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Authors: Shannon Stacey

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BOOK: All He Ever Desired
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“How goes it?” Josh asked, walking straight to the counter.

“It goes.”

Ryan looked around for a minute, but he didn’t feel like wading into the back room. “Hey, Dozer, do you have any flashing?”

He crossed his arms and gave Ryan a flat stare. “You can call me Mr. Dozynski, I think.”

“What?” Ryan had never heard anybody call him that. Ever. He’d been Dozer since he’d moved to Whitford and bought the hardware store in the seventies. “What did I do?”

“You molest my daughter and then come in here and think I’ll sell you flashing?”

“Whoa!” Ryan held up his hands. “Your daughter’s thirty-four years old. Nobody molested anybody.”

Dozer looked at Josh. “Is that not the word I wanted?”

Josh shook his head. Albert Dozynski had grown up speaking Polish at home and English at school and still had some trouble with the more outside-the-classroom words. “People use it joking around, but it’s not cool if you’re throwing out serious accusations.”

“What word do I want?”

Josh considered for a few seconds. “Soiled.”

“You soiled my daughter,” Dozer threw at Ryan.

He glared at his brother. “You asshole.”

“Hey, he needed a word.”

“Look, I didn’t soil Lauren, okay? I spent the night with her, yes. And I’m taking her to dinner tomorrow.”

“And you don’t come and talk to me about it, like a man?”

“Uh...no.”

Dozer looked at Josh, who shook his head slightly. “That’s more for marrying, not soiling.”

Ryan made a mental note to kick Josh’s ass later.

But Dozer wasn’t finished yet. “You seduce my daughter, and
then
you buy her dinner? And you think that respects her?”

Ryan wasn’t sure who had seduced whom, but “seduce” was a better word than “soil” any day of the week. He mentally flailed for a way to answer the question.

“I’d taken her out for a meal before,” he blurted. Meeting her at the diner and paying for her burger probably wasn’t what her father had in mind. And even though they hadn’t technically gone together, he added, “And we went to my brother’s wedding.”

Dozer narrowed his eyes. “So you’re dating my daughter?”

“Yes, sir.” He thought so, anyway.

“I suppose you want a discount.”

“No, sir. I just want to buy some flashing so I can get back to work.”

“My wife will want to meet you.”

Ryan was going to start downing a shot of something hard before coming into town. “Mrs. Dozynski has known me my whole life.”

Not that anybody saw much of her. She refused to learn to drive and preferred staying home to going out and socializing.

“True. But now you’re dating my daughter, no?”

“I’ll mention it to Lauren.”

“Good. I’ll get the flashing. How much do you need?”

Ryan told him and he disappeared into the back room. Josh managed to wait until he was out of sight before he broke into laughter.

“I knew I should have left you in the truck.”

“You should have seen your face when he accused you of molesting Lauren.”

“I just wanted flashing.”

“Fran’s good friends with Mrs. Dozynski. I hope we don’t have to tell Rose she can’t have half-and-half for her coffee because you were soiling Lauren.”

“I should have let Sean drown you the day he got you stuck in the toilet trying to give you a swirly.”

* * *

“We could have gone to the diner, you know,” Lauren said, trying not to laugh at Ryan’s expression as he read the offerings of the upscale restaurant they’d driven an hour to get to.

“The diner’s not a date. It’s just...the diner.” He flipped the menu over, saw the back was blank, then flipped back to the front. “Oh, steak tips. We’re in business.”

“So this is our first date?”

“Let’s call it our third.”

Maybe his definition of a date and hers weren’t quite the same. “How do you figure that?”

“I think lunch the day you were working at the hardware store should be our first date. That way Mitch’s wedding could be our second date. And then I spent the night.” He grinned across the table at her. “I don’t want people to think you’re easy.”

She laughed. “Funny. You’re a real funny guy.”

“Actually, that’s kind of how your dad thinks it went.”

