Page 23 of The Moment He Saw Her

“Ryder—”

“Libby, I have no clue what your deal is, but you can’t sleep in your car. I know all the accommodations are booked up in town. I worked my ass off today, and I’m tired. So go to bed if you want. The bathroom is next door, and I’ll see you in the morning. If not, get food and shut up. I want to watch the game.”

He’d spoken the words while watching the TV.

She looked at the screen and froze as the camera flashed to where the sponsors all sat.

“Or stand there, because that won’t be annoying,” he said.

“Look, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. I’ll add we don’t like each other. I can’t just stay here.” Libby felt like the panic was choking her now.

“Ryder Duke. Third eldest out of five. Owner of the cafe you start work at in the morning. A few annoying habits and other shit, but for the most, a goodish guy—ask anyone.” He was still looking at the TV as he spoke. “Your turn. I mean, how do I know you won’t jump me in the middle of the night?”

She actually gasped at those words.

“Or you could rob me and make a run for it… on foot because Bob’s fixing your car.”

He had a nice voice, deep and even. Calming, Libby thought, when inside she was anything but.

“Libby Gulliver,” she said, “and I won’t steal from you or… ah, or jump you.”

“Okay, so we’re sweet?” He shot her a look. “And I don’t dislike you—we’re just not each other’s type.”

“How do you know my type?”

He did look at her now, running his eyes over her body. “Rich guy, classy suits, who can take you on vacations in the Bahamas and throw plenty of money about the place?”

She should be really insulted, but the truth was, he was right. She’d only ever dated guys like that.

“And you like girls who bake apple pie from scratch and want a house, kids, and a homey life.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” He raised a brow but didn’t seem overly upset by her words.

“No, it’s not a bad thing, but it’s not my thing.”

“Okay, we got that sorted, so you can relax and stop hovering over me.”

Could she stay here? Alone with a man she didn’t know. June Matilda told her he was a good man, and Meadow worked for him. Surely, she wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t?

She was so tired and just wanted to fall into that enormous chair beside his sofa. Instead, she walked away from him, down the hallway. The first door on the right was open, so she entered.

The room had a double bed and thick deep-green curtains closed against the cold. The comforter was patchwork, and Libby wondered who’d made it for him. Across the foot of the bed was a thick blanket. There was a wardrobe and a chest of drawers.

Nice, she thought, and homey. Finding her case beside the bed, she opened it and started pulling off all the clothes she wore. Taking out her toiletries, she found a bathroom next door and locked it. Not knowing when she would get another shower before leaving Lyntacky, Libby turned it on. Stepping into the warm spray, she saw a bar of soap, one thing of shampoo, and nothing else.

Her parents’ home had four bathrooms, and each was loaded with products from the women who lived there. Thinking of her sisters made her sad, so Libby washed, then shut off the water. After she’d dried and dressed, she went back to the bedroom and repacked her bag.

One night, and she’d put her case against the door. The chair in the corner would probably wedge under the door handle too.

Libby could honestly say she’d never believed her life would end up here, in a house with a stranger because she had nowhere else to go.

Chapter7

Ryder had heard Libby walk away but kept his eyes on the TV, not that he’d seen what was happening. His thoughts had been on her and cooling the anger that still flowed through his veins after finding her in her car after that confrontation with Grill.

It had been a hunch that had him driving to Bob’s garage—an accurate one, as it turned out. He’d taken one look at her car and seen the condensation on the window and known he had to get the bikers out of there. So he’d focused on Grill and the other idiot with him before dealing with Libby.

Forcing down his anger, he’d fought just like all those martial arts teachers had taught him.

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