Page 38 of Rookie's Redemption
Ryder helps me into the passenger seat of his truck, and I immediately turn up the heat. "Okay, maybe you were right about the snow."
"It's not that bad," he says, but I notice he's gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual as we pull out of the driveway.
The roads are slick, and visibility is getting worse by the minute. What should be a fifteen-minute drive back to my place stretches into twenty, then twenty-five.
Ryder's focused on the road, both hands on the wheel, jaw tight with concentration.
"You sure you're okay?" I ask as he takes a particularly sharp turn.
"Fine. Just being careful."
But instead of heading toward my neighborhood downtown, he's driving up into the hills above town. The road gets narrower, winding between tall pines heavy with snow.
"Ryder? Where are we going? This isn't the way to my house."
"I know." He pulls into a driveway I can barely see through the snow and puts the truck in park. "Phew.We're here."
I peer through the windshield at what looks like an old farmhouse, dark and slightly rundown. The porch sags a little on one side, and there are shutters missing from some of the windows.
"And where exactly is 'here'?" I ask as Ryder comes around to open my door.
"Come on, I'll show you."
He takes my hand and helps me down from the truck, then starts walking up a snow-covered path toward the house. The front porch light flickers on as we approach, throwing a yellow glow across the weathered wood.
"Ryder, seriously. What are we doing here? Whose house is this?"
He stops at the front door and turns to look at me, his expression serious in the porch light. Snow catches in his hair and on his eyelashes, making him look younger somehow. More like the boy I fell in love with all those years ago.
"This is my home," he says simply.
I stare at him, then at the house, then back at him. "Your home? But you said you bought a cabin. You said it needed work, but this is..."
"A disaster?" He grins, that boyish smile that makes my heart skip. "Yeah, I know. But it'smydisaster."
"I don't understand. You areliterallya millionaire hockey player. You could own any house in Iron Ridge."
"Just…shhhh."He presses a finger to my lips. "Come inside. Let me show you."
He unlocks the front door and steps back to let me go first.
The interior is dark, but he flips a switch and an old chandelier flickers to life overhead, the light wavering with the storm outside.
"This is..." I trail off, looking around at what's clearly a work in progress. The walls are freshly painted, the hardwood floors have been refinished, and there's drop cloths covering furniture in what I assume is the living room.
"Home," Ryder finishes quietly. "Or it will be, eventually."
I turn to stare at him, something clicking into place in my brain. "The cabin you said you bought. The one that needed work. This is it, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
"But this isn't a cabin, Ryder. This is..." I gesture around us, taking in the high ceilings and the wide staircase leading to the second floor. "This is a real house. A family house."
"I know."
"So why did you buy it? Why this place?"
Instead of answering, he takes my shoulders and guides me down the hallway, his chest warm against my back. His hands are gentle but sure as he positions me in front of a large window at the far end.