She stopped laughing. “My dad? What are you talking about?”

“I went to the hardware store for some flashing and he wouldn’t sell me any because I’d soiled you, so I had to convince him we’d been dating before I, you know, soiled you.”

“Wait.
Soiled?

“Josh was helping him with his words.”

“Great. So you convinced him we were dating.”

“I really needed the flashing.” He winked. “Did you know Nick refers to me as your
you know, whatever
? He called me that the other day when we were working on the trails.”

“That sounds about right for Nick.” She traced a trail in the condensation on her water glass. “What word would you use?”

“Helpless sex toy,” he said without any hesitation.

“You’re shameless.”

He lifted his water glass, his gaze locked with hers. “When it comes to you, absolutely.”

The waiter appeared to take their order, breaking their eye contact, though his presence didn’t put a dent in the hot anticipation she’d been practically tingling with all day. The diner might not have fit his definition of a date place, but if they’d gone there, they’d probably be in her bed already.

They talked about a little bit of everything while they ate. The lodge and his family and Nick. Then they moved on to books and music and television shows and movies.

“Here’s something I never thought I’d say,” she said, “but I can’t believe I had sex with a man who can quote every line of
Spaceballs
.”

“It was pretty good, though, wasn’t it?”

“Spaceballs?”

“No, the sex.”

She shrugged. “A little short on quotable dialogue, but it was pretty good, yeah.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I guess I’ll have to try even harder.”

If he tried too much harder, it might kill her, but she just smiled at him while he tucked his credit card back in his wallet. It was going to be a very, very long ride home.

They were about halfway home when it hit her that he’d never given her the word he’d use to describe his place in her life. He’d used humor to deflect her and, while “helpless sex toy” wasn’t a bad thing, she would have liked a serious answer to the question. If she introduced him to somebody as her boyfriend, would he balk?

But that moment had passed. He was telling her a funny story about the time Matt had called him from a customer’s home because he needed an answer from the homeowners before he could continue working. Unfortunately, they were occupied in the bedroom and he didn’t want to interrupt them having sex, so Matt wanted the office to call and ask them and then call him back.

It didn’t really matter if he had a label, she told herself. She was just going to enjoy his company.

She was laughing so hard at a Dill story, she almost fell out of the truck when he parked in her driveway and come around to open her door.

“You’re lying,” she said when she’d caught her breath and unlocked her front door.

“Ask him tomorrow. I swear it happened.”

Lauren was a few feet inside when she realized Ryan hadn’t followed her in. He was still standing in the open doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to invite me in. Or at least kiss me good-night.”

She laughed and walked back to the door. “Really? So if I just kiss you and say good-night, you’ll just go home?”

“Well, plan B would be to kiss you good-night until you’re so crazy with lust you forget you weren’t letting me in. But plan C would be going home.”

“What’s plan A?”

He braced his hands on the doorframe and leaned forward so that he was almost close enough to kiss her without technically being
in
her house. “Plan A is a race to your bed, stripping on the way, and the first one there naked gets to be the choreographer.”

“I don’t think so.”

He almost managed to hide his disappointment. Almost. “On to plan B.”

“We can’t leave our clothes scattered all over the house again, and we have to close the bedroom door, just in case.”

“Okay.”

“But we can still race. Go!” She took off running, then called over her shoulder, “Make sure you close the door!”

She laughed when she heard him curse, but he had long legs and she lost her little bit of advantage when she fumbled with her bra hooks.

Just as she kicked off her panties, a jumble of clothes landed at her feet, her bedroom door slammed closed and Ryan launched himself—totally naked—past her, hitting her mattress so hard he bounced. “I win!”

“How the hell did you get your clothes off so fast?” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “And why didn’t you let me win?”

“I’m a Kowalski. We’re genetically incapable of taking a dive.” He rolled onto his side and propped himself on his elbow. “Standing like that makes your boobs look great, by the way.”

She walked over to the bed and lay down next to him. “Fine. Choreograph me.”

