew one another. Her home had been shut away behind tall gates.

“Who lives here?”

“Me,” he said.

“I’m not staying here with you.”

His eyes raked over her. “You’re safe. I don’t go for brainless girls who worry more about what they look like than real shit that keeps them safe. Now get inside.”

Those words actually made her speechless. How dared he talk to her like that when he knew nothing about her. “I’m not brainless. I’ll have you know that I have a bachelor’s degree in accounting!” she managed to get out. “Nor do I care more about my looks than my safety.” No one in her life had spoken to her like that before.

“So you’re one of those smart people with no common sense,” he said and then got out of the car. He took her suitcase from the back seat and a bag of what she presumed was takeout and where the delicious smells had come from, and then he stomped up to the front door. Opening it without unlocking it first, he stepped inside and slammed it shut behind him.

“Well, hell,” Libby whispered.

She could go in there and get her case back from the grumpy cafe owner or just walk away. But then where could she walk to? She sat there weighing her options, of which there were none.

Frustration, anger—it all warred inside her for supremacy. Her life had been so good. Everything where she’d wanted it to be. Even her father was beginning to take her seriously, and then she’d chosen to walk away. When she saw the plumes of smoke wisp through the air, she knew Ryder Duke had lit the fire. Getting out, she walked up to the door and knocked.

“It’s open!”

She’d known that but hadn’t wanted to just enter. Opening the door, she stepped inside. He was seated on the sofa facing the fire. The huge TV above was playing a game. Not just any game—it was the team her family supported.

“I want my suitcase, please,” Libby said with her eyes on the TV.

“Sure. It’s down the hall, first door on the right. But you’re not leaving this house tonight.”

She watched as he took a huge mouthful of meat loaf that looked good even though she’d eaten waffles not that long ago. Libby had always had a big appetite.

“Go shed some layers and then grab a plate and dish up some food from the containers in the kitchen,” he said like she was a friend or girlfriend and they were comfortable with each other… which they weren’t because he’d just yelled at her and called her dumb.

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