Page 23 of Playing for Keeps
Rylan:Yeah, fantastic. And it was just this one time, right?
Del:Right.
Rylan:Goodnight.
Del:Goodnight.
At three a.m., one day after Del had taken his truck to Kent Automotive and had Rylan Kent against the back of said truck, Del knocked on her door.
She lived in a three-story apartment building on the corner of Honeycomb Drive. And after texting back and forth all day and most of the evening, she’d given him the address and invited him over. Del hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted that invitation. But he’d forced himself not to push. Rylan was great, but she wasn’t like the other women Del had slept with. He’d known that before he’d even kissed her last night. Yet, he’d still done it.
And there were no regrets.
If he had to do it all over again, he definitely would have. It had been too good not to want more. She’d been so receptive and so in tune to what he needed at that moment. Not many words, just actions. The pulse and push of great sex. Afterward, she’d been even better than any other woman that he’d ever been with, because she’d asked no questions. As he’d gone to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and fix his clothes, Rylan had dressed. When he returned to where they’d stood by his truck, she had a printed estimate of the work that needed to be done waiting for his signature. Del signed on the dotted line and she told him his truck would be ready in a few days. She offered to drive him home, but he told her he’d gotten a rental car.
Del waited while Rylan locked up the garage and walked her to her car. He stopped her from getting in, pulling her close for a hug that some part of him knew meant more than just a “hug” should. She smiled at him and then got in the car and drove off. By the time he’d arrived home, she’d sent him the first text. A very casual exchange that despite his insistence that it had been a one-time event had him falling asleep wondering when he’d be able to enjoy her again.
Those thoughts followed Del throughout the day and well into his shift at the bar. It had invaded every second of his thoughts, until his body was tense with desire and his mind was full of a dark-hued woman with rich brown eyes and soft lips.
And now, he was waiting for that woman to open the door, the same way she’d opened the one inside of him he’d thought closed for far too long.
8
“Hi,” she said with a warm smile the moment she looked up to see him.
“Hi,” Del replied and stepped into her apartment, his arms going around her waist, lips immediately finding hers.
She kissed him with the same hunger that had driven him over here tonight. It was like they couldn’t get enough of each other, as her hands moved up and down his arms and his went to grip her ass. If this was how a man was welcomed home when he was married, Del was ready to go out and buy a ring and rent the church.
But Rylan eventually pulled away. She chuckled when she looked up and probably saw the quizzical look on his face. Del wasn’t finished. Not by a longshot. She moved easily out of his loose grasp and went to close her door. Okay, he should’ve at least done that, but he couldn’t think past seeing her. She put the locks in place and then walked across the room toward the couch.
“Are you hungry?” she asked as she sat, lifting her legs to cross beneath her.
A loaded question if ever Del had heard one.
“It was pretty busy at the bar tonight so yeah, I could eat,” he admitted and resigned himself to being cordial.
She stood. “Well, I’m not much of a cook. But I make a fantastic grilled cheese. It’s pretty late for dinner and not quite breakfast food.”
He watched her walk past a small round table with two chairs in front of a window and through a doorway. His gaze traveled around to the area that served as her living and dining room. It wasn’t as big as the den in his house, but it was neatly decorated with the dark blue couch she’d just moved from and rocking chair that looked like an antique, end tables, and blue and beige area rugs. The fifty-seven-inch flat screen TV mounted on the wall across from the couch was by far the focal point of the room.
“Do you prefer American or cheddar?”
Del spun around to see her peeking her head through the doorway. For a split second he saw Rylan, the teenager, looking out of the basement door at his mother’s house, telling him and Lance they couldn’t come down while she and Camy were there.
“Del?”
He shook his head and prayed that thought would vanish with the motion. “Yeah. Ah, you choose.”
She smiled. “I love cheddar. I have a few slices of both yellow and white left, so I’ll mix them. You, have a seat and turn on the TV if you’d like.”
She was gone again and Del could hear her moving about in the kitchen. He thought about catching some news or finding one of the police procedurals he had a love/hate relationship with to watch. But he found himself walking into the kitchen instead. This space was even smaller. The tiled floors and backsplash a very modern light gray, stainless steel appliances and white cabinets. They were probably the updates that had sold her on this tiny place.
Rylan already had a skillet on the stove over a medium fire. Inside, Del could see butter already melting. Her narrow fingers spread more butter on slices of bread, placing one in the skillet and then setting the other three on a paper plate. Another paper plate held slices of cheese and she layered yellow, white and then yellow over the bread in the skillet. She topped that with another slice of bread and turned to face him.
“If you’re in the kitchen you can help,” she told him and handed him a spatula. “Flip when I tell you.”
Del shrugged and took the spatula, moving closer to the stove.