He lifted her arm by the wrist and let it go, then laughed when she let it flop bonelessly back to the mattress. “Somebody’s a sore loser. I never would have guessed that about you.”

“I think you cheated.”

“Hey, you should be proud. You came in second.”

She rolled to her side and then shoved him to his back so she could straddle him. “Didn’t anybody ever tell you it’s not nice to gloat?”

He reached up and cupped her breasts. “Yeah. Usually the people who come in second.”

She pinched his nipple and his body jerked under hers.

“Ow! Be nice.”

“Oh, did that hurt?” She leaned forward and kissed the same spot, then flicked her tongue over the sensitive nub. “Is that better?”

He moved his hands to her hips. He pulled her forward and then pushed her back so his erection glided between her legs. “A little.”

Lauren swiveled her hips and his fingertips gripped her hips tighter. When she leaned forward to brace herself on her hands, Ryan lifted his head and captured her nipple between his teeth.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

He dared, just enough to make her squirm, but not enough to hurt. She whimpered as he switched to her other breast and did it again.

Then he flopped back onto the pillow. “Shit. Condoms are in my pants, which are in a ball...somewhere. I threw them.”

“I tucked one under the pillow earlier. Just in case.”

Seconds later, he was wearing it and she lowered herself onto him. Slowly—so slowly she could hear him grind his teeth—she rocked her hips, taking him deeper and deeper.

He rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as she rode him. With her hair falling around her face, she looked down at him, keeping her gaze locked with his. There was no doubt, when he looked at her like that, that he thought she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

Ryan reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear before stroking a fingertip down the side of her face. “
Yours
. That’s the word I’d use.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant but, then again, most of her brain cells were being thoroughly distracted by the exquisite sensations going on in other parts of her body. “What do you mean?”

“If somebody wants you to pin a label on my place in your life, just tell them I’m yours. It’s that simple.”

“That simple, huh?” She ran her thumb across his lower lip and he nipped at it. “Mine?”

“Yours.” Then, in one swift movement, he rolled them so that she was on her back and he was buried deep between her thighs.

With hard, powerful thrusts he sent her over the edge and then he said her name in a low and raspy voice, his face pressed against her neck, as his orgasm racked his body. He shuddered, collapsing on top of her with a groan.

“Jesus, Lauren, you’re going to kill me.”

She chuckled and snuggled closer to him. “Have I ever told you I love the way you say my name?”

“I didn’t realize there was more than one way to say it.”

“Smart-ass.” She jabbed him lightly with her elbow. “I meant I like the way it sounds when
you
say it. It’s warm and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you have the most beautiful name I ever heard.”

“My dad learned English watching Bogey and Bacall movies. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t have a brother.”

“Yeah, a name like Humphrey Dozynski wasn’t going to help in the getting laid department.” He nuzzled her hair before rolling over to dispose of the condom. Then he pulled her up against him, one arm thrown over her to hold her close. “Although you know everybody in Whitford would have just called him Little Dozer anyway.”

“Dad would have loved that. Now I’m almost sorry I
don’t
have a brother.”

He chuckled softly, but she could already feel the muscles in his arms going slack as he started dozing off. She closed her eyes, and without even having to work at relaxing, drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Chapter Fourteen

Ryan was beat. He’d started his day with an hour-long telephone call trying to convince a homeowner she was totally in the wrong while simultaneously soothing her ruffled feathers. Then he’d spent the rest of the day laying shingles. He wasn’t in the mood to see Dean Carpenter’s truck pulling up the drive.

He dropped his hammer on the roof with a thud and made his way to the ladder.

“You want me to come down?” Josh asked.

“I’m all set.” He paused a few rungs down. “But if he starts something and it looks like he’s kicking my ass, then yeah, come down.”

Nick was picking up the ties they’d been cutting off the bundles of shingles and throwing over the side all day.

“Hey,” Ryan said. “Your dad’s here.”

“I told him I’m almost done.”

“So you knew he was coming?”

“Yeah, I called him to come get me. Mom left a message at school that she’s sick so she wanted me to come straight home from school since she couldn’t come pick me up here, but I called my dad and he said he would.”

“Your mom’s sick? What’s the matter with her?” She was fine when he’d left yesterday afternoon.

“She started getting stuffy last night and she had a sore throat this morning. Got worse, I guess. Wicked bad cold.”

“That sucks.” But nothing so bad he had to be mad she hadn’t told him. Although she could have called and asked him to drive Nick home. It bugged him she thought he wouldn’t do it. “Next time, you don’t have to call your dad. I don’t mind giving you a ride home.”

“Okay.”

“You did call your mom, right? To tell her you weren’t going straight home?”

“Yeah.”

Nick was going to be at least another ten minutes cleaning up and then he had to go inside and get his stuff. In the meantime, Dean was going to be hanging out in his driveway like the giant ex-husband elephant in the room.

Ryan walked over to where Dean was leaning against his truck, staring off into space. “Hey.”

“Just here to pick up my son.”

“He told me. I wouldn’t have minded driving him home, but he didn’t ask me. Sorry you had to drive all the way over.”

“Not a problem.”

Ryan looked at the man whose childhood was so entwined with his own that he could barely think of a memory that didn’t include Dean.

“I did a shitty thing to you,” he said, without knowing he was going to say it out loud. “I can’t honestly say I’m sorry, but I acknowledge it was shitty.”

Dean looked at him then, more resignation on his face than anger. “I loved you like a brother.”

“But I loved
her
.”

“Do you still?”

That was a really tough question, but Ryan guessed he owed Dean the most honest answer he could give. “That Lauren? No. That faded a long, long time ago. Mostly what kept me away was embarrassment, I guess. I wasn’t pining away. This Lauren? I don’t know yet. It’s really...complicated.”

“I hurt her and I lost her. And I love Jody more than I thought I could love a woman, but I still care about Lauren and she’s my son’s mother. If you end up walking away, do it straight up. Don’t screw with her head.”

With anybody else, Ryan might have gotten belligerent, because he didn’t need a lecture on how to treat a woman. But Dean had the right to say it. “I’m going to try my damndest not to.”

“Nick says you’re a good guy. He likes you.”

“The feeling’s mutual. You have a great son.”

Dean nodded, then took a deep breath. “You and I are never going to be friends.”

“I regret that, but I understand it.”

“We don’t have to be enemies, though.”

It was more than Ryan had hoped for. “No, we don’t.”

Nick walked out onto the porch at that moment, and both men turned. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and was munching on a cookie.

Rose followed him out. “Remember. You use that hand sanitizer I gave you. And wash your hands a lot. And don’t share a cup or a fork or anything with your mom.”

“I won’t,” he called over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t dig through my stuff for a painter’s mask for you to wear,” Ryan told him when he got to the minivan.

“Believe it or not, she mentioned those.”

“Oh, I believe it. See you tomorrow, kid.” He lifted a hand to Dean, then walked back to the ladder.

Josh was on his way down and they met at the bottom. “Looks like it went okay.”

Ryan nodded. “Better than I expected.”

“For the record, if there had been a fight, I’d have stepped in, but I’d have let him get one good shot in first.”

It took a few seconds for his meaning to sink in. A guy didn’t let his brother take a hit from a guy who’d been an ex-husband for eight years. “What the hell do you know about it?”

“Remember when I went through my secret-agent ninja phase?”

“Yeah. You were one seriously messed-up kid, by the way.”

“I was under your bed when you were practicing your ‘divorce my best friend and run off with me’ speech in the mirror.”

“Are you shitting me?”

Josh raised his right hand. “I shit you not.”

“And you never said anything to anyone? Not even to me?”

“A secret-agent ninja never reveals his secrets,” Josh said solemnly and headed for the barn.

“You’re a seriously messed-up adult, too,” Ryan called after him.

Josh just laughed and kept walking.

* * *

Lauren knew it was Ryan’s truck as soon as the headlights splashed across her living room window, and she pulled the blanket up over her head.

“You want me to tell him to go away?”

“No, that would be rude.”

“Not if I say please.”

She laughed, but that hurt her throat. And it was hot under the blanket, so she pulled it back down. The static did wonders for her hair.

Nick let Ryan in when he knocked, then hefted his backpack. “I have an essay due Friday. I’m going to go work on it in my room.”

Even with a fuzzy brain, Lauren appreciated the gesture. He wasn’t going away to sulk, but to give them some privacy.

She could see Ryan battling not to look amused by her appearance, but he lost. “You were fine yesterday. What the hell happened?”

“It’s always that way. Colds hit me hard and I have sensitive skin, so the red nose and puffy eye thing happens fast.”

“I can see that.” He held up a plastic tub of something. “Did you eat?”

“I’m not really hungry. Nick had some leftovers. There should be a couple more slices of homemade pizza in the fridge if you want them.”

“This is Rose’s miracle chicken soup. She told me to make sure you eat it.”

She sniffed and reached for her best friend, the tissue box. “I’m not hungry.”

“Maybe you missed the part where she told me to make sure you eat it.”

“Fine.” She pushed back the blanket and swung her legs off the couch.

“Nice outfit.”

She was wearing faded flannel sleep pants and a fleece pajama top with Christmas trees on it. And no bra. Whatever. Any man who got past the hair, eyes and red, runny nose wasn’t going to be put off by fleece and flannel. Not that she was trying to attract one.

She heard Ryan rummaging around in her kitchen and a few minutes later he brought her a bowl of soup, a spoon and a napkin, which he set on the coffee table in front of her. “Eat.”

He went back into the kitchen and a couple minutes later, she heard the microwave ding. She stared at the chicken soup, trying to work up the will to spoon it into her mouth.

Ryan sat down on the couch beside her, setting a plate with reheated pizza slices on the table. “Eat.”

She picked up the spoon and ran it through the bowl. There were bite-size chunks of chicken and some veggies and rice in a dark, rich broth. She wished she could smell it. Then she took a bite, flavor exploded in her mouth and her eyes watered a little.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you it has a little more bite than the average chicken soup.”

“What kind of spices does she use?”

“I don’t know, but it’s delicious. And keep those tissues close, because it won’t be long before your sinuses start breaking loose.”

“Oh, that’s sexy,” she muttered.

He eyed the outfit again. “Were you going for that?”

She gave a short laugh and then dug into the soup again. He was right. After the initial shock faded, it really was delicious.

“So how come you didn’t call me? I had no idea you were sick, and you know I would have given Nick a ride home.”

“I know, but you’re trying to get the roof done and I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“That’s pretty lame.”

“You can’t be mean to me right now. I’m sick.”

“Which I found out when your ex-husband showed up in my driveway.”

She winced. “I honestly didn’t think he’d call Dean. After he called me and told me he did, I was going to call and give you a heads-up, but I think I fell asleep. He seemed okay, though. Dean, I mean. He even apologized for acting like a jerk the day he brought Nick home early.”

“We talked a little. Enough.”

That was good. It made things a bit less awkward, at least. “I mostly didn’t call you because I knew you’d come running over, just because you’re that kind of guy, and I didn’t want you to see me like this. Not exactly a fun, sexy look.”

He had the nerve to chuckle at her. “It’s not as fun and sexy a look as the underwear you wore to the wedding, but it takes more than a stuffy nose to run me off. I’m that kind of guy.”

She was surprised when she looked down and her bowl was empty. “That was delicious.”

“There’s more in the tub for tomorrow night if you still feel crappy. Never have seconds, though. Whatever she puts in it will knock the hell out of the cold, but too much will eat up your stomach.”

She could already feel her stuffy nose transitioning to a runny nose, and she curled back up on the couch with her blanket and box of tissues.

When she looked at his plate, she laughed. There was nothing left but a little pile of mushrooms. “Not a fan of mushrooms, huh?”

“No, but I’m a big enough fan of pepperoni to pick the mushrooms off.”

“Oh, it’s almost time for
Survivor,
” she said, noticing the time. “I have to tell Nick. We never miss it.”

“I’ll get him.”

She watched him walk down the hall and knock on Nick’s door. “Your mom said it’s almost time for
Survivor
.”

“I’m coming!” he yelled back.

“He’s coming,” Ryan told her as he sat back down on the couch.

When he lifted her feet and set them on his lap so he could lean back, she smiled to herself and dug the remote out from under the blanket so she could put the TV on the right channel.

“Do you watch this?” Nick asked Ryan when he’d dropped into the easy chair.

“When I get a chance. I haven’t seen much of this season because I have a lot of paperwork and stuff to do for my office after I’m done working on the lodge. But I’ve seen a few.”

“Did you see the one where...”

Lauren tuned them out and blinked bleary-eyed at the television. There was less pressure in her sinuses and she wasn’t comfortable, but she wasn’t quite as miserable as she’d been. Especially with Ryan’s thumb rubbing the bottom of her foot.

She managed to stay focused on the first challenge, mostly because Ryan and Nick liked two totally opposing players and there was much shouting and trash-talking in her living room. But eventually their voices blended with the voices on the television and she started drifting in and out.

One of the times she drifted in, she found herself in Ryan’s arms as he carried her toward her bedroom. She smiled and nestled closer to his chest.

“Be still. I’m trying not to drop you or bash your head on the doorjamb.”

He got her to her bed without causing her injury, though, and waited for Nick to turn down the covers. Once he’d gotten her tucked in, he kissed her forehead. “I’ll call you tomorrow and check on you.”

“Okay.”

“’Night, hon,” Ryan said.

“Good night, Mom,” Nick echoed.

Lauren smiled and drifted back out.

* * *

Rose’s miracle chicken soup must have been exactly that, because by Wednesday she felt better enough to pick Nick up at the lodge herself. She didn’t see Ryan when she got out of the car, so she waved to the guys on the roof and to Nick, who was painting the trim on the barn’s windows and door, and went inside to say hi to Rose.

“Hi, honey,” Rose said when she went into the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”

“This is the fastest I’ve ever gotten over a cold. Thank you for sending the soup over with Ryan. Have you ever thought about canning and selling the stuff?”

“Nope. Wouldn’t be the same. I don’t give out the recipe anymore, either, because people always screw it up and then blame my recipe. When you or Nick catch a cold, you call me. I’ll get you some soup.”

From somewhere in the house, Lauren could hear Ryan. She couldn’t make out the words, but his voice was raised and he didn’t sound happy.

“I guess it’s hitting the fan down south,” Rose told her. “The poor boy’s been working on this place a month now and I think his business is starting to suffer. He’ll probably have to go back to only coming up on weekends like he was doing. And once they finish the roof, Dill and Matt won’t be coming up anymore. It’s going to feel empty around here.”

On the outside, Lauren nodded and made an appropriate “oh, that’s too bad” sound, but on the inside, she was reeling.

Logically, she’d known all along Ryan’s stay in Whitford was temporary. It was never intended to be anything but that. But it hadn’t
felt
that way. Their relationship was becoming comfortable and familiar and he’d made himself a part of her life. He hadn’t called her last night to check on her—he’d come over again and he’d brought supper and stayed to watch some television with her and Nick.

Almost like a family.

But Ryan’s life was in Massachusetts. He had a house she’d never seen. He had friends she’d never met and a business she knew nothing about. She knew he didn’t have a dog, but other than that, his life was a closed book to her.

The Ryan that was here—
her
Ryan—was just a visitor.

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